I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
5/30/23 - Previously mulitple chapters that have been edited and combined.
Please let me know your thoughts throughout the story, I'd love to hear from you :)
Enjoy,
The Summit Stone
When they set up camp, for the second time that night, it far from Cellwair near the banks of Ramr River. That night they lit no fire and kept watch but nothing moved in the night, and no trouble came. When the dawning sun lifted itself over the hill, christening the world in a blushing bars of golden light, they roused theirselves and turned their faces north.
It was by Rose's reckoning that they would arrive in Gilead within six days, perhaps sooner if Eragon had not insisted on landing near larger towns and exploring their prisons for the woman who starred in his dreams. When he did this searching of his, he was often dressed in some elaborate disguise, each made him look more ridiculous than the last; in guise of a young cobbler looking for work, a farmhand traveling north, or more often an old man traveling through the region looking for his grown children. Upon seeing Eragon with a long craggily beard he had created out of a sheep's wool, Rose couldn't help but think that he looked very much like Brom, who was likely his inspiration, and it was at these times she would wonder if they would see a notice of the old man in the next town, though none were ever seen.
While her brother was away, Rose would often debate their best options with Thorn. She knew that she would soon have to find a contact of the Varden's, one of the few Selena had told her of, and to her surprise heard of a new one that Saphira knew about in the northern reaches of the Empire. Though Rose hadn't spoken to the blue dragon herself, conversations were often held with the interpretation of Thorn. This allowed Rose to learn that Saphira was slowly talking Eragon into seeing a spy in the north, and eventually into going south to the Varden with or without this woman he was seeking, and had been doing so since their departure.
He still wishes to find this woman of his, Thorn told her, but he is beginning to see the foolishness in doing so. Saphira believes that it shall not be long until we turn again to the south.
Rose nodded and turned her bow over in her hands. She had found that she had packed it, along with her arrows, that night they had left, and had taken to practice using them when Eragon was away. How long does she think that will be? she asked. We are wandering deeper and deeper into the King's land and I don't fancy it. The sooner we get out of this region the better. Things are getting too dangerous for chances. We're coming up on Gil'ead and I don't know what we'll find there, if there is anything to find at all.
Thorn said nothing, thumping his tail against the ground instead.
She glanced at him dispassionately, and then bit her lip. Do you think it would help any if I spoke with him?
No. Thorn snorted. Give it time. Wait and be patient.
With a huff, Rose turned back to her practice. Pulling back an arrow, she took a deep breath and letting it fly. It flew past the tree she had been using as a target and into the trunk of another. She dropped the bow to her side and turned to Thorn, her lips pursed. I will talk to him once we get outside of Gil'ead, she decided. There is where my patience ends.
They traveled for four more days without incident before they reached Gil'ead. Having seen the thick walls of the city in the fading daylight, the dragons swooped alongside each other to the side of a hill a good distance from the city itself. From here the only thing that could be seen of the massive city were the pinpoints of lights where the guard towers loomed along the city's outer wall. Eragon and Rose stayed where they were, neither daring to move from the dragons' backs, watching as guards milled in and out of the towers, a glowing lantern in hand, to survey the night from the path atop the walls.
"We won't be able to go into the city until morning," Eragon said. "Saphira says that the gate is shut."
Rose nodded regretfully, thinking of the night they would surely spend out in the open. She wished they could simply find an inn. "It's dangerous to tally here for long," she said as she slid off of Thorn's back. "We should relocate and return come morning. Should we stay here there's a chance that someone might discover our whereabouts."
Walking to the crest of the hill, she looked at the soldier's lights trying to see what lay beyond them. Despite being a major staging point for the Imperial Army, Rose knew that Gil'ead was also a fishing and trapping center. There many hunters would replenish supplies and sell their pelts and meat before returning to the wilds beyond. Where there where hunters, there was an in-go and out-go of people, and surely somewhere within the maze of barracks there was also an inn or tavern. Someplace where people could gather and exchange tales and rest after a long travel. This, however, also meant that a trader could come across them in the night, on their way to the city.
"And go where?" Eragon said briskly. "There's not much cover anywhere around here, and with this hill at least we'll be able to see them before they see us."
Rose frowned and adjusted her cloak. "I suppose," she muttered. "If we stay tonight though, we cannot risk a fire. Those soldiers would surely see and send someone to investigate its cause."
"It's cold," Eragon stated, "but you have a point."
She sighed, not looking forward to a night out in the chilled night. "We'll just have to endure the cold unless we move farther away. If we do, we could return in the morning, and head into the city then."
"You're coming in with me?" Eragon asked, surprise coloring his voice.
Rose had remained outside of all the towns they had previously visited, not wanting to risk going in herself. She had reasoned that if Eragon went in and was captured, at least then she was free to go in after him- perhaps it was not the truth but she found that it worked for her. Gil'ead however, was different than those towns and villages which were insignificant compared to what stood in the distance.
"Of course," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure you should be going into Gil'ead at all, nevertheless, alone. I believe that it's a little too convent for your dreams to have led you here, out of all the places in the Empire. Those are not just homes down there, Eragon, a majority of those buildings are barracks. What we're looking at one of the biggest staging points of the Imperial Army. If there is any place for something to go wrong for us it would be here." She paused for a moment and glanced at Saphira. "After tomorrow, I believe that it's time for us to return south and continue our way to the Varden. There's someone within the city who can help us do that and I intend to speak with him. That is why I'm going."
Eragon was silent for a time. It was likely that he was speaking with Saphira; he had taken to looking at her. "We'll go see Dormnad, then," Eragon agreed, surprising Rose. She had expected him to put up more resentence. Slowly she turned away and began to unpack the bags attached to Thorn, deciding that she wasn't going to push her luck with Eragon.
A sudden thought crossed her mind, causing her to start and turn to Eragon with narrowed eyes. She wanted to insure that he was not planning to do something foolish. "What of your dream woman?" she asked. "After all this fuss you've made over her, you cannot simply be thinking of leaving her behind."
Eragon took a quick breath and stilled, looking defeated. "It's probably a trick like you said," he said after a time. "I'm going to ask about her when we go to speak to Dormnad. He might know something we do not. He has been in the city, and might have heard something. Plus I haven't had any dreams since we left and I don't think they'll return, and if they do maybe I can find a way to protect myself from them."
"Perhaps," Rose allowed, her tone suspicious. "Just be careful with what you ask."
Eragon nodded, and they fell into silence. The night critters began to chatter, their voices overtaking quiet of the night. For a time the two of them ate their evening meal while listening to the night's chorus in silence, but the food was unsatisfactory and Rose wished for a proper supper. Glancing toward Gil'ead, she watched the small traveling pinpoints of light, traveling this way and that, their holders' hands lost in the darkness. Tiny glowing phantoms floating high in the dim.
That night they kept watch in shifts, all of them tensely paying close attention to the sounds and lights in the distance. Unremarkably little happened in the night, but come dawn both Rose and Eragon were sporting darken half-circles beneath their eyes. They broke their fast, taking their time to eat what they could, went through their bags before setting them neatly by the saddles should they need to make a quick departure, and after pocketing some coins, they found that they could no longer delay and, said a quick farewell to the dragons.
We will be flying nearby, said Thorn as Rose toyed with placing of her sword. She was trying to hide it within the shadow of her cloak. If you need either of us, we will come.
You best not. She frowned, and pulled her cloak closer. If you come flying into the city like a wrath from the fiery abyss things could go from bad to worse far too quickly.
We will come. He grumbled deeply from within his chest, his tail slamming against the ground.
Rose startled and turned to him in surprise. I would rather that you did not, she said firmly. We will be quick and careful, there should be no reason for the soldiers to raise an alarm and no reason for you to come. She bit her lip, and looked at her boots. They were scoffed from travel and darkly stained in places. But if it makes you feel better than do what you must. Just be careful, please, there is no telling how those men might react to seeing you.
Thorn looked at her, his eyes like glowing embers. He didn't believe that nothing bad would happen any more than she did but she had to go. She needed to talk to Dormnad herself, and she could not push aside her curiosity; she wished to see the city that Tornac had told her so much about. The one he set out to before he, Selena, and Rose had fled from Urû'baen. Perhaps there was something inside that city, a hint of some sort, one that could explain why he had become so distant in those months before his death. But it was more than that, Gil'ead was the place where Brom had killed her father. It was that reason alone made her whole being burn with interest from unanswered questions.
Rose shook herself. We'll be careful, she promised again, turning towards the general direction of the city.
Eragon came over and glanced down at her, one of his eyebrows almost hidden in the boy's cap he wore. He was messing with the false beard he had again put on, and not for the first time Rose wondered where and how he had created such a ridiculous thing. "Is Thorn alright?" he asked. "He looks a bit upset."
"He'll get over it," said Rose with a shrug. "Are you ready to go?"
"Just about," he said, pulling at the cap. His brown hair kept falling out from beneath it and the flaps kept flipping over his ears revealing the ties of the beard. Eragon appeared to her as a young player who could not seem to get his character's costume just right.
Rose help back a laugh and turned away. "Just put up your hood," she suggested.
When Eragon did so, they started towards Gil'ead. There was no trail and the area was rolling with hills and bumbles of thorny branches, the ground itself poor and slick with mud. They went slowly, their steps careful. When they were halfway there, Eragon paused and looked up into the sky. "You're sure Thorn is alright?" he said.
She did not need to look up to know that Thorn was circling high above them like a vulture did its prey. "He is fine, Eragon," she objected. "Leave what is well enough alone."
Silence overtook them once more as they battled through the reedy grass and crumbled prickly scrubs. Birds squawked their protests when they wandered too close to their nestlings. By midmorning they could see the wooden walls of the city very clearly, and since they were coming up on the side, they changed their course towards the gate in the distance.
"It's huge," Eragon commented, his mouth agape as he looked over the city from his place on the crest of a hill.
And huge it was. Gil'ead stood on the flat of a valley, tucked between the hilly northern countryside. It was perhaps twice the size of Teirm but far more than half the size of the capital, Urû'baen. In the center of the city was a large, dark stone tower, its shadow cast about the city as if the building itself were a giant sundial. Despite the single square tower, they could see no buildings that rose above the guarding walls.
They paused momentarily to study the city. Rose thought that they should have flown over the city before going into it. It wasn't yet too late to turn away and do just that. She could feel her knees shaking, and leaned slightly against a tree trunk, forcing herself to take a deep breath and then straightened herself. "Should I call you by another name while we are in there?" she asked breathlessly, trying to calm herself.
"Evan," he said glancing towards her. Rose met his gaze and bit the inside of her cheek. "I take that you are going by 'Rose' since it's not your real name to begin with. Unless you're going to try to pass yourself off as a boy."
Rose swallowed and looked at the walls again. "Try not to call me anything unless you have to," she said. "Let people make their own assumptions."
Eragon frowned but nodded. He shifted from foot to foot. "Do you want to keep going?"
"Yes. The sooner the better." She waited until he began walk and fell into step behind him.
"Did you choose Thorn's name or did he?" Eragon asked after a time.
Rose tore her eyes away from the towering wall, and looked up at the back of his head, wondering where his question had come from. "He did," she answered. "I'm willing to bet that Saphira choose hers."
Eragon looked down at her. He was a hand's span taller than she, and looked far too strange with a beard as if he had age prematurely. "She did," he said with a slight smile. "How did Thorn chose?"
"I'm not quite certain," she admitted, taking the bait he was laying out. She was thankful for the distraction and thought that perhaps Eragon knew that. Or perhaps she was giving him too much credit and he was merely curious. She looked at the ground as she continued, "I believe he choose his name long before I asked after it. I was lost in some woodland when he hatched, and at the time he was nothing more than a nuisance to me. I think that him choosing 'Thorn' was his way of reminding me about it and proving that he is, without a doubt, the biggest one in existence."
Eragon said nothing for a time, and as they neared the gates he slowed his pace. "You can turn back if you do not wish to go in," he said. "I will be perfectly fine on my own."
"Says the innocent doe before it's chased down by the yellhound," muttered Rose. "I have half a mind to do so but I won't, so, please, stop trying to tempt me."
Eragon shrugged and continued on, Rose not far behind him. As they came up the gates, she shifted the pack on her back, tightening her grip on its strap. She kept her eyes on the ground, her face overshadowed by her hood.
The two uniformed guards stopped them before they could get much farther and questioned them on their business. Rose glanced up at one of the men, rubbing her fingers on the strap of her belt when she noticed his hostile face, which only got sourer when Eragon told them that they were traders looking for work.
"Yeh won't find any here," one of the men barked. "No one's a hiring."
Eragon shrugged, seemingly untroubled by the news and said, "We can try, at least. If nothing comes we'll buy what we need and leave."
The sour faced guard grumbled something unpleasant before rolling his eyes. "It's a waste of your time, yeh old coot, but if you don't believe us-" he shrugged and waved them through. "You'll find out soon enough."
The city was what Rose had seen earlier, a dismaying muddled network of low laying, long-huts and rough patchy roads, littered with rubbish and rather unsavory creatures. The buildings were dark with very few windows, and those rare windows were high on the buildings, well out of reach, and rather grim looking. The people who walked the city were gray-faced, weapons swinging at their sides, and most of them were men or soldiers. Only once did they see a woman though she scattered quickly out of sight.
Rose and Eragon walked into the city for a ways before stopping off the side of the road and glanced around. Now that they were here they were unsure as to where they ought to go. Eragon looked around and waited for a group of leering men to pass by them.
"We got in easily," he said.
Rose nodded. "The guards wouldn't have stopped us," she said softly. "If we meant to do anyone harm they know that we would be caught. There are legions of Imperial soldiers here and so the guards have very little to worry about. I think they are there only to intimidate the commoners in this region."
Eragon nodded, his face unreadable. "We should find a pub," he told her.
Rose gave him a questioning look.
"It's the best place when you're looking for someone," he explained.
Shaking her head, she turned away. "Let's be quick about then," she said. "I don't fancy roaming these streets all day."
Eragon agreed and not long after asking a passerby where a pub was, they found the small and filthy building next to a butchery. The inside looked no more promising than the outside, if anything it looked far less so. The walls were made of the same sandy colored wood as they rest of the city, though the wood was darker from not being exposed to the sun and the walls held no decorations. An unlit fireplace sulked at the back wall, nearly covered by the shadows. Tables were pushed together and many of the chairs sat in the walkway as if they had no home at all. There was no barman at the long wooden bar and there was no more than six men in the room, all doting fondly upon their mugs.
For a short moment Eragon and Rose stood in the doorway, their eyes adjusting in the grim light until a man looked up at them, and only then did they move not wanting to appear suspicious. Rose followed Eragon to the bar table, where he sat down beside a large, muscular man with unruly hair and a thick curling scar on the back of his hand. The man looked at Eragon as he sat down. Rose leaned away from him.
"There somet'ing yeh want?" the man slurred.
Eragon hesitated for a moment. "Yeh," he said, lowering his voice. "I'mma lookin' for someone. Don' know where to go lookin' though."
The man grumbled something Rose couldn't make out, and then said, "Who're yeh looking fer? Don' look like that. Yeh wouldn't o' told of it if yeh didn't s'hink I couldn't help yeh."
"A man named Dormnad."
The grisly man nodded, as if he this was a common occurrence, and leaned back. "Yer an't got tah wait long. 'e comes here every day and be here soon 'nough," he said before going back to his drink, clearly ignoring them.
Rose tugged on Eragon's arm and pulled him away from the man to a table close to the door, where they sat for quite some time before the barman came out. Eragon ordered them something to drink and eat. When the food came, they ate in silence, neither of them daring to speak.
When the food was gone and the plates cleared away, they quietly discussed staying a bit longer, and not long after doing so, did a well-dressed man walk in. This man sat beside the man with scarred hand at the bar and ordered something, but not long later did they exchange words and he stood up and made his way over to them, and pulling up a chair, the man sat between them.
"Yer were lookin' for me?" he said.
Eragon peered at him. He appeared to be mid-way through his third decade, with a slightly creased face covered by a long, bushy beard. He had long, bushy hair as well, though it was tied back with a thong of leather. Both his beard and hair were butter yellow and streaked rather thickly with grey. "You're Dormnad?"
"Aye." The man took a long drink from his mug. "And yeh two came to shorten my hour of peace. Hope it an't nothing I did."
"It's nothing you've done," Eragon said, and then muttered something to him very softly under his breath so that only Dormnad could hear. "We need your help."
Dormnad's face changed rather quickly, turning quickly to white and then deep red, his eyes narrowing accusingly at them. "What in Seigfrida's name do you two bloody want? I told them to stop sendin' me their problems."
"You won't help us?" Eragon asked, his face paling behind his fake beard.
The man took a long draft from his mug. "We'll see," he said. "Not 'till I finish my drink. If you're lucky it'll make me forget the last two hours. You two can wait 'till then."
Rose had remained quiet until this moment, merely observing the exchange. "Sir, we may not have long."
He turned his fierce eyes to her, and studied her for a moment. "You want my help: you wait," he said, getting up and shoving his chair to towards the table before returning to his former place with his head bent. The men began to talk.
As Eragon sighed, Rose turned to him. "What did you say to him?"
"What I was told to," he said lowly. "It was supposed to get him to help us."
"If that's the case, I pray it was not an insult," said Rose leaning back in her chair. "All it did was make him upset."
"It wasn't one," Eragon complained. "He said he would help us, I think we can trust him on that."
"He said that he might help us," she corrected, closing her eyes and sighing. "Which he may, if he ever manages to separate his face from his mead."
Eragon chuckled breath-fully beside her. She could hear his chair scrap against the chair, and she opened her eyes to glance at him. He stood up. "I will be back in a moment," he promised. "I'm going to talk to some of the men and find out what I can. Stay here."
Rose narrowed her eyes before turning away. Where did he think that she would go? "Enjoy yourself," was all that she said before closing her eyes once again. She heard Eragon's footsteps retreating deeper into the pub.
Opening her eyes, she looked around the pub with misgivings. Eragon was talking to one of men in the darker parts of the room and seeing this she turned away. On the table, she noticed that there was a carving of an animal on its edge. She was not certain what it was, but she liked its lines. They were small and slightly rough. It looked almost natural. She turned in her seat to get a better look at the carving, and was just making out a symbols when she felt someone standing behind her.
"Go collect that blasted boy so we can get outta here," said a harsh voice behind her. Rose started and looked up, her hand moving to her sword. Dormnad raised an eyebrow, his scowl deepening. "Get on with it. I won't wait for long."
Frowning at him, Rose stood up and made her way over to Eragon. She tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Dormnad, who was at that moment staring at them darkly from near the doorway. Eragon said a quick farewell to the man he was speaking to, and then stood and made his way over to the door.
When they made it over to the door, Dormnad had already left and could not be seen. For a short time they glanced around for him, and after spotting the back of his head they rushed after him. Dormnad said nothing to either of them, hardly even looked in their direction, but walked ahead at an unwavering pace. Rose had to jog to keep up however Eragon did not have this problem. He walked at a swift pace, his long legs carrying him with very little effort.
Dormnad continued to push them at a hard pace until they reached what appeared to the market. Here the man weaved through the crowds and into a small, squat building off to the side. A young man stood beneath the overhanging roof bickering with a balding man. He looked up when they approached.
"You were not gone long," said the young man. "Were they out of your usual?"
Dormnad simply scowled. "Be a good lad and don't let anyone bother us," and with that said, he swept into the building. He held the door open for Rose and Eragon, slamming it behind them when they entered. Turning to them, Dormnad crossed his arm. "Now tell me what you want."
"We need to get to the south," said Eragon. "To the Var-"
"Hush you idiot!" Dormnad cried. "Don't say their name." He hurriedly peaked out the small window near the door. Rose wondered if he could see anything out of it, it was dirt covered mess.
"Alright," he said, looking at his feet. "We need to get there." And then Eragon proceeded to tell this stranger in front of them, that he was a Dragon Rider, showing the man his palm, and continued to say that he and Rose had been separated from their company a week or so before and didn't know the way there.
As Eragon talked, Rose glanced around the room, letting her eyes adjust. It appeared to be a home or at least that was her best guess. The building was made up of only one room, with two cubbies hidden by heavy drapes that served as sleeping quarters for its occupants. The drab drapes lay open to reveal two wooden framed beds covered by rough blankets, at the foot of each of the beds sat heavy wooden chests, likely filled with clothing. In the center of the room stood a table with a bench tucked beneath it appearing to have never been used. Earthen plates were stacked neatly atop the table though mugs lay disarrayed. There was no place to sit except for the beds and a bench, and Dormnad offered them neither.
When Eragon finished, Dormnad peered inside of a mug at the table and harshly set back back down with such force that Rose wondered if he might have dented the wood.
"Will you help us?" Eragon asked sounding hopeful.
"Just leave," he said waving them toward the door. "I'll take yeh to those damn rebels but I need a drink and a night's rest first. We'll meet at dawn 'bout a mile to the east there this rock on a hill, it's strange enough that you won't miss it. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see it. So off with the both of yeh."
Rose stepped to the door, expecting Eragon to follow her but found he had not. She turned around and waited for him. He did not come, turning instead to Dormnad.
"Wait," Eragon said. "Before we go, I have a question."
"You haven't bothered me enough?" Dormnad crossed his arms over his chest.
Eragon seemingly ignored the man, and matched his posture. "We've been looking for someone," he said. "Have you heard anything about a woman being held prisoner? We think she might be here."
Rose rolled her eyes and looked up at the rough ceiling. She was not going to intervene despite his choice in words- she wasn't looking for anyone. She wasn't the one who decided that it was a good it idea to look after a haunt, and as a matter of fact, she was eager to get of Gil'ead without another delay.
"How would I know?" Dormnad said grumpily, his voice slightly raised. "I'm a trader, not a gossip. I do what I'm told and try my damnedest to stay out of the Empire's notice. It an't an easy thing either. You want to know the hearsay of this city go find a gasbag."
"Bye then," Eragon said turning away angrilyand stepped to the door. He began open the door but Dormnad pulled him back by the arm.
"Look, boy, whatever reason you set out for, if it was to find this woman you're asking every soul who happens to breath about, it an't gonna happen. 'less them gods will it, yer won't find her. Ask the gods, not me," Dormnad said mildly. "You'll only get yourself killed if you don't go and change your tactic. If you are indeed a Rider, and that mark an't a fraud, there are too many people out there depending on yeh. Don't go chasing after a ghost."
Eragon's hands clenched into fists and his face burned a blazing red. Rose looked away from him and glanced at Dormnad finding that he wasn't wrong about the matter. "Thank you for your advice," she said sweetly, grabbing Eragon by the arm, and when he opened his mouth to protest, she pinched him. "We are going to make our way out of Gil'ead now, as you said we should, and meet you come morning. I hope your evening finds you well."
Pulling Eragon alongside her, she made her way to the door, and stepped out. Never before had she been so eager to leave a place. Rose turned to Eragon who was looking at her angrily. "You didn't need to pinch me!" he said sharply, rubbing his arm. "He's the bungling magpie. I don't like the idea of traveling with him."
Rose sighed, and turned toward the dimming road. The dark shadows fell over them, the sun having disappeared behind the city's walls. In the distance she could hear the evening bell tolling. "Nor do I," she agreed. "At least he agreed to help us. We shouldn't tally here for too long. I think that the gate might close soon."
Eragon nodded in eager agreement. "Then we should go," he said. "I'd like to look through the city some more but I don't think we will have the chance."
Rose shook her head sadly but said nothing.
"Dorm all done with yeh, yet?"
Rose startled and looked at the young man outside of the low-roofed shanty. He was no older than she, with bright stringy hair and dark eyes. Behind him still stood the balding man he had been arguing with when they had arrived. This man caught her eye, and for a moment she had a faint feeling that she recognized him from somewhere though she hadn't the faintest idea where that might be.
"Y-Yes," she said after a moment, breaking off contact with the man, "he is."
"Gets strange business, he does. Dorm, I means," said the young man. "Just last week-" the man behind him made an impatient sound "-Er, right, never you mind. Have eh nice evenin', yeh?"
Rose nodded, shifting uneasily from foot-to-foot. "You as well," she said automatically, and tightened her grip on Eragon's arm as he too said a polite farewell. The young assistant, glanced between them, his eyebrows drawn together, before shrugging and waving the older man forward, saying, "I'll, ah, go see if Dorm 'ill lower that price for yeh. I'll be back right quick…"
They heard no more, as they slipping into the crowd, and hurried back the way they had come. As bell rang its metallic clamor again, Eragon lengthened his strides, nearly dragging Rose behind him. When the bell stopped ringing, she hissed, "Would you mind slowing down some? I can hardly keep up with you as it is."
"If we don't hurry, we'll be stuck here for the night!" Eragon said snappishly, but slowed down so that Rose wasn't jogging to keep up.
Before long they turned onto the one of the smaller and meaner streets, which ran the narrow, dark, evil-smelling alleyways and lanes. Eragon peeked down each of these, as if he was looking something, and it wasn't long before Rose realized that he was trying to retrace the route Dormnad had taken them.
The streets were so packed with soldiers of all kinds, and men (occasionally with a woman beside him) dressed in rich clothes, drunkards spilling out of mean smelling alleys, and ragged beggars, that she could scarcely help him. It did not help, she found, that she did not possess Eragon's height- he could see above the crowd with ease.
After what seemed like an age, Eragon poked his head down an alley, and nodded to himself, before heading down it. Rose glanced around, ignoring the hawker who was shouting about his wares, and saw a broken pot she remembered passing when they came through. "Did you know that man?" Eragon asked, as they passed the hawker.
Rose looked up at him in confusion. She was not completely certain who he was talking about. "Which one?"
"The one talking to Dormnad's assistant as we left. He was looking at you. Staring openly at you, really, and wouldn't look away even after we left. It looked like he had seen a ghost." Eragon paused mid-step, looking down at her for a moment.
"Oh." Rose bit her lip, and pushed him in the back to get him to move. The hawker had taken notice of their idleness and was headed their way with an openly eager face. "I didn't notice that. It's probably nothing."
Eragon's eyes narrowed as his face hardened. He wouldn't budge. "I think it's something," he muttered lowly. "I think that you two know each other from somewhere and you're just not wanting to admit it was a mistake to come with me."
Rose met his eyes and swallowed. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said, amazed at how calm her voice was. Turning away from him, she swallowed again, fighting the urge to argue with him. It would no use for either of them to argue. Fighting didn't help anything, ever, and it certainly would not help them now. "I've met many people, Era-Evan, but I know him not, perhaps he thought it curious that a woman was walking about. We've only seen a few in this place. I'm no stranger to how some men think."
Eragon's face darken further but he said nothing for a moment. "The gates are about to close," he mumbled, almost to himself, before rushing forward at an impossible pace forcing Rose to, once again, jog to keep up.
They hardly made it to the gates in time. The wide, wooden gates had already began to close with a horrible cranking noise, and both Rose and Eragon were both forced into a sprint. Behind them they heard calls of warning, requests for them to halt, but despite this they narrowly slipped through to the other side.
The cool wind hit their face, almost bitingly, and the bushes off the path rustled. Rose huffed in the fresh air, rubbing the stitch in her side, but Eragon grinned down at her gleefully, completely unaffected from the rush. "That was close," he said cheerfully. "We should have left earlier. Have to remember that for next time."
Rose pursed her lips, before looking away. There would be no 'next time'- biting her tongue, she begun retracing their path from that morning. Eragon called after her, though she ignored, pretending not to have heard him. Seemingly catching onto her mood, Eragon walked silently ahead of her. Every so often she would catch him smiling, humored about something, and she assumed that he was talking to Saphira.
Unlike Eragon and Saphira, Rose and Thorn said nothing to each other. Rose could see him, though, flying in the distance. Their minds were still connected, however, only hardly touching each other so that it felt like a feather gliding lightly across her skin. Their silence did not change as they entered their campsite and the red dragon noisily landed behind her though she had pushed away her anger having decided there was no valid reason for it.
Eragon tried to start up a conversion but after receiving only short and rather crisp replies from Rose, he stopped and focused instead on making a small, smokeless fire. As he worked, Rose set to work on dividing out their food, they had little and hadn't want to bargain for more in Gil'ead.
Thorn? Rose said after a time.
The dragon merely looked up, and blinked at with one eye.
Unbothered by his lack of response, she continued, We found Dormnad. He has agreed to take us to the Varden, though he was not happy in the least to agree to it. I'm not certain we can trust him entirely.
You think we should keep a close eye on him while he's traveling with us, Thorn finished.
Rose nodded. He has not given me a reason to not want to watch him.
Mmm, said Thorn thoughtfully. He was insolent, you're saying.
He was, she said, rather rude, yes, but it is more than that: he did not seem to want to help in the least. Only after he saw the mark Eragon's hand did he agree yet even then he was hesitant to do so.
Or perhaps you are looking for frights when there are none. Thorn shifted loudly on the ground. Try not to over think it. If the worse does come with this two-legged then he likely will not be a problem for long.
Rose nodded. That's good to know, she said, but you cannot destroy everyone who is an enemy.
And why not? It seems to have work thus far.
Who exactly have you killed? she asked twisting around to face the dragon. As far as I know you haven't taken a life.
Thorn's thick tail gave a loud whack! as he blinked innocuously at her. I've taken many lives, he said plainly.
Pardon me, she said derisively, human lives. Weasels and deer hardly count.
Those weasels and deer were once alive, though, weren't they? Thorn huffed a puff of smoke from his nostrils as he continued to eye her meaningfully. I ended their life. I have killed them for my own needs. Their lives count.
If you are content to think such, she said, then I'll not argue.
Thorn blew smoke once more with a deep sigh, drawing Eragon's attention away from his fire building to them. For a moment he looked from Thorn to Rose and back again, before shrugging and returning his attention to building the leaning tower with the firewood.
You should probably help him, Thorn said after a time. He's doing his best but I do not believe he understands what exactly it is that he's doing.
Rose turned away and looked at the ground between her legs. I'm not much use when it comes to building fires, Thorn, she said. It actually rather a dejecting thing when I do create one.
Thorn snorted and rumbled a laugh. I was not referring the fire as far I'm concerned stay well away from helping create those. I was speaking of something else completely.
Which would be?
Thorn blinked slowly, but his tail began a new rhythm when it hit the ground giving away his humor. Help him, he said. If you do not know than you'll figure it out soon enough.
Rose, however, was not as humored as Thorn seemed to be and keep a firm glare at the ground for a time before setting the food back in the bag to help Eragon, who at first seemed stilled bothered by their conversation earlier. In the end he did accept her help, though he kept her well away from the tiny flame claiming that if she come any closer that she may put it out, and together they made up a decent, if not completely satisfying, meal. When the sun disappeared from the sky, they stamped out the fire and made their way to their bedrolls promising to have a very early start in the morning.
.
They had awoken very early that next day, long before the sun was set to rise and packed up camp and set out. Though Rose did not know how long the dragons looked for the rock in the dark, she could hardly make out the shapes, until they found the stone jutting out from the woodland below. It was as Dormnad said; they found the place he had told them to meet without any real problem or hassle.
As they settled near the rock, the world around them was still grey and dreary from nightfall, and the daylife was only just beginning to awaken. Hardly anything startled as the dragons landed in the small opening around the boulder. The large shelving rock, looking rather out of place under the green crowns of trees and underbrush tangled hills, was larger than even Saphira. As it was studied Rose found runes covered into the facing, similar to those she had seen in the Serpent's Vale, thickly coated by moss.
She ran her fingered along their edges as she studied them in the dawning light, picking slightly at the moss, and then hurried around the large stone to tell Eragon of her finding but froze upon seeing him. Eragon was looking in the direction of the city with such intensity that Rose decided not to disturb him. Rose leaned her back against the rock before shooting away from it, thinking suddenly of the insects that might be crawling along to surface.
"There's a horse coming," Eragon said after a time. He was sitting on the ground in the shadow of the rock, and now stood up and walked over to her.
Rose looked up from the ground and listened. All she could hear were the rustling of brushwood, the twitterings of birds, and the dragons' loud breathes. "I pray Dormnad does not think we shall be riding horses all the way to the south," she said with a frown.
"So do I," said Eragon. He pulled his bow off of his back and loosely strung an arrow. "Saphira hears more than one horse and I can't see a reason for Dormnad to have more than one."
Rose looked over at Thorn as he stood up, and nodded to him. The red dragon squatted down and spread his wings before taking to the sky. Watching him as he faced the west and disappeared into the clouds, Rose turned to look at Saphira waiting for her to do the same. She did not.
Eragon was muttering to Saphira, quiet enough that Rose could not hear, with fierce intensity. His head was bent towards her, and he was gesturing to the sky much to the dragon's displeasure. Rose stepped back as Saphira let out a threating growl, her wings swinging, and at last flew off into the clouds.
"She's not happy with me," Eragon said catching her gaze. "She reckons that anything unusual is a danger, this included, and she is to be right here protecting me from it."
Rose but her lip before saying, "There are times when Thorn is like that as well."
"But he left without argument," Eragon stated with a frown. "I pretty much had to force Saphira to leave."
"Thorn is scouting, not hiding. It would matter very little what I might say if the thought there was any sort of danger, he would never hide. He does however like to know what we might be dealing with."
Slowly, Eragon nodded. As he turned away Rose asked Thorn what he saw. There is very little that I can see, he told her. But there are two-leggeds and those creatures that they ride.
Do you think that they might be the Empire's men?
I can't tell, he said after a short pause. The high-green hides what I might normally be able to see. There is a number of them I can tell you that.
Rose stood and looked uneasily to the west. Do you think that you and Saphira ought to return and we leave?
Thorn said nothing. No, they're too close. They would see us and follow us. You and your brother best try to find someplace to hide. I will be there if they prove a threat.
"It's not Dormnad," Rose said softly. "Thorn says that whoever they are, they are close. We won't be able to fly away."
Eragon lowered his bow, and relaxed. "We wait then," he said.
"No," she hissed, looking around them. "We hide and do so well. Let us pray that they pass us quickly and we won't be forced to fight them."
Eragon frowned at her. "It could simply be some travelers. They could mean no harm."
"That's assuming they are not soldiers from the city. Have you forgotten that we're currently camping near an army base?"
"No," said Eragon sharply. "Of course, I haven't."
Rose continued to look around but didn't see much of a place to hide, they wouldn't be able to climb the rock; its surface was too sheer. Eragon seemed to have the same thought, and pulled her to a large cluster of undergrowth and pulled some of its thorny vines away with is bow allowing Rose to crawl the small opening before him. He followed her soon after, muttering about the fact that didn't have his sword. He had left Zar'roc in his saddlebags, and Rose did not know where Saphira was or what she was doing, not that the dragon would arrive on time.
For a long time, Rose stayed completely still, not wanting any of the bristles to poke her, and listened to Eragon's cutting down a few thick branches until at last a new sound; the sound of many horses' hooves beating against a well-worn path. Eragon put away his knife and held the thorny branches in front of him like a weapon.
She peered closer, and through the tangled branches she saw them. To her surprise they were not men, and much more unattractive than she thought a living creature had the right to be. Coming to a stop were a dozen bow-legged urgals, all of them with rough greyish skin, curling horns, and a large, flat head with a snout-like flat nose and a mouth full of very crooked, misshaped teeth. They looked around, sniffing the air, and jostled one another with their thick, coiling arms, talking to each other in low, hoarse voices. They seemed almost excited, like hounds on a hunt.
Biting her lip, Rose turned away from the brutes, none of them arrived on horseback and looked beyond them. Behind the urgals were soldiers, their ruby livery vivid in contrast to the Urgals' rough, colorless clothing. The soldiers sat upon sharp, lovely horses, looking around with discontent, some were sneering at the creatures that towered over them.
"Where're they?" one of the soldiers called, his voice carrying.
"Here," an urgal said in its horrible voice. "Somewhere."
"Yes, yes, you said that before," said the same soldier as before. "Where is somewhere, though?"
Eragon nudged her back as he leaned over her, trying to see out. Rose started and, losing her balance almost fell over, breaking a dry branch as she steadied her feet. She felt a long barb cut into her hand, and bit her lip to keep from crying out, and watched with rising horror as the Urgals, all of them, looked in their direction at the same time, in an eerie uniform fashion.
"There," said an urgal, pointing it's short, stubby finger to where they were hiding.
Rose's pulse hammered in her ears, and something tugged on her arm. She was surprised to find that it was Eragon and he was whispering frantically in her ear, "Move! Move now! They're coming. We don't have much time!" Her mind slowly registered his words, and when it finally did the urgals were creeping closer. She quick rose up and began to push Eragon out of her way, eager to get out of the death trap he had led her into.
Rose couldn't get the thought out of her that someway, somehow, someone had betrayed them. Dormnad had betrayed them. After all he was the only one who knew when and where they would at this boulder. As distracted as she was, she hardly noticed that once they got out of the brushwood, two or so urgals were inside it battling their way toward them. She was only brought out of her thoughts when Eragon barked out a sharp "Brisingr!" and set the whole thing ablaze with magic. She heard something tearing behind her but did not look back to see what it was.
"Run!" Eragon shouted, pushing her forward, his bow drawn. He was shooting arrows at the urgals, hitting only a few, as he ran behind her. "Keep going. Thorn isn't far."
Rose looked up from the ground and saw that Eragon was right; not from of them was Thorn, half hidden behind a fat bush, looking rather threatening, with his wings swooping loosely over the ground. He was ready to take the flight the moment she was on him.
Quicker, Thorn said deeply. I will fly you and Eragon away from here. Saphira will follow.
Rose whipped her head around; she had forgotten about Saphira. The dragon was flying above the grouping of urgals roaring threateningly, snapping her jaws and swiping anything that came close to her. She was reason that so few had noticed Eragon's and Rose's rush to Thorn, they were too busy dealing with her.
The Empire's soldiers were nowhere to be seen.
Rose saw that the urgals that were in the blue burning brush were shouting as they tried to fight their way through the flaming branches. Only one did, its horrible face cover in a mask of seeping burns. It limped toward them, holding a large bloodied mace threateningly above its head. Its small eyes were glaring down at Eragon as if he were the only thing that exsisted. Eragon seemed to see the urgal also, and shoot a number of arrows at it. One of the arrows cut though the urgal's leg as it turned, cutting deep into the muscle. It fell.
Rose turned away and rushed to Thorn, Eragon not far behind her. Her legs were burning when she reached Thorn and scampered onto his back, nearly falling over his other side as she did so. Eragon crawled on behind her, she could feel his arms around her shoulders
"Go!" he shouted. His grip loosened as Thorn leapt off the ground.
Saphira roared, and Thorn harshly broke off his mindtouch with Rose completely, causing her to nearly loose balance. When she righted herself, she saw that his head swinging toward the ground and his teeth snapping at air, and through the green leaves the blue of Saphira shoot into the air and dive before hovering above the treetops. Rose looked around at Eragon questioningly but found he was not there. There was nothing but air behind her.
Eragon was gone.
