Chapter 9: Fight by Firelight

When she woke up, she found that she was the last one. The others were already making a small meal. Riley rolled over, sitting up. Her arms and back were stiff from the rough ground. She was glad that they hadn't left with out her, thinking of the declaration that Eragon had told her to leave before. She still worried that she would not be allowed to come along. She would have to work on her rash behavior. She was glad she had had the excuse of darkness and shuddered at the thought of her storming off into the dark woods alone. After stretching, Riley lithely slid over to the fire to warm her hands. Eragon held out a small bowl filled with cubed meat wordlessly to Riley. She took it gratefully, also considering this a good sign to their friendship.

She looked around the little encampment. The air was brisk with the wind. The pine needles and aged branches rattled with it. Luckily, Saphira blocked the opening of the alcove where it was the worst. In the thickening brightness everything seemed surreal to Riley.

She thought of the conversation from last night. She revealed as much as she could to Eragon about what she could remember of her home town. It was small and she had rarely left the cottage in the woods. She told him that she suspected that her mother used to deal with the elves somehow. She remembered seeing beautiful people talk with her mother. And admitted that most of her knowledge came second hand in bits and pieces from her mother and brother. Eragon had listened quietly; Brom had laid down on his bed roll, pretending to fall asleep. At the end of the dim descriptions, Riley apologized for not being able to explain more thoroughly. He had nodded grimly, still not pleased, saying how it looks like we both have mysteries to solve from our pasts.

Her eyes shifted to the movement on her right. Brom and Eragon were kneeling over the long row of leather he 'borrowed' from Gedric's. She watched from her spot by the rippling fire as Brom began to construct a saddle, his hands shifting expertly as he sliced through it. After a couple hours, strapped on Saphira, the saddle was finished.

"That looks amazing. You should be a professional saddle maker, Brom," Riley said, patting him on the back.

"Thank you, Riley. But I think I have a different profession in mind." Brom smiled, but had a look that told Riley he wouldn't reveal it. Brom turned to Eragon. "We are going to need horses."

Eragon looked surprised by the statement. "Maybe you will, but I have Saphira. The Ra'zac will have gained a huge distance if I'm on horseback. With Saphira we could have them in a few days."

Brom countered, "She can't hold all of us and we need to stay together. Even so, horses will be faster than walking." Reluctantly, Eragon gave in, the disappointment heavy on his features.

"So, I guess we leave tomorrow?" Riley asked, noticing it was too late to travel anymore that day. Eragon nodded, "We'll leave at first light." He layed down next to his dragon and closed his eyes. Riley watched as his face relaxed and his breathing slowed. Poor Eragon, she thought to herself.

Riley sat down on an over turned tree, stretching out her legs as Brom started dinner on a fire. They were half a day's length away from Therinsford and the walk to camp was uninterrupted. Earlier, at their slow pace, Brom had told Eragon and Riley more about dragon folk. She walked behind them, observing the tread marks on the path as he described the life cycle of dragons; how when in the egg, it was an infant ready to hatch when in contact with the person he/she likes. But in the wild the circumstance of nature dictated when the infant would hatch. And that they could wait years for the right moment. Riley listened silently in awe of all the knowledge Brom held about dragons: to care for them and also to fight them. He must have lived with the elves, Riley concluded, for she thought that they alone would have a library toppling with this information.

Riley washed out her bowl with snow and strapped it back on her pack. As she did, she remembered her journal. She hadn't looked in it for a few days. She took it out gingerly, always feeling that if not handled so, it would break apart, the secrets lost forever. Though, in reality, it was a very sturdy book. She started back at the beginning, to see if she could interpret more meanings out of the ancient language. She smiled as bits of the language came back to her. She remembered that when she was young, her parents often conversed in it. But after so many years, the ancient language had seeped through the cracks in her brain like sand, the grains falling into the deepest, farthest part of her mind. She sighed, tracing the curly structures with her index finger. Riley wished she could go back to her past, be the little girl her father sang to and played with. She glanced up when Brom shouted, "Defend yourself!" and Eragon stood, holding a stick carved to resemble a sword. Riley placed her book back into her bag and watched with shining eyes, hands on her knees.

Back and forth, the two whipped their sticks at each other. Eragon swinging slow at first, but finding ways to get small hits at Brom. Though that was nothing compared to Brom's smacks to Eragon's ribs, arms, legs. She had flinched, yelling, "Eragon!" when Brom was none to gentle with a slice to the head. Eragon went down and lay still. She ran to him, checking that he was still alive.

"Why'd you hit so hard? You want him brain dead?"

Brom only grunted, "He needs to learn" and handed Riley a bucket of melted snow. She huffed, knowing that he was right and dumped the water on Eragon, watching him sputter back to life. After a little arguing, they continued the battle, only this time Brom gave him help with his moves, instructing him how to hold himself to make his attacks more accurate, more efficient. Riley never took her eyes off the two, taking in Brom's insights and memorizing their stances for herself. Finally, the onslaught was over. Eragon slid down next to Saphira on his blankets. Riley felt bad, knowing he would feel terrible in the morning with multiple welts and bruises.

Before the others woke, Riley wanted to look around, see if there were any useful plants around to keep up her supply. She didn't go too far out, but found numerous greens hidden under light patches of snow and under rotting stumps. She also recognized trees that would be helpful. Even if they were frozen and wilted, the effects of healing and warding off hunger and insects was not diminished. By the time she returned to the camp, Brom was rising and Eragon lay, his discomfort apparent in sleep. Brom began breakfast and Riley sorted through her findings, wrapping them in bundles tied with black leather strings. She kept out a few stalks of bark and placed the rest in her back pack.

Riley boiled a small cup of water and dunked one of the stalks in, letting the natural oil form the bark mix. She tasted it and made a face. It needed something to displace the bitterness. She took out a few dried mint leaves and stirred. One more small taste, and she walked over to Eragon who was just getting up. Brom came over also, handing them both some porridge mush. "How do you feel?" Brom asked. Eragon grunted. Riley smiled.

"Here. This should help. It's birch tea. It would taste better if I had the leaves, but this should work just as well to relieve pain." Riley handed over the cup and slurped up her breakfast.

"Thanks," said Eragon after they finished. Already the effect was relevant. He let his muscles relax and didn't groan as much as he moved. When everything was packed and the fire patted out, the four travelers headed on the trail to Theinsford.