Chapter 4

((The only character I own is Amani, all others, including Brom (sadly) belong to CP.))

((Thanks again to for writing another review. Sorry to all that I haven't updated in awhile. I fell asleep the night before and yesterday was spent at Busch Gardens. I promise to update more often; however, I'm going to do the meanest thing I believe a writer can do on here. I'm going to write a cliff hanger, and refuse to write more until I get 5 reviews. It doesn't matter which chapter you review, just that I go from 2 reviews to 7. Until then, I leave all you unspoken writers with a cliffy. :P ))

Brom crept carefully down the alleys once again, this time, looking for the spot where he had run into Eragon. He lay each foot slowly down on the ground, stepping heel first, and easing onto his toes. If the Ra'zac were still around, even the slightest noises could alert them. He held one arm to his side, holding in place his scabbard and the water skin that was always tide to it. His other hand, the right one, held the red sword, Zar'roc. His fingers about it were careless, and light to the touch, but the joints were rigid, as if he felt utter loathing at the thought of even touching to sword.

Finally, he was there, back where he had seen the young Rider. Crouching, he crept down the other alley, the one that could only bee seen from where Eragon had been, and looked for footprints in the moonlight. This would have been much easier with Amani, he thought, but then felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of her. Shoving it away, he turned back to the task at hand, throwing into it, his total concentration.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but which was only probably five minutes, Brom located the footprints left by the Ra'zac. They were light, and did not sink into the ground as much as he would have hoped, but there they were all the same. Pulling a stick from the ground, he muttered "Brisingr!" and blinked sleepily as the tip of the stick lit up with a dark sapphire flame. His magic was not what it once was when his darling Saphira had been around. Setting off, he stayed low to the ground, and followed the tracks out of Carvahall and out towards Eragon's farm. He waved the fire on the stick out and threw it to the ground. It would do no good to give the Ra'zac a signal before he was there.

He continued to follow the tracks, but he kept to large piles of brush and grass, so as not to be seen just yet. The physical activity of it did tire him, just as using magic did, but he found the idea of being on an adventure again to be somewhat invigorating. In his mind, he rehearsed the things left he needed to do.

He would go to the Ra'zac's camp and see what he could find. Anything there that might give away something, and if that turned up no results, he would wait and surprise them when they returned. Still, what bothered him the most was how they knew Eragon was here? He himself, until only a few hours ago hadn't even known Eragon was, in fact, a Rider. Oh he had guessed, sure, but there had never been any proof until he had seen the gedwëy ignasia plainly on the boys hand. From Eragon's reaction though, he was sure that no one else had yet seen the mark. This meant something else had sent the Ra'zac here for some reason, and in passing they had heard of the mysterious "stone". Brom himself had heard told of it from Merlin, another trader, which between that and Eragon's questions, well, it wasn't too hard to figure out.

Of course, there was always the possibility that they had been looking for a Rider, or Eragon before they came here, but that made no sense either, unless another egg had been stolen from Ura'baen, which was highly unlikely. The Varden would have let him know by then, especially if they suspected it was in his area. Brom paused when he reached the edge of a forest. They were off the beaten path a little ways, but Brom could still see the delicate light of a fire through the dense brush and scattered trees. He moved in slightly, so he say crouched in a bush, and waited for the moon to disappear behind a cloud.

Brom sat on Saphira's back, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair and on his face. He listened to the measured wing beats and felt himself relaxing even more. In a few minutes he would be asleep. He blinked groggily, but refused to put his head down.

Go ahead and sleep little one. Saphira told him gently. I will not let you fall. Brom shook his head, though whether to say no to Saphira's offer or to wake himself up she didn't know. Maybe he just wanted to be left alone. The dark blue dragon turned back to her task at hand, getting her rider and herself safely back to Tronjheim. However, she was wrong. Brom did want to speak.

Saphira?

Yes little one?

I don't...hmmm...I need your help.

Yes? A hint of amusement flickered through their connection and Brom frowned.

With Amani. There, it was out. He sighed, relaxing. Speaking of his relationship with Saphira was about as strange as discussing sex with his mother would have been. However, sex was not the topic he really wanted to breach just yet.

I need to know who did that to her, but she wont tell me. Saphira shook her head, off balancing Brom, and causing him to lunge forward and grip a spike on her neck.

I will not force her to talk to me little one just because she speaks with me as much as you do.

That's not what I...just, if she says something, do you think you could ask?

Why don't you ask?

Because I—well, I have, but she just clams up.

Maybe she doesn't want you to know. Saphira closed off the conversation, obviously not happy with how things were going. Brom did not speak with her the rest of the flight.

Brom inched forward, one slow, painful step at a time. He was almost there, but he was not yet close enough to tell if the Ra'zac were there. If so, it would mean several long hours kept hiding in the dirt, waiting for them to leave. His already dirty hands pushed small plants out of his way. He had to move slowly. There was no why that an old man skulking on the forest would ever be mistaken as an animal. Not by the Ra'zac anyway.

Finally, he was close enough to see their fire in earnest. The Ra'zac were not there. He waited, listening, until a count of sixty. There were no strange sounds in the forest, so he crept into their camp. They didn't have much, one tent, the fire of course, and a single horse laden with saddle bags. Not wanting to waste a moment, Brom approached the horse. The animal flattened its ears as Brom stepped forward, and snorted dangerously, but Brom ignored its bluff and spoke to its mind in the ancient language. The horse still looked wary, but it allowed Brom to approach.

Brom searched the saddle bags, but found little of interest. A map, two short swords, and of course, a bottle of seithr oil. There were a few more odds and ends, something that looked remotely like food, but nothing else. Annoyed with finding nothing of interest, Brom left the camp and its warm, but uncomforting fire, and waited at the foot of a tree for the Ra'zac to arrive. When they did he would finally get the last of his revenge.

Saphira touched down in the dragon hold and Brom jumped off in one flowing movement. He spun on his heels, avoiding Saphira's gaze and took off her saddle. Setting it down angrily on a post, he left her to her criticism and food and went off in search of a meal himself.

Brom found he was angry, though not entirely sure why. He knew Saphira was right in what she said, that he himself should ask Amani again instead of enlisting the dragon, but he was still angry. He knew Amani would tell Saphira, and her unwillingness to help him just fed the helpless feelings that invaded his mind.

His anger surged through him, feeding his energy like the wind would a fire. He kicked every stone on the way down to his spare room. He would not sleep with Saphira tonight. He tried the doorknob to his room, but it was stuck and wouldn't open. Furious now, he raised his palm and yelled at the door.

"Jierda!" His palm glowed and the door exploded, shattering inward, wood chips flying all over his room.

Brom! He ignored Saphira's reprimanding tone and blocked her from his mind. Stomping across the room he raised his hand again and muttering a few more words, watched as the wood chips flew off his bed. Once they were off, he flung himself on the bed and lay there, back to the doorway, a few silvery tears sliding down his face.

He awoke a few hours later, feeling stupid for his fit earlier. He called for Saphira, but she didn't answer. Most likely, she was sleeping, or out hunting again. He moved to roll over, but felt something behind him on the bed. Instinctively he froze, every muscle in his body tensed and ready for a fight. A soft hand brushed through his hair and he turned his head. They eyes he looked up into were soft and golden. It was Amani. She was sitting next to him and, to Brom's dismay; it looked as if she had been crying. He pushed himself up on the bed and sat up next to her. She smiled at him.

"Saphira asked me to come. She said you might need some help, but when I got here, you were already asleep." Brom smiled back at her and placed a hand on the side of her face. Most of her bruises were gone. There were only a few left, and they had faded enough that they were impossible to see except in full sunlight. He sighed.

"I just feel, helpless I guess. Something terrible happened to you, and there's nothing I can do about it. It—bothers me." His voice weakened and trailed off. Her eyes met his and he couldn't help but feel emboldened. He leaned forward, no longer feeling entirely in control, or entirely sane, and kissed Amani. It was a gentle kiss, and timid, catching her completely off guard. As suddenly as he had moved though, he pulled back as though ashamed, and waited for harsh words, or a slap. Instead, what happened next nearly cut him to the core.

He looked at Amani's face, fearing rejection. Instead, he saw tears; she was crying. He moved instinctively towards her, and she turned her head, muttering three words so softly that he almost didn't hear.

"It was Morzan."

Brom froze, listening carefully. He had just heard movement on the other side of the clearing. The Ra'zac were coming back! It was perfect, just as he had planned. He could kill the Ra'zac now, and if that failed, at least the fight with him might distract them from Eragon long enough for him to get somewhere safe. He readied for an attack.

Just then, the Ra'zac came up behind him, swords brandished, hissing wildly. Brom turned, but tripped over a tree root. Still, he was back up and fighting, will all of his skill. The sweat poured off him, and his arms eventually began to shake. His thoughts flickered off the battle and to Saphira, and Amani. He began to struggle to hold his own against the two of them. Suddenly, one of them stepped back quickly, and just as he lunged, something hard came crashing down on his head. Brom fell to the ground, tasting dirt and blood, and then everything went dark.

((Well, kind of a cliffy. If you read the book, then I guess you already know what happens, though I could always add some extra stuff in there. :P And yes, finally, a longer chapter. I've been working on this stupid thing for the better part of 2 hours, so I hope you all like it. Honestly though, no more until I get at least 5 reviews.))