Stranger Danger
Much to her relief, the second week before Roran's departure was much more pleasant. The boys were now talking perfectly normally again.
Brom and Eragon were both amused by her dragon's name but had to admit it suited him. Eragon and his dragon eventually settled on the name Saphira which, for some reason, had made Brom look like he was about to burst into tears. Instead, he smiled softly and simply stated that it was a good name that suited the blue dragon.
On the night before Roran would leave, Isabella found herself perched on her brother's bed while Eragon was out with the dragons. She was 'helping' him pack which mostly consisted of making sarcastic comments on everything he wanted to take. He picked up a polished rock that Eragon had given him when they were younger and rolled it in his palm. Roran made to put it back, but she stopped him.
"Take it. I know you'll be coming back, and you don't want to pack much, but you should have something sentimental. You don't only have to take the things you absolutely need."
"I don't want to lose it," he murmured. Despite the half-hearted protest, he put the rock into his pack with a slight smile. "So, what should I take to remember you."
"You wouldn't ever forget me."
"But I'd forget Eragon?"
"Of course." They both broke into laughter. Roran sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. She leant into his side. "It's going to be so weird around here without you."
"It's going to be strange in Therinsford. A whole new world," Roran sighed.
"Are you nervous?"
"A bit, yeah."
"Good."
"Hey!" Roran nudged her in the ribs, and she grinned. Her grin faded as she tried not to think about how long it might be before she saw her brother again.
"You'll be fine. Dempton seemed nice enough," she said to distract herself. "But here." She held out a ring for him. It had been their mother's engagement ring from her first marriage. Garrow had given it to her, along with both of her parent's wedding rings for her sixteenth birthday. She knew Garrow planned to give Roran their mother's wedding ring from her marriage to him when Roran did get married, but she wanted him to have something important to both of them. His eyes widened.
"That's…"
"Yeah. You should give it to Katrina. When you're ready."
"But won't you want it?"
"No. I will use her wedding ring from her marriage to my father, but I also want something of my own." He nodded and tentatively took the ring.
"I…Thank you. Now I just have to hope she says yes."
"Of course she will," Isabella laughed. "It's Sloan you need to worry about." Roran snorted and nodded in agreement. She spent a little longer just talking to Roran. It had been far to long since she simply hung out with her brother. Eventually it grew late, and she returned to her room to sleep. It would be an early start.
Breakfast was cold, but the tea was hot. Ice inside the windows had melted with the morning fire and soaked into the wood floor, staining it with dark puddles. Isabella looked at Garrow, Eragon and Roran by the kitchen stove and reflected that this would be the last time she saw them together for many months, perhaps even longer if anyone found out about the dragons.
Roran sat in a chair, lacing his boots. His full pack rested on the floor next to him. Garrow stood beside him with his hands stuck deep into his pockets. His shirt hung loosely; his skin looked drawn. Isabella wondered if he was coming down with an illness. He hadn't been eating well recently. She worried about him. Despite the young men's cajoling, he refused to go with them. She was secretly glad Garrow wouldn't be making the twenty-mile round trip, he could do with some rest. When Eragon continued to press for a reason, he only said that it was for the best.
"Do you have everything?" Garrow asked Roran.
"Yes."
He nodded and took a small pouch from his pocket. Coins clinked as he handed it to Roran. "I've been saving this for you. It isn't much, but if you wish to buy some bauble or trinket, it will suffice." Isabella raised an eyebrow. Roran had never been one to spend money on trifles, let alone when he was saving for marriage.
"Thank you, but I won't be spending my money on trifles," said Roran.
"Do what you will; it is yours," said Garrow. "I've nothing else to give you, except a father's blessing. Take it if you wish, but it is worth little."
Roran's voice was thick with emotion. "I would be honoured to receive it."
"Then do, and go in peace," said Garrow quietly, and kissed him on the forehead. Isabella saw his hand briefly clench into a fist and then clap Roran on the shoulder.
He turned and said in a louder voice, "Do not think that I have forgotten you, Eragon, Isabella. I have words for all of you. It's time I said them, as you are entering the world. Heed them and they will serve you well." He bent his gaze sternly on them. "First, let no one rule your mind or body. Take special care that your thoughts remain unfettered. One may be a free man and yet be bound tighter than a slave. Give men your ear, but not your heart. Show respect for those in power, but don't follow them blindly. Judge with logic and reason but comment not. Consider none your superior, whatever their rank or station in life. Treat all fairly or they will seek revenge. Be careful with your money. Hold fast to your beliefs and others will listen." He continued at a slower pace, "Of the affairs of love . . . my only advice is to be honest. That's your most powerful tool to unlock a heart or gain forgiveness. That is all I have to say." He seemed slightly self-conscious of his speech. Isabella smiled.
"Thank you for your wisdom, father," she said softly. Garrow's eyes seemed rather shiny as he hoisted Roran's pack. "Now you must go. Dawn is approaching, and Dempton will be waiting."
Roran shouldered the pack and hugged Garrow. "I will return as soon as I can," he said.
"Good!" replied Garrow. "But now go and don't worry about us."
They parted reluctantly. The three of them went outside, then turned and waved. Garrow raised a bony hand, his eyes grave, and watched as they trudged to the road. After a long moment he shut the door. As the sound carried through the morning air, Roran halted.
Isabella looked back and surveyed the land. His eyes lingered on the lone buildings. They looked pitifully small and fragile. A thin finger of smoke trailing up from the house was the only proof that the snowbound farm was inhabited.
"There is our whole world," Roran observed sombrely.
Eragon shivered impatiently and grumbled, "A good one too."
"Now yours is getting a little bigger," she told him with a slight smile. He nodded, then straightened his shoulders and headed into his new future. The house disappeared from view as they descended the hill.
It was still early when they reached Carvahall but, as expected, they found the smithy doors already open. The air inside was pleasantly warm. Baldor slowly worked two large bellows attached to the side of a stone forge filled with sparkling coals. Before the forge stood a black anvil and an iron-bound barrel filled with brine. From a line of neck-high poles protruding from the walls hung rows of tools. Horst and Dempton stood next to a long table.
Dempton approached with a smile beneath his flamboyant red moustache. "Roran! I'm glad you came. There's going to be more work than I can handle with my new grindstones. A pleasure to meet you again, Isabella. Are you ready to go, Roran?" She gave him a polite smile in greeting.
Roran hefted his pack. "Yes. Do we leave soon?"
"I've a few things to take care of first, but we'll be off within the hour." Eragon shifted his feet as Dempton turned to him, tugging at the corner of his moustache. "You must be Eragon. I would offer you a job too, but Roran got the only one. Maybe in a year or two, eh?"
Eragon smiled uneasily and shook his hand, clearly unwillingly. Dempton huffed. "Good, very good." He returned his attention to Roran and started to explain how a mill worked.
"They're ready to go," interrupted Horst, gesturing at the table where several bundles rested. "You can take them whenever you want to." They shook hands.
Isabella and Eragon lingered for a bit, but Dempton's explanation about the workings of a mill bored both of them. She spent a while talking to Baldor and asking after Albriech, but he had work to be getting on with. Eventually, they bade Roran goodbye, hugged him tightly and left the smithy.
They wandered through the streets of Carvahall. Isabella debated going to speak with Gertrude about Garrow's health. As she made up her mind to do so, she spotted two tall men stood in the street. Both were dressed in long black cloaks that were lifted by sheaths poking past their legs. On their shirts were the Empire's insignia intricately wrought with silver thread. Hoods shaded their faces, and their hands were covered by gloves. Their backs were oddly humped, as though their clothes were stuffed with padding. Sloan was standing next to them, clearly nervous.
"…found anything like that round here," Sloan was saying. Both she and Eragon froze in horror. It seemed their peace was over. They were most likely inquiring about the eggs. She was doubly glad they hadn't tried to sell the eggs to Sloan now.
"Are you certain?" One of the strangers asked. The words were smooth, like oiled glass, and seemed to worm their way through the air. Underlying the speech was a strange hiss that made her scalp prickle.
The second stranger spoke. The voice was deep and moist. It conjured up images of creeping decay, mould, and other things best left untouched. "We would hate to think you had made a mistake. If that were so, it would be most . . . unpleasant." Isabella raised an eyebrow.
"We need to get out of here," she whispered urgently into Eragon's ear. He nodded, but his face was deathly pale.
"There are two hunters, they live out on the furthest farm. They hunt in that blasted forest. If anything like that was in there, they are the best people to ask," Sloan stated. Isabella swore under her breath. Eragon looked ready to kill the butcher. She put a hand on his arm and made to guide him to a side street. They had to get to Brom and find out what to do.
As they moved, one of the strangers stiffened and grunted peculiarly to his companion. They both swivelled around and sank into crouches. Isabella's breath caught. Mortal fear clenched her. Her eyes locked onto their hidden faces, and a stifling power fell over her mind, keeping her in place. Automatically, she reached out to Volund, but he was at too great a distance. Eragon was clearly in the same predicament. She struggled against it and, gritting her teeth, forced her legs to move. It was like trying to walk through a waist high bank of well-packed snow, but she managed a few steps. The strangers hissed in apparent surprise and stalked toward them with a smooth, noiseless gait. They were almost to them, despite Isabella slowly dragging Eragon backwards.
"Isabella! Eragon!" They both jerked as their names were called. The strangers froze in place and hissed once more. Brom hurried toward them from the side, head bare and staff in hand. The strangers were blocked from the old man's view. Isabella tried to warn him, but her voice wouldn't come. The strangers gave the pair of them one last look, then slipped away between the houses.
Eragon collapsed to the ground, shivering. Sweat beaded on his forehead and made his palms sticky. Isabella didn't feel much better but crouched down next to him. Brom reached them, looking concerned. He offered Eragon a hand and pulled him up with a strong arm. "You look sick; is all well?"
"No. But let us not linger here," Isabella stated firmly. Brom raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He immediately set off towards his house. Once inside, she told him about the strangers and a grave expression stole over his face.
"The Ra'zac. Galbatorix's dragon hunters. This is grave news indeed."
"What do we do?" Eragon wondered anxiously.
"You need to get back to the farm. I'll escort you myself. You will need to go and tell the dragons to hide away."
"What about Garrow?" Isabella demanded. "If they go to the farm…Sloan told them specifically to ask us about the eggs as Eragon and I are the only people to hunt in the Spine." Brom cursed.
"I will go to the farm and make sure Garrow is well. They are weaker during the day and if they do plan to attack, they won't do so until this evening. We have time." Isabella nodded, but she still felt nervous.
"Then let us go," Eragon said urgently. Brom nodded. Then he vanished into the other room before returning with two parcels.
"Here, I hope you do not have to use them, for you are not a match for the Ra'zac yet, but I'd rather you have at least some protection." He handed them a parcel each. Isabella unwrapped hers and found a wine-red sword sheath. The largest ruby she'd ever seen was set into the wooden guard. She gripped the handle and drew the blade. It was a little large to sit perfectly in her grip, it had clearly been designed for a bigger person to wield, but it was workable.
Looking over, she saw Eragon had a similar blade, but his was a blue that matched Saphira's scales.
"These are Undbitr and Za'roc." Brom pointed at each in turn as he named the blades. "They belonged to Riders of old and should serve you well." Isabella wondered how Brom came into the possession of, not one, but two Dragon Rider swords, but knew he was unlikely to answer if asked directly.
"These are priceless gifts," Eragon stated. Brom nodded. He smiled slightly.
"Now, wrap them back up so they don't draw attention and let us be off." They did as instructed and hurried back out of the house. Brom took the lead as they made their way through Carvahall. Isabella constantly glanced around, trying to spot the strangers. Eragon was doing the same as they fell on their hunting instincts.
They reached the road without incident. As she turned to glance back one last time, Isabella caught a glimpse of Roran and Dempton emerging from Horst's. She resisted the urge to run to her brother and not let him leave. It would be safer for him to go to Therinsford.
The road home had never seemed as long as it did that morning. It was past lunch by the time they arrived back. They had seen no sign of the strangers, which was a good thing. As the farm came into sight, Brom stopped them and told them to get to the dragons. Isabella reached out with her mind and felt Volund join his mind with hers immediately. She explained about the strangers. A deafening roar sounded in her mind. Bloodlust filled her. Judging by the way Eragon recoiled, Saphira had reacted similarly.
Oaths betrayed, souls killed, eggs shattered! Blood everywhere. Murderers! I come! Volund snarled.
NO! You need to stay out of sight. Brom will take care of the strangers.
One old man is no match for those vile murderers.
"Volund wants to come here. He says you won't be able to fight them alone," she told Brom quickly.
"I can't get through to Saphira," Eragon said frantically. "I told her about the strangers and now it is as if an iron wall is around her mind. She's terrified and furious."
"Volund's just furious," Isabella put in. Brom groaned.
"You need to convince them to stay away. The Ra'zac may have their mounts nearby, and the dragons are not old enough to be a match for the Lethrblakr." Isabella and Eragon sprinted for the forest, sending the image of the clearing to the dragons. The dragons were close enough they could hear their roars, not just in their minds now. The duo skidded to a halt in a nearby clearing just as the dragons landed. Both of them gouged the earth and thrashed their tails, snarling furiously.
Volund! Stop this now! She yelled in his mind. He snarled with both mind and body.
Where are they? He demanded.
You need to get out of here.
No. I will tear them apart! Isabella felt a burst of fear that her dragon would get himself killed. Clearly, there was no reasoning with him right now.
She was so busy trying to think of a way to convince him to leave that she almost missed Eragon clambering onto Saphira. As soon as he was sitting between her spikes, the blue dragon launched herself into the air, taking Eragon with her.
"ERAGON!" Isabella yelled. He screamed her name in return, but the blue dragon did not stop.
We have to go after them, she demanded of Volund. He swung his head to and from, looking from where Saphira had gone to the direction of the farm. Let us trust Brom's judgement in this. Finally, she felt a reluctant agreement from him. Heaving a sigh of relief, she made to hoist herself onto his back. In her haste, she almost forgot the saddles they had made with Brom. She ran to where they had hidden them in the dragon's old hut and retrieved both hers and Eragon's.
Her fingers were cold as she fumbled with the straps, making several mistakes in her haste, but eventually she had it secured properly. She gripped one of the spikes on Volund's back and lifted herself into the saddle. Despite the situation, she felt a fission of excitement run through her. Let us have our first flight as dragon and rider, she thought softly. This seemed to calm the black dragon slightly as he hummed, a faint pulse of pleasure coming across their bond.
He launched himself into the air with a powerful thrust of his wings. By the time they flew over the farm, Saphira was a blue speck in the distance. Isabella tried to reach out with her mind, but instantly understood what Eragon meant by feeling an iron barrier around her mind. Instead, she had to trust that Volund would be able to follow her.
In any other circumstances, she would have been thrilled to finally fly with Volund. She'd been dreaming of this for ages. But her worry for Eragon, Garrow and Brom filled her mind. Part of her agreed with Volund, she wanted to go back and fight alongside Brom. If anything happened to him or Garrow she would never forgive herself. Yet, if they did fight and Volund got hurt or killed, she would never forgive herself either. She would trust that Brom knew what he was doing. Eragon and Saphira were her priority right then.
Soon mountains surrounded them, forming tremendous white walls broken by granite cliffs. Blue glaciers sat between the summits like frozen rivers. Long valleys and ravines opened beneath them. Isabella heard the dismayed screech of birds far below as Volund soared into view. She saw a herd of woolly goats bounding from ledge to ledge on a rocky bluff. She wondered if Saphira planned to fly through the night, but as darkness approached, Volund fell into a shallow dive. After several, long moments, he landed in a clearing next to the blue dragon who was emanating fear and regret.
Isabella desperately undid the saddle straps and dived off Volund when she spotted Eragon lying on the ground. As she approached, she spotted the blood stains on the thighs of his breeches. She winced in sympathy. A bruise was blossoming on his left cheek. His face was ghostly pale and tinged green like he might be sick.
"Eragon! Are you alright?"
"My legs," he gasped. "Saphira's gone crazy." His voice was tense from pain.
"Let me see your legs," she demanded. He pulled down the breeches, crying out in pain as he did so. She grimaced as the sight. The skin had been scraped off and blood trickled down. With no proper bandages, Isabella ripped some strips from her outer tunic and bound the wounds as best she would. Eragon hissed in pain, and she worked as quickly as possible.
"Thanks," he grunted once she was done, and his breeches had been pulled back up. "We need to get back." She hauled him into a sitting position.
"We've done what Brom told us to do. He'll protect father. You've seen him fighting us, and I know he was holding back. I'm sure they will both be fine. We can go back in the morning. They don't know for sure that we've got the eggs, so hopefully they will leave father alone."
"But what if Garrow mentions that we did have the eggs?" Eragon wondered.
"Father is smarter than that. Especially if Brom has warned him. It's dark now anyway and it's a long flight back. We should get some sleep."
Volund, can you use your tail to scrape some of this snow away? Eragon and I need somewhere warm to sleep.
Sleep beside me. I shall cover you with my wing and my inner fire will keep you warm. Isabella nodded. She helped Eragon up and out of the way. Both dragons then moved to clear a space of snow. Then they rolled onto their sides, bellies exposed. Isabella sat down, resting her back against Volund. The scales were pleasantly warm on her back. Eragon sat down beside her, instead of going to Saphira. A snarl sounded from the blue dragon, but there didn't appear to be any fury behind it. Isabella glanced at Eragon, but his face was set in a grimace.
A black wing came down, creating a living tent. It immediately became warmer. It was also pitch black. The membrane of his wing might have been thin, but the black material still blocked out almost all light. A tiny sniffle came from beside her.
"Everything will be ok. Somehow," she stated, trying to assure herself as well as Eragon. She felt rather than saw him nod. Neither of them spoke any further. Instead, Isabella reached out to Volund and conversed with him, asking what he knew about the Ra'zac. He was reluctant to discuss them, only repeating that they were murderers.
She and Eragon huddled together, and slowly fell into an uneasy sleep.