Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon.

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"How long has it been since the Ra'zac fled?" asked Eragon after a while as he shoveled the soup down hungrily. Murtagh sat down, thinking.

"A few hours."

"We have to go before they return with reinforcements."

"You might be able to travel," said Murtagh. He pointed at Brom. "But he can't. You don't get up and ride away after being stabbed between the ribs. And there's the matter of what to do with that girl nobody seems to know." Eragon conversed silently with Saphira for a moment.

"Saphira can carry him, but we need a litter. Can you make one? I don't have the strength," he said to Murtagh.

"Wait here," replied the young wanderer, leaving camp momentarily. He returned with two young saplings to find Eragon packed and ready to leave, sitting upon his steed. Murtagh lashed Eragon's blanket between the two small trees, carrying Brom to it and tying him down carefully. Saphira took hold of the saplings and took off awkwardly, working to stay in the air.

"I never thought I would see a sight like that," murmured Murtagh.

"Thanks for helping us. You should leave now. Ride as far away from us as you can. You'll be in danger if the Empire finds you with us. We can't protect you, and I wouldn't see harm come to you on our account."

"A pretty speech, but where will you go? Is there a place nearby that you can rest in safety?"

"No," said Eragon truthfully.

"In that case, I think I'll accompany you until you're out of danger," said Murtagh. "I've no better place to be. Besides, if I stay with you, I might get another shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were on my own. Interesting things are bound to happen around a Rider." Eragon hesitated to answer.

"Join us if you wish," he said finally with a shrug.

"What of the girl? She won't survive long on her own," said Murtagh. Eragon looked at her.

"Well we can't take her with us," he said. "It would be dragging her into this flight from the Empire. She doesn't even have a choice in the matter."

"It's that or she dies," said Murtagh. "And I'm interested in what she's doing out here alone. She could be on the run from the Empire already without our help. Besides, if you are unable to enter large cities for fear of being recognized, it is a good idea to have one whom nobody knows." Eragon thought, looking at the unconscious girl.

"Alright," he said, "get her on the horse."

Murtagh walked to the extinguished fire, bending and lifting the small form of the girl up. She was light, as if made of silk. He set her on his gray war-horse and mounted behind her, holding the reins.

They rode away from the campsite into the dark wilderness, blinking back the tiredness that threatened to creep up on them. The moon provided fair light, but that was both a bane and a blessing for those who are being tracked.

They rode the few short hours until dawn, the silence being interrupted only two times by a small cry from the girl. Near sunrise, Saphira spoke to Eragon.

'I must stop. My wings are tired and Brom needs attention. I discovered a good place to stay, about two miles ahead of where you are.' They rode until they found her sitting by a large sandstone hill dotted with small caves of varying sizes. Saphira looked happy with her find. 'I found a cave that can't be seen from the ground. It's large enough for all of us, including the horses. Follow me.'

She climbed up the sandstone, Eragon and Murtagh following on the horses. It soon became apparent that horses were not built for rocks. Their hooves slid on the sandstone and Murtagh and Eragon had to push them up the majority of the hill. This was made even more difficult considering they had an unconscious rider on one of them who would nearly fall so often that in the end they had to tie her to the horse with Murtagh's remaining rope.

Eventually after about an hour they reached the cave. It was a very large cavern with small pockets in the walls that could prove useful if the situation would call for a hiding place or protection. In the low light, shadows lay everywhere, clouding the cave's corners from view.

Eragon attended to Brom while Murtagh unstrapped the girl from his horse, setting her in one of the pockets in the wall. He whistled as he looked around, then his eyes turned to Eragon.

"Impressive. I'll gather wood for a fire."

Eragon remained over Brom, watching him vigilantly until his stomach grumbled so loudly he gave in to his hunger and joined Murtagh by the fire. They ate in silence, then attempted to make Brom drink something, but to no avail. They did the same for the girl, but with the opposite effect. She gulped it down eagerly momentarily, then returned to her state once finished. With nothing else needed, both Eragon and Murtagh retired to their bedrolls, falling asleep.

The sun had fully risen when Murtagh was awoken by Eragon's cry as he stood over Brom's convulsing form. They held him down until he stopped moving, then he cried out hoarsely for wine.

"I can't find it!" shouted Eragon as he searched.

"Take mine," said Murtagh, handing a wineskin to him. Eragon took it, running back to Brom. Murtagh moved away, deciding it was best to grant them privacy.

As he walked to the back of the cave he heard heavy breathing. The girl was awake, and in pain. He walked over, holding her down as she nearly rolled off of the small ledge she was laid out on. Her teeth chattered despite the moderate temperatures and she looked at him with wide blue eyes.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold..." she stuttered in a voice similar to small silver bells. Murtagh removed his cloak, draping it over her.

"Shh, you're sick," he said calmly, looking at her.

"I'm in captivity, aren't I?" she asked, turning over and looking at the sandstone ceiling. "I knew it. Those guards weren't so stupid..."

"We aren't soldiers. You're delirious," Murtagh informed her.

"I'nt deliriat," mumbled the girl. She sighed, turning back to look at him. "Nah'm dead for sure...you an angel?" Murtagh laughed loudly.

"If you think I'm an angel then you must be delirious," he said to her.

"Tell Vivaria not'oo send me to Guin's anymore...he hates me," she mumbled. Murtagh felt her forehead. It was still hot.

"I'm going to get you some water, and then I want you to sleep. You have to travel later," he said, standing.

"There'rent any beams on this side'the gate..." muttered the girl. Murtagh smiled, retrieving the wineskin from next to Eragon silently. He poured some into the girl's mouth and then tossed the empty container aside, looking at her. She was rather pretty in the light.

"How do you feel now?" he asked, stroking her hair back from her face. The girl looked off into space, as if in thought.

"Huh...a horrible excuse..." she said after a moment, chuckling.

"What?" asked Murtagh.

"When I'm used, I'm useless, once offered, soon rejected. In desperation oft expressed, the intended not protected. What am I? A stupid excuse...I win, bard..."

"You're rambling," said Murtagh to the girl.

"Nuh uh," replied the girl, squinting at him. "You're rambling..."

"How so?" inquired Murtagh.

"Something about...dishes..." mumbled the girl, her eyes drifting closed.

"What is your name?"

"Mmm...can'member…is'good'un though..." said the girl, drifting off to sleep. Murtagh snorted, watching her. Then he turned and walked back over to Eragon, who was weeping over the now-dead old man, Brom.

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