Disclaimer:: Don't own Eragon.

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Their travels continued, passing through small village after small village. Alycie enjoyed the freedom of remaining undisguised while Murtagh and Eragon traded different color beards and cloaks, sometimes sporting their swords or a bow. Always they would avoid eye contact with anyone they met while Alycie smiled at all who passed her. Wanted posters began to appear with Eragon's face on it. Murtagh did not have posters, but he insisted on disguising himself anyway.

Alycie came to know her companions without inquiring about their pasts. Murtagh seemed to know every angle of the politics that controlled the country, naming the many nobles as if they were people in his own village. Alycie also noticed that Eragon had an affinity for jails. In every town they passed through, he would search through for a jail, disappear inside for a time, and then rejoin the group at the inn or pub.

Saphira, whom accompanied them outside of the cities, was another companion Alycie came to know. She quickly learned, by way of sharp reprimands from Eragon, that Saphira was as human as any one of them and, in many cases, much wiser. She soon began to address the scaly reptile directly, receiving replies relayed by Eragon.

As they drew farther and farther north, plans began to be discussed about the dark capital, Urû'baen. They rode slowly that day, drawing out the daylight as long as they could. Night found them standing still with the city in plain sight. Saphira had flown off, beginning to cover the ground in a wide arc around Urû'baen so as not to be spotted by Galbatorix or his minions.

"There are guards patrolling every road, every bridge, and every building of the capital," said Murtagh in the failing light as they rode along towards the dark, foreboding, yet magnificent city.

"So how are we going to get by without raising the alarm?" asked Eragon. Alycie watched as a man with a horse trotted down the road. He stopped at the guard, speaking for a moment. The guard allowed him passage. She nodded to herself, but suddenly became aware of the silence surrounding them. She turned to see that both of her companions were staring pointedly at her.

"What?" she asked.

"There is only one of us whose identity has remained unknown to the Empire," said Eragon.

"Yes?"

"And that person will need to speak with the guards at every post that stops us," said Murtagh. Alycie felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"And how will you two get through?" she asked. "I can't carry you in bags."

"We will act as your servants," said Eragon, remembering the auction he'd seen in Dras-Leona. "Your slaves."

"No, I don't want slaves..." said Alycie quickly. Murtagh let out a frustrated growl.

"This is how we're going to get by," he said heatedly. "We don't care how you feel about slaves! We care about getting past this hellhole and into Gil'ead! Now, can you act as a slave-owner!?"

"Yes," said Alycie quietly. Murtagh's face softened.

"Then go with the act. Do anything to be convincing. Just don't get us caught."

"Alright," said Alycie, dismounting Cadoc. She reached into a bag and pulled out her old dress. It was still ragged from her first escape, but it would do. She tugged it on over her clothes and walked to Eragon and Murtagh, who had dismounted and were pulling on their cloaks to hide their faces. Alycie shook her head.

"No, slaves don't wear cloaks," she said. "You'll have to remain in those shirts and pants only. You might want to hide your boots as well; they look too rich for a slave. Muss your hair and dirty your faces to avoid recognition if you must. You've been traveling in hard conditions. You must look like it."

The two males followed her commands, matting dirt into their hair and smudging their cheeks. Alycie grabbed two bandages and wrapped Eragon's head briefly, dirtying that as well. She stood back, surveying them with approval.

"What is our story?" she asked.

"You've done a wonderful job creating us," said Murtagh. "Now you're the Mistress. You're traveling north to visit a sick relative, and we are aiding you on your journey."

Alycie nodded, mounting Snowfire rather than Cadoc, and rode forward confidently toward the first guard. Murtagh and Eragon mounted Tornac and Cadoc, following her at a trot.

"Halt!" called the soldier as they neared him. Alycie pulled Snowfire's reins gently, tossing her shorter hair in annoyance.

"What is this about, then?" she asked him in a bored, proud voice as her companions arrived behind her.

"Galbatorix has ordered that all those passing in or through Urû'baen be questioned briefly. There are some nasty characters about, you see, Miss," replied the man.

"Carry on, then," said Alycie, waving her hand lazily for him to continue.

"First, are you passing through or into the city?"

"Through."

"Your destination?"

"Gil'ead of course! There's nothing else up in that northern region worth visiting!" exclaimed Alycie.

"And I shall need to know your names," said the guard.

"I am Nelana, of Belatona," said Alycie. "This is my steed, Diohart. These two fine animals are known as Mirriad and Kurik." She pointed back at the horses Murtagh and Eragon rode.

"And who are those companions of yours?" asked the guard.

"Hardly companions!" scoffed Alycie in haughty shock. "Traveling is such a hard road, one needs her slaves to alleviate the work load, of course!"

"I still need their names, Miss. I'm under orders," said the man.

"Oh I don't know," said Alycie, shrugging in disgust. "I believe that is Duro and that is...oh...Callet."

"What happened to him?" asked the soldier, gesturing at the bandage that wrapped Eragon's head.

"He crossed me, of course. Impertinent youth!" said Alycie proudly. "Disrespect yields harsh punishment."

"Indeed it does, Miss," said the soldier.

"Well then, am I fit to pass?" asked Alycie.

"Go on," said the guard. Murtagh galloped forward eagerly. Alycie smacked him down, causing him to fall from Tornac.

"A slave never rides before the Master unless ordered!" she screeched at him. He stared in bewilderment. "Well don't just sit there gaping like a fish! Stand up and stop being a hindrance! Remember, you are lowly and unimportant. Who would care if I killed you right here and now where you stand?"

"Yes, Nelana," said Murtagh in an undertone, mounting Tornac once more. He was smacked down once more.

"You will address me as MISTRESS! I should whip you for your impertinence! But we are late, and I grow weary. Come, if we would get through these blasted security posts before dawn to see poor ill Uncle Morrill." For the third time, Murtagh mounted his horse, riding behind Alycie until the guard was out of sight.

"Was that necessary?" he asked in amazement.

"You told me to be convincing," said Alycie tonelessly.

"Yes, but we were through," said Murtagh.

"He was still watching," said Alycie. Eragon, who had been considering her, spoke up.

"You've been in that situation before," he stated.

"Yes, but not exactly," said Alycie.

"How then?" asked Eragon. Alycie shook her head.

"Secrets, secrets, my friend. As long as you two insist on keeping your deep dark pasts to yourselves, I won't be the one babbling my life away."

"Fine," said Eragon in a slightly disappointed voice. Murtagh's face was devoid of expression.

"There's another post up that way," he said, nodding at a corner. "Same routine as before. Though I believe I won't be riding before the Mistress again."

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