Eragon had begun to like the Ra'zac; as much as a human can like two monsters from a nightmare. They were quite polite to him, and respected Saphira as an individual and not a dragon. Once, when Eragon had fallen off his horse, the Ra'zac had leapt off of his, ran back, and caught him before his feet had left the stirrups.
The plains were uniformly flat, and he didn't know how they managed to keep on course. The trail was nearly non-existent, but the Ra'zac knew exactly where they were going. Saphira walked beside them, constantly glancing at the creatures. She said that she didn't trust them, but she would follow them as long as Eragon did.
"There, on the horizon." The tall one said, pointing. There was a dark smudge on the horizon, and wisps of smoke drifted up from it. "That is the village of Yazuac. There we can get some more supplies. The Ninor River is fine for water, but we won't see any other water sources for a long while." The short one hissed.
"We once made a mistake when navigating these plains, and we nearly perished of thirst. If not for our master's constant searching for us…" He drifted off into clicking.
The smudge drew closer, until Eragon could make out the shapes of buildings. There were the loud cries of people, dogs barking at others, and children running about. The townsfolk stood, gasping and pointing at Saphira. Many of the children ran inside their homes, screaming in terror, and some were dragged away their mothers. The short Ra'zac clicked to Saphira.
"They are not used to seeing dragons, and they fear the unknown. Once our master sends you out to the towns, they will treat you as a god. All dragons are, as they always have been." Saphira nodded, watching as a boy approached her. His mother wailed from behind him, but was not willing to go any closer to snatch her son away. The boy looked up at Saphira, smiling. The Ra'zac were busy speaking to a man at a market stall, and Saphira had nothing else to do.
"Hello!" The boy said, waving his hand. "What's your name?" Saphira grinned and lowered her head to look at the boy with one eye.
My name is Saphira. She said, her teeth gleaming. The boy wasn't afraid of her teeth, and only laughed and showed his.
"I'm Thomas!" He cried. His mother was watching silently. "Why are you here?"
My rider has been called to the capital, and I must go with him. Saphira snorted. Shouldn't you go back to your mother? The boy frowned.
"Momma will just make me go to my room for talking to strangers again." He grinned at Saphira, rocking on his heels. "Are you a stranger?" Saphira gave a coughing growl, a dragon laugh.
You know my name, so am I a stranger?
"No." He said happily. His mother called to him again. "I have to go, or momma will whip me good." He ran off, his mother grabbing him and running off. Eragon saw the woman grab a few bags, leaving the town and heading south at a tremendous pace. The Ra'zac returned, slinging bags of food onto their steeds.
"Is there anything you need while we're here?" The tall one asked. Eragon thought for a moment, seeing a tavern nearby.
"I think I might need a drink." He said, realizing that he could do anything he wanted while away from Carvahall. The Ra'zac clicked together, finally leading him to the tavern.
The room was well lit and very clean. People sat about talking excitedly, laughing at jokes their companions told, and generally enjoying themselves. The barman was a plump man with laugh lines on his face, despite his young age. The double doors were just wide enough to let Saphira slip in. The tavern noise died down, all eyes on the blue dragon. The Ra'zac walked up to the spotless counter, clicking to each other. Eragon sat down, the barman completely unsurprised by Saphira. Or perhaps he was blind.
"What would you like young sir?" He asked, picking up a glass.
"Some of your best." Eragon said, smiling. The barman ducked down, bringing up a glass-full of some kind of beer Eragon had never seen before. The light-yellow liquid fizzed at the top.
"It's our own special recipe." The barman said. "And what will you have?" It took a moment for Saphira to realize he was talking to her. She blinked several times, looking at the barman in confusion. "Well? Do you want something to drink, or not?"
I don't know. I've never had anything but water from a stream! Saphira exclaimed. The barman frowned, reaching down and pouring a bottle of something into a glass.
"Well, here. Your first real drink, miss. Don't worry, it isn't fermented." Eragon took a drink, the fizzing drink ice cold in his mouth. It was not the best thing he had ever had, but it was very close. Saphira took the glass in her claws, widening one eye as if raising an eyebrow. She downed the whole glass in one gulp, shaking her head.
Whatever it is, I like it. She said, licking the inside of the glass. The barman smiled.
"It's a drink we had imported from a man in Teirm, calls it the 'root of beer'. Good stuff, keeps you awake." He glanced at Eragon. "No need to pay, rider. I'm glad to serve your kind, ever since the rider Morzan saved my father's life."
Eragon was stunned at the thought of Morzan saving a man's life. He had thought that the man was evil, but many things about the king were exaggerations, so perhaps it was as well. Eragon said goodbye to the man, following the Ra'zac out of the tavern. They had been in for far too long, and by the time they reached the outskirts of the village, they had to stop.
The Ra'zac lit a fire with a small bag of a black powder. The stuff burned so well it was explosive, and Eragon had to leap away from the logs before his trousers caught fire. The Ra'zac clicked at him, tossing him a bag of the powder.
"Let's try something, shall we?" It hissed. "When we want to frighten the enemy away, we light and thrown them. Throw some rocks about the same size and weight, and when you get good at it, try with those. They have saved our lives many times."
Eragon tossed the small black bag in his hand, feeling its weight. Searching the ground, he found a round rock that matched the bag, and with a grunt he threw it at a tree. He missed completely, and found another rock to try again. This time he hit the tree, though at the base of the trunk. He kept trying, slowly getting better at aiming the rocks. A few times he managed to hit right where he was aiming.
With some apprehension he took a stick from the fire and lit the end of the bag, throwing it with deadly accuracy at the tree. There was a flash of light and a loud bang as the tree exploded into tiny bits. The Ra'zac clicked excitedly at the sound.
"Excellent!" One said, handing him a few more. "Keep them on hand, Eragon. You never know when you might need them. We use them when we need to destroy entire buildings." Eragon pocketed the bags of powder. "The next village on the way is called Daret. There have been reports of bandits in that area, so you need to learn to use that sword. If we run into any…unfriendly visitors, we may not be able to protect you." The other Ra'zac hissed.
"We must be as far away from Yazuac as possible tomorrow, and hopefully we will escape the notice of Lord Durza's forces."
"Lord Durza?" Eragon asked. The name sounded evil to him.
"One of the other servants of our master. He is leading an army to the south in an effort to quell an uprising with sheer force." They hissed. "He will not hesitate to see that we have an 'accident' just so he may have the pleasure of seeing our race wiped out. Foul creature, he is."
Eragon shrugged, lying down on his blanket. Saphira wrapped around him, extending a wing over him.
What's wrong, Saphira? Eragon asked.
Why are we doing this? Why in Alagaesia are we going to join the king? She asked him angrily. Eragon was about to answer, but stopped and thought. Why was he?
If we don't, the Ra'zac will force us. I don't think we can fight them if they do. Saphira snorted.
The king is supposed to be an evil madman! Why would we serve him, when he would just put us in needless danger? She shifted slightly. Why don't we just slip away in the night, make it look like we were dragged away by wild beasts. We could go anywhere, do anything.
Garrow and Roran would be worried, and if we went to see them, they would just end up telling people we are alive. I think we should wait until we meet the king, and then decide? Eragon suggested. What if he isn't a madman? What if the stories about him aren't true? Saphira shifted uncomfortably before answering.
Then we would have made a terrible mistake…She sighed. Very well, Eragon, I trust your judgment on this, but we will flee when I say if the stories are true.
Agreed.
With that they fell asleep, watched over by the Ra'zac.