"You must feel much better without that bandage," said Murtagh, from his horse.
"I do," Lorena smiled, "but it does twinge on occasion."
"You look much better." Lorena gazed up into his grey eyes before he quickly looked away.
They rode throughout the day, unable to go faster than a walk due to Eragon's injuries. And they only covered short distances. When they came across a town where they were able to get supplies. Having nothing, Lorena wasn't sure what to do, but at camp she found coins next to her saddle. Both men swore it wasn't theirs, so she promised to repay the debt to them both. With the coins she was able to buy a simple dress to replace her slave clothes, and a short sword.
The days rolled by unnoticed as their small group travelled in isolation. The three found that they shared many of the same interests; they spent hours debating the finer points of archery and hunting. Though, Eragon often would spend time speaking silently with Saphira, leaving Lorena and Murtagh to talk alone. While she enjoyed talking as a group, she also appreciated her conversations with Murtagh. He always seemed to sit closer, and she started to feel a warmth in her chest when he looked at her.
There was one subject, however, they avoided discussing: their pasts. Lorena kept the details of her family and capture into slavery a secret. Eragon did not explain how he had found Saphira, met Brom, or where he came from. Murtagh was mute as to why the Empire was chasing him.
One afternoon Lorena was practising her sword play. The short sword was heavier than she was accustomed to, she didn't have a lot of strength but focused more on speed, and therefore preferred a finesse weapon. As she practised she noticed Murtagh watching her. She swung her sword light heartedly in a figure eight motion and stared down at Murtagh. "Would you like to spar?"
"With sharpened swords? I could kill you." Murtagh smirked at her.
"Here, give me your swords," said Eragon. Lorena handed over her sword, Murtagh a bit reluctant. Eragon blocked the edges with magic. They examined his handiwork. "I can undo that once you're finished."
Murtagh stood and checked the balance of his sword. Satisfied, he said, "It will do." Lorena backed away and prepared her stance. "I don't wish to hurt you little girl."
"I will admit that I'm not the best swordswoman, but I'm not bad neither." Lorena lunged forward and brought her sword in and angled down motion, aiming for the neck. Murtagh lifted his sword and easily blocked.
"Predictable." Murtagh retaliated with a slice to the waist, which Lorena blocked. She continued with her motion and pushed his sword over and around to his left side, where she flung her sword back toward him, aiming for the shoulder. Murtagh ducked and the sword went above him. "Interesting, but not very practical."
And so it began. Every day Murtagh and Lorena would practice their swordplay, Murtagh pointing out flaws and giving direction. Lorena was becoming a better swordswoman and learning how to swing a heavier sword than she was used to, though she knew that Murtagh wasn't fighting to the best of his ability.
Whenever the group passed a town or city Eragon would insist on entering, and searching the gaols. Claiming that he was looking for someone. On the notice boards they found pictures of Eragon offering a reward for his capture.
Finally came the day that Eragon had unwrapped his side for the last time. His ribs had healed completely, leaving him with only a small scar where the Ra'zac's boots had cut his side. They watched as Eragon stretched and noticed that he was no longer in pain.
Eragon returned to the camp fire and drew Zar'roc, looking down at Murtagh. "Now that I am strong enough, would you like to spar?"
The pair faced off, Eragon settled into a crouch then swung at Murtagh's shoulder. Their swords met in midair. Eragon disengaged with a flourish, thrust, and then riposted as Murtagh parried, dancing away.
They struggled back and forth, trying to batter each other down. After a particularly intense series of blows, Murtagh started laughing. Not only was it impossible for either of them to gain an advantage, but they were so evenly matched that they tired at the same rate. Acknowledging with grins each other's skill, they fought on until their arms were leaden and sweat poured off their sides.
Finally Eragon called, "Enough, halt!" Murtagh stopped in mid-blow and sat down with a gasp. Eragon staggered to the ground, his chest heaving.
As he gulped air, Murtagh exclaimed, "You're amazing! I've studied swordplay all my life, but never have I fought one like you. You could be the king's weapon master if you wanted to."
"You're just as good," observed Eragon, still panting. "The man who taught you, Tornac, could make a fortune with a fencing school. People would come from all parts of Alagaësia to learn from him."
"He's dead," said Murtagh shortly.
"I'm sorry."
Thus it became custom for the three to fight in the evening, which kept them lean and fit. Eragon started to practice magic. Lorena and Murtagh were curious about it, while Lorena knew a bit, Murtagh soon revealed that he knew a surprising amount about how it worked, though lacked the precise details and neither of them could use it themselves. Whenever Eragon practiced speaking in the ancient language, the others would listen, occasionally asking what a word meant.
Lorena watched as Eragon stared blankly into the distance. She had come to recognise when he was conversing with Saphira, and made sure to keep an eye on Snowfire in case he wondered too far from them.
"I'm sorry to hear about Tornac," Lorena quietly called out to Murtagh.
He stiffened in his saddle.
"I don't mean to offend you," Lorena said quickly, "It just seems that you were close. If it means anything, I recently lost someone I was close too as well."
Murtagh stared ahead for a minute, then slowly turned to Lorena. "He was like a father to me."
They rode in silence for a while before he asked.
"Who did you lose?"
"My brother."
"Was it an accident?"
Lorena looked him in the eye, and sternly claimed, "No."
She felt the beginning of tears and quickly looked forward. They rode in silence until they reached the outskirts of Gil'ead.
It had taken them nearly a month to reach it, during which time spring had finally nudged away the remnants of winter. From a distance they could see the city was a rough, barbaric place, filled with log houses and yapping dogs. There was a rambling stone fortress at its centre. The air was hazy with blue smoke. The place seemed more like a temporary post than a permanent city. Five miles beyond it was the hazy outline of Isenstar Lake.
They decided to camp two miles from the city, for safety. While their dinner simmered, Murtagh said, "I'm not sure you should be the one to go into Gil'ead."
"Why? I can disguise myself well enough," said Eragon. "And Dormnad will want to see the gedwëy ignasia as proof that I really am a Rider."
"Perhaps," said Murtagh, "but the Empire wants you much more than me. If I'm captured, I could eventually escape. But if you are taken, they'll drag you to the king, where you'll be in for a slow death by torture – unless you join him. Plus, Gil'ead is one of the army's major staging points. Those aren't houses out there; they're barracks. Going in there would be like handing yourself to the king on a gilded platter."
"I agree with all Murtagh has said, except for who should go. It's too dangerous for Eragon, and Murtagh you say that the kings army wants you. No one is looking for me, there for should it not be I who goes?"
"I believe that to be wise." Eragon said reluctantly.
"No." said Murtagh forcefully. "I'll not have a woman go into a city filled with the kings soldiers. Whether you are wanted or not it'll be too dangerous for you to go alone, and it would be better to have only one person go in. I'll go."
Lorena scrunched her nose in distaste and looked at Eragon.
"All right, you can go, but if anything goes wrong, I'm coming after you." Eragon said.
Murtagh laughed. "That would be fit for a legend: how a lone Rider took on the king's army single-handedly." He chuckled again and stood. "Is there anything I should know before going?"
"Shouldn't we rest and wait until tomorrow?" asked Eragon cautiously.
"Why? The longer we stay here, the greater the chance that we'll be discovered. If this Dormnad can take you to the Varden, then he needs to be found as quickly as possible. Neither of us should remain near Gil'ead longer than a few days."
Eragon consulted silently with Saphira, then relayed to Murtagh what she wanted him to tell Dormnad.
"Very well," said Murtagh, adjusting his sword. "Unless there's trouble, I'll be back within a couple of hours. Make sure there's some food left for me." He made his way to Tornac, reaching out and brushing his hand against Lorena's shoulder as he passed, then jumped on Tornac and rode away. Eragon and Lorena sat by the fire, Eragon tapping Zar'roc's pommel apprehensively.
Hours passed, but Murtagh did not return. Eragon paced around the fire, Zar'roc in hand, while Lorena and Saphira watched Gil'ead. None of them voiced their worries. "Be ready to leave, in case a detachment of soldiers leave the city and head our way."
Saphira shifted and their attention snapped back towards Gil'ead. A distant horse-man exited the city and was riding furiously toward their camp. Eragon mounted Saphira and was gesturing toward Lorena to join him when Lorena recognised the rider to be Murtagh, bent low over Tornac. No one seemed to be pursuing him, but he did not slow his reckless pace. He galloped into the camp and jumped to the ground, drawing his sword. "What's wrong?" asked Eragon.
Murtagh scowled. "Did anyone follow me from Gil'ead?"
"We didn't see anyone."
"Good. Then let me eat before I explain. I'm starving." He seized a bowl and began eating with gusto.
"You're not hurt, are you?" asked Lorena worried.
Murtagh grinned. "No." After a few sloppy bites, he said through a full mouth, "Dormnad has agreed to meet us outside Gil'ead at sunrise tomorrow. If he's satisfied you really are a Rider and that it's not a trap, he'll take you to the Varden."
"Where are we supposed to meet him?" asked Eragon.
Murtagh pointed west. "On a small hill across the road."
"So what happened?" asked Lorena.
Murtagh spooned more food into his bowl. "It's a rather simple thing, but all the more deadly because of it: I was seen in the street by someone who knows me. I did the only thing I could and ran away. I was too late, though; he recognised me."
Lorena sighed, "I should have gone."
Murtagh shook his head, "It was a risk, but I still stand by it. It's not safe here, especially for a woman."
"Since I don't know your friend, I have to ask: Will he tell anyone?" Eragon asked.
Murtagh gave a strained laugh. "If you had met him, that wouldn't need answering. His mouth is loosely hinged and hangs open all the time, vomiting whatever happens to be in his mind. The question isn't whether he will tell people, but whom he will tell. If word of this reaches the wrong ears, we'll be in trouble."
"I doubt that soldiers will be sent to search for you in the dark," Eragon pointed out. "We can at least count on being safe until morning, and by then, if all goes well, we'll be leaving with Dormnad."
Murtagh shook his head. "No, I will not accompany him. As I said before, I won't go to the Varden."
Eragon stared at him unhappily.
"What about you?" Murtagh asked, looking to Lorena, "Who will you accompany?"
"I don't know." admitted Lorena, "I'd like to go where I'm most needed. I'll sleep on it."
They talked until the stars were bright in the sky, then slept as Saphira took the first watch.
Lorena woke, at hearing an odd noise. She sat up and looked around the camp site. She saw Eragon standing over Murtagh. "There are horses close by." whispered Eragon. Lorena and Murtagh grabbed their swords. The three quietly stationed themselves around Saphira, prepared for an attack. As they waited, the morning star rose in the east. A squirrel chattered.
Then an angry snarl caught their attention. A broad Urgal stood at the edge of the camp, carrying a mattock with a nasty spike. The Urgal roared and waved his weapon, but did not charge.
"Brisingr!" barked Eragon. The Urgal's face contorted with terror as he exploded in a flash of blue light. Blood splattered, mainly upon Eragon. A flash of steel caught Lorenas' attention, and she blocked just in time. More Urgals had snuck up on them, while they were distracted. A second attacked Murtagh as Saphira bulged with alarm and reared at the intruders.
Steel clashed as Lorena and Murtagh attacked the Urgals. Eragon tried to join them but was blocked by four of the monsters. Murtagh's blade landed almost every blow, hacking arms and slicing flesh. Lorena had more difficulty, she had never fought a beast so large before. She swung her sword across the first creatures stomach, spilling its insides before dancing away from the attack of another Urgal.
"Fly, Saphira!" they heard Eragon scream before he caught club to the head and fell unconscious.
