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When Eragon's eyes opened, the memory of Garrow's death crashed down on him. He pulled the blankets over his head and cried quietly under their warm darkness. It felt good just to lie there... to hide from the world outside. Eventually the tears stopped. He cursed Brom. Then he reluctantly wiped his cheeks and got up.
Brom was in the middle of making breakfast with Daemon watching him from his spot across the camp, but had looked up when seeing Eragon was awake and gave him a nod. "Morning Eragon." Daemon said, Brom looking up and favouring the youth with a small smile, Eragon merely grunted in reply. He jammed his cold fingers in his armpits and crouched by the fire until the food was ready. They ate quickly, trying to consume the food before it lost its warmth. When he finished, Eragon washed his bowl with snow, then spread the stolen leather on the ground.
"What are you going to do with that?" asked Brom. "We can't carry it with us."
"I'm going to make a saddle for Saphira."
Offering his assistance, Brom instructed Eragon on how to make a simple saddle. Daemon simply watched them from where he sat, a lot on his mind. When would Brom tell Eragon about what Daemon has told him so far? That he was far a from-away land, and is here to protect Eragon and Saphira? And what about what he really was? How will Daemon explain that he had the blood and soul of a dragon, and also used to kill dragons?
"Best I keep them at arms' length." Daemon uttered quietly as he watched the two work. "At least... until they can prove to be trusted with a secret like that."
The day was spent with Brom and Eragon making the saddle, while Jayden either watched or sorted his own belongings and checked on Shadow, as well as fix up some food for himself and the other two to have when they were finished.
Weary from his labor, Brom put the saddle on Saphira and checked to see that the straps fit. He made a few small adjustments, then took it off, satisfied.
"You did a good job," Eragon acknowledged grudgingly.
Brom inclined his head. "One tries his best. It should serve you well; the leather's sturdy enough."
Aren't you going to try it out? asked Saphira, inspecting her saddle.
Maybe tomorrow, said Eragon, storing the saddle with his blankets. It's too late now. In truth he was not eager to fly again—not after the disastrous outcome of his last attempt.
Once they had dinner, Daemon looked at Eragon and Brom. "You two need horses."
"What?" Eragon frowned at him.
"You need horses. I already have one of my own." The Dragonborn repeated himself calmly. "Unless you'd rather walk to wherever the Ra'zac are."
"He's right." Brom nodded then looked at Daemon. "Where is your horse?"
"Shadowmere appears when I need him most, sometimes unexpectedly. He'll show up." Daemon assured.
Brom grunted and looked at Eragon. "Since Daemon has a horse, it's only fair we get ourselves a couple."
"I have Saphira." Eragon gestured to the nearby dragoness.
Brom shook his head. "There isn't a horse alive that can outrun a flying dragon, and Saphira is too young to carry us both. Besides, it'll be safer if we stay together, and riding is faster than walking."
"But that'll make it harder to catch the Ra'zac," protested Eragon. "On Saphira, I could probably find them within a day or two. On horses, it'll take much longer—if it's even possible to overtake their lead on the ground!"
Brom said slowly, "That's a chance you'll have to take if we're to accompany you."
Eragon thought it over. "All right," he grumbled, "we'll get horses. But you have to buy them. I don't have any money, and I don't want to steal again. It's wrong."
"That depends on your point of view," corrected Brom with a slight smile. "Before you set out on this venture, remember that your enemies, the Ra'zac, are the King's servants. They will be protected wherever they go. Laws do not stop them. In cities they'll have access to abundant resources and willing servants. Also keep in mind that nothing is more important to Galbatorix than recruiting or killing you—though word of your existence probably hasn't reached him yet. The longer you evade the Ra'zac, the more desperate he'll become. He'll know that every day you'll be growing stronger and that each passing moment will give you another chance to join his enemies. You must be very careful, as you may easily turn from the hunter into the hunted."
Daemon levelled him with a blank look. "Way to be positive, old man." He remarked dryly, earning a glare from Brom while Eragon chuckled. Soon after, they retreated into their respective slumbers.
The next day dawned with and overcast sky and sharp wind. After a quick breakfast, they packed up camp and set out along the road leading away from Carvahall. Both Daemon and Brom had strapped their respective blades on, and Eragon's bow was across his back. He left Zar'roc tied to Saphira's back; he did not need the extra weight and in his hands it was no better than a club.
As they walked, Saphira flew west toward the mountains and out of sight. A pang of regret hit Eragon's chest. Even though there was no one else around, they could not spend their days together. She had to stay hidden in the event the party met up with a fellow traveler.
"So, where do we go to get horses?" Eragon asked, to take his mind off his feelings.
"Therinsford." Brom answered.
The Ra'zac's footprints were faint on the eroding snow, but Brom explained to the two younger men with him that it was unlikely that they had forsaken the road, which was the easiest way out of the valley, for the wilderness. Once outside the valley, however, the road divided in several places. It would be difficult to ascertain which branch the Ra'zac had taken.
They traveled in silence, concentrating on speed. Eragon's legs continued to bleed where the scabs had cracked. To take his mind off the discomfort, he asked Brom what he knew about dragons. Daemon was also curious as well and listened intently along with Eragin as Brom told them about the nature of dragons, from their eating habits to what to do if engaging one in a fight. Even though both interrupted to ask questions, Brom seemed all too pleased at the enquires and questions that they had on dragons. Hours passed as they talked.
When evening came, they were near Therinsford. As the sky darkened and they searched for a place to camp, Eragon asked, "Who was the Rider that owned Zar'roc?"
"A mighty warrior," said Brom, "who was much feared in his time and held great power."
"What was his name?"
"I'll not say." Eragon protested, but Brom was firm. "I don't want to keep you ignorant, far from it, but certain knowledge would only prove dangerous and distracting for you right now. There isn't any reason for me to trouble you with such things until you have the time and the power to deal with them. I only wish to protect you from those who would use you for evil."
Eragon glared at him. "You know what? I think you just enjoy speaking in riddles."
Daemon withheld a snort, smirking in amusement.
They found a comfortable place to spend the night and set up camp. Saphira joined them as dinner was being set on the fire. Did you have time to hunt for food? asked Eragon.
She snorted with amusement. If the three of you were any slower, I would have time to fly across the sea and back without falling behind.
You don't have to be insulting. Besides, we'll go faster once we have horses.
She let out a puff of smoke. Maybe, but will it be enough to catch the Ra'zac? They have a lead of several days and many leagues. And I'm afraid they may suspect we're following them. Why else would they have destroyed the farm in such a spectacular manner, unless they wished to provoke you into chasing them?
I don't know, said Eragon, disturbed. Saphira curled up beside him, and he leaned against her belly, welcoming the warmth. Brom sat on the other side of the fire, whittling two long sticks. He suddenly threw one at Eragon, who grabbed it out of reflex as it whirled over the crackling flames. Daemon looked up from what he was doing.
"Defend yourself!" barked Brom, standing. Daemon leaned forward with his arms on his propped knees, now more interested in the scene before him.
Eragon looked at the stick in his hand and saw that it was shaped in the crude likeness of a sword. Brom wanted to fight him? What chance did the old man stand? If he wants to play this game, so be it, but if he thinks to beat me, he's in for a surprise.
He rose as Brom circled the fire. They faced each other for a moment, then Brom charged, swinging his stick. Eragon tried to block the attack but was too slow. He yelped as Brom struck him on the ribs, and stumbled backward.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, but Brom easily parried the blow. Eragon whipped the stick toward Brom's head, twisted it at the last moment, and then tried to hit his side. The solid smack of wood striking wood resounded through the camp. "Improvisation—good!" exclaimed Brom, eyes gleaming. His arm moved in a blur, and there was an explosion of pain on the side of Eragon's head.
"Oh." Daemon winced at the impact as Eragon collapsed like an empty sack, dazed.
A splash of cold water roused him to alertness, and he sat up, sputtering. His head was ringing, and there was dried blood on his face. Brom stood over him with a pan of melted snow water. "You didn't have to do that," said Eragon angrily, pushing himself up. He felt dizzy and unsteady.
Brom arched an eyebrow. "Oh? A real enemy wouldn't soften his blows, and neither will I. Should I pander to your...incompetence so you'll feel better? I don't think so." He picked up the stick that Eragon had dropped and held it out. "Now, defend yourself."
Eragon stared blankly at the piece of wood, then shook his head. "Forget it; I've had enough." He turned away and stumbled as he was whacked loudly across the back. He spun around, growling.
"Never turn your back to the enemy!" snapped Brom, then tossed the stick at him and attacked. Eragon retreated around the fire, beneath the onslaught. "Pull your arms in. Keep your knees bent," shouted Brom. He continued to give instructions, then paused to show Eragon exactly how to execute a certain move. "Do it again, but this time slowly!" They slid through the forms with exaggerated motions before returning to their furious battle. Eragon learned quickly, but no matter what he tried, he could not hold Brom off for more than a few blows.
When they finished, Eragon flopped on his blankets and groaned. He hurt everywhere—Brom had not been gentle with his stick.
"Wait..." Brom turned and regarded Daemon who raised a brow as Brom tossed the stick that Eragon had been holding to him, the Dragonborn catching it easily. "Now you. Let's see what you know."
Daemon stared at him before he shrugged and got to his feet. "This won't be fair to you." He warned.
"Humour me." Was all the old man said in response.
Daemon cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as he gripped the stick tightly while staring fiercely at Brom. Eragon and Saphira looked back and fourth between them as they circled each other.
Daemon is skilled. Saphira suddenly said to her Rider, her eyes on the mysterious young man in their presence. He holds his stick like a man who has held weapons and been in battles.
Eragon nodded, curious about Daemon. He glanced at Saphira. What do you think about him?
He is as driven as you are, little one. She nuzzled her Rider before settling her eyes on Daemon again. He keeps everything closely guarded, and gives nothing away.
He seems quite in awe of you though. Eragon remarked with a small grin, making the dragoness snort in amusement.
Daemon and Brom came to a stop, drawing the Rider and his dragon's attention. Finally, Brom struck first with an overhead attack, but Daemon blocked the attack with his stick, barely breaking his guard as he shifted to hold it in front of him. Brom tightened his grip and swung again from the side, but Daemon blocked that and pushed Brom back, twirling his stick again then he blocked an overhead attack, followed by a side swing, then jumped to avoid getting his legs hit, twirled and blocked another attack from Brom's stick.
"Impressive." Brom commented.
Daemon shifted to another stance, one built for defence more than offence. However, it was to also get an insight into Brom's attack pattern as he continued to block and parry Brom's attacks, looking for an opening. Brom went for an overhead swing again but Daemon blocked and parried Brom's blow to the left, allowing him to twirl around Brom and deliver a smack on the old man's back, sending him stumbling forward a little before he turned only for Daemon to smack the stick out of his hand and point his own at the old man.
"Dead." Daemon determined with a small smirk.
""Very impressive." Brom said with a look of respect in his eyes as Daemon lowered his stick and tossed it aside. "Not many can say they beat me in the first encounter. You've been taught well."
"Thank you." Daemon nodded and took his spot again.
"Nice job, Daemon." Eragon sent the man a smile.
Indeed, that was quite impressive swordsmanship. Saphira added.
"Thank you both." Daemon gave them a smile before he went to turn in for the night,
Saphira let out a long, coughing growl and curled her lip until a formidable row of teeth showed.
What's wrong with you? Eragon asked with a raised eyebrow.
Nothing, she replied. It's funny to see a hatchling like you beaten by the old one. She made the sound again, and Eragon turned red as he realized that she was laughing. Trying to preserve some dignity, he followed Daemon's example, rolled onto his side and fell asleep.
As the ruts in the road deepened, they noticed more footprints. Farms signalled their approach to Therinsford. The village was larger than Carvahall, but it had been constructed haphazardly, the houses aligned in no particular order.
The Anora River flowed between them and the town, spanned by a stout bridge. As they approached it, a greasy man stepped from behind a bush and barred their way. His shirt was too short, and his dirty stomach spilled over a rope belt. Behind his cracked lips, his teeth looked like crumbling tombstones. "You c'n stop right there. This's my bridge. Gotta pay t' get over."
Brom said in a resigned tone, "How much?" He pulled out a pouch of coins and the bridge troll brightened.
"Five crowns," he said, his lips in a broad smile now. Eragon's temper flared at the unruly price, but a look from Brom silenced him. The coins were wordlessly handed over and the man put them into the larger of two pouches on his belt. "Thank'ee." he said mockingly, and stood aside to let them pass. Stepping forward, Brom suddenly stumbled and grabbed the man's arm for support. "Whatch yer self." The man grumbled and silded away. Brom apologized and continued across the bridge with the other two.
"Why didn't you haggle? He skinned you alive!" Eragon protested after they were out of earshot. "He probably doesn't even own the bridge, we could have pushed right past him."
"Some enjoy the illusion of control." Daemon said with his lips twitching into a small smirk. "Best let them remain ignorant and use other ways."
"Like what?" Eragon frowned, confused.
Brom chuckled and held up his hand, opening it to reveal several gold coins. "As Daemon said, let the fools think they've gotten their way. They don't pay attention to anything else."
"You cut his purse!" Eragon gasped incredulously.
Brom pocketed the money with a wink. "And it held a surprising amount. He should know better than to keep all these coins in one place."
"He may also want to pay greater attention when around a master thief." Daemon said, holding u a heavy coin purge, the coins clinking as they touched each other. Eragon gaped at him while Brom chuckled, impressed.
There was a sudden howl of anguish from the other side of the river. "I'd say our friend has just discovered his loss. If you see any watchmen, tell me." Brom told them, then grabbed the shoulder of a young boy running between the houses and asked, "Do you know where we can buy horses?" The child stared at them with solemn eyes, then pointed to a large barn near the edge of Therinsford. "Thank you," said Brom, tossing him a small coin.
The barn's large double doors were open, revealing two long rows of stalls. The far wall was covered with saddles, harnesses, and other paraphernalia. A man with muscular arms stood at the end, brushing a white stallion. He raised a hand and beckoned for them to come over.
As they approached, Brom said, "That's a beautiful animal."
"Indeed. His name is Snowfire, mine's Haberth." The man offered a rough palm and shook hands with them. There was a polite pause as he waited for the their name, and when none were forthcoming he continued, "Can I help you?"
Nodding Brom spoke again, "We need two horses and a full set of tack for each. The horses will have to be fast and tough; we'll be doing a lot of traveling."
"Two horses?" Haberth frowned, looking between them.
"Our friend here already has one." Brom said, gesturing to Daemon.
"Right." Haberth nodded, then looked thoughtful. Well,I don't have many animals like that, and the ones I do have aren't cheap."
"Price is no object," Brom assured him. "We'll take the best you have." Haberth nodded and silently tied Snowfire to the wall. He then proceeded to pull down saddles and other items until he had two identical piles. Next he walked up the line of stalls and brought out two horses. One was a light bay, and a roan. The bay tugged a little at its rope.
"The bay is a little spirited, but with a firm hand you shouldn't have a problem." Haberth said as he handed the bay's rope to Brom. Brom let the horse smell his hand and it allowed him to pat its neck.
"He'll do," he said, then eyed the roan. "I'm not so sure about the other one though."
"There are some good legs on him."
"Mmm... What will you take for Snowfire?"
Haberth looked fondly at the stallion. "I'd rather not sell him. He's the finest I've ever bred—I'm hoping to sire a whole line from him."
"If you were willing to part with him, how much would all of this cost me?" asked Brom. Meanwhile, Eragon was having difficulty in getting his horse to trust him. He automatically reached out with his mind to reassure the horse, stiffening with surprise as he touched the animal's consciousness. The contact was not clear or sharp like it was with Saphira, but he could communicate with the bay to a limited degree. Tentatively, he made it understand that he was a friend. The horse calmed and looked at him with liquid brown eyes.
Haberth used his fingers to count up the price of the purchases. "Two hundred crowns and no less." he stated, confident that no one would pay that price. Brom silently opened his purse and counted out the money.
"Will this do?" he asked.
There was a long silence as Haberth glanced between Snowfire and the coins. A sigh, then, "He is yours, though I go against my heart."
"I will treat him as if he had been sired by Gildintor, the greatest steed of legend," said Brom.
"Your words gladden me," answered Haberth, bowing his head slightly. He helped them saddle the horses. When they were ready to leave, he said, "Farewell, then. For the sake of Snowfire, I hope that misfortune does not befall you."
"Do not fear; I will guard him well," promised Brom as they departed. "Here," he said, handing Snowfire's reins to Eragon, "go to the far side of Therinsford and wait there."
"Why?" asked Eragon, but Brom had already slipped away.
"That man is starting to annoy me." Daemon muttered, Eragon nodding in agreement. Together, they made their way out of Therinsford with the two horses and stationed themselves beside the road. Along the way, Eragon glanced occasionally at Daemon who seemed not to notice... "You have questions obviously if you're going to keep looking at me, Eragon."
Okay, he did notice.
"Sorry." Eragon's cheeks reddened as Daemon looked at him with a look of amusement. "It's just... you don't talk often, and you keep your past guarded aside from what you've told us. If you're going to be on this journey with us, I have to know I can trust you to watch my back, to watch Saphira's."
Daemon raised a brow. "I think she can look after herself, Eragon. I actually pity those that try messing with her."
I appreciate the words. Saphira said in Eragon's head, and he relayed the words to Daemon who nodded.
"I understand what you're saying, Eragon." Daemon said with a sigh. "It's just I have... trust issues. I've been betrayed a couple of times by those I thought I could trust, and ever since I prefer to keep people at arms' length. It's nothing against you, or Saphira, or Brom, it's just the way I am. But, if it'll make things between us easier as we travel, I wouldn't mind us talking more and getting to develop a friendship. The same with Saphira."
Eragon raised a brow. "What about Brom?" He asked, before grinning in amusement when Daemon levelled him with a 'you're kidding, right?' look before chuckling himself.
Brom soon joined them and gestured them to follow him. They walked until Therinsford was hidden by trees. Then Brom said, "The Ra'zac definitely passed this way. Apparently they stopped here to pick up horses, as we did. I was able to find a man who saw them. He described them with many shudders and said that they galloped out of Therinsford like demons fleeing a holy man."
"They left quite an impression." Eragon noted.
"Quite." Brom nodded his head, then looked at Daemon. "Now, where's your horse?"
Before Daemon could speak, they herd the heigh of a horse which made them turn in the direction it came from. Out of the woods, a darkened area of it, as if the shadows themselves took on a physical form, a black horse with red eyes stepped out and trotted over to stand before his rider who smiled and patted his snout.
"This is my horse." Daemon said softly. "His name is Shadowmere, and has been my friend through many dangers."
"He's... certainly something." Eragon commented as he approached, well aware of the horse's eyes on him.
"Don't worry, he won't do anything. You can touch him." Daemon said with a small smile after giving Shadowmere a look, to which the shadow horse snorted. Eragon placed his hand on Shadowmere's side, slowly running his hand along.
"He's amazing." Eragon said with a smile.
"Just wait until you see him in action." Daemon smirked. "He can outrun many creatures said to be faster than a horse."
"Now that I would like to see." Brom commented, holding the reins of his horse. "Now, if you two are done..."
Saddling their respective horses,they started off at a gentle pace. Before long the countryside began to change as cultivated fields yielded to wilder land. Brambles and tangled weeds lined the road, along with huge rosebushes that clung to their clothes. Tall rocks slanted out of the ground—gray witnesses to their presence. There was an unfriendly feel in the air, an animosity that resisted intruders.
Above them, growing larger with every step, loomed Utgard, its craggy precipices deeply furrowed with snowy canyons. The black rock of the mountain absorbed light like a sponge and dimmed the surrounding area. Between Utgard and the line of mountains that formed the east side of Palancar Valley was a deep cleft. It was the only practical way out of the valley. The road led toward it.
The horses' hooves clacked sharply over gravel, and the road dwindled to a skinny trail as it skirted the base of Utgard. Eragon glanced up at the peak looming over them and was startled to see a steepled tower perched upon it. The turret was crumbling and in disrepair, but it was still a stern sentinel over the valley. At his inquiry about the ruin, Brom explained that it was an outpost of the Riders and where Vrael took refuge after the Fall... until Galbatorix himself came and killed him.
They traveled for long hours around Utgard. It formed a solid wall to their right as they entered the breach that divided the mountain range. Eragon stood in his stirrups; he was impatient to see what lay outside of Palancar, but it was still too far away. For a while they were in a sloped pass, winding over hill and gully, following the Anora River. Then, with the sun low behind their backs, they mounted a rise and saw over the trees.
Eragon gasped and Daemon couldn't help but whistle. On either side were mountains, but below them stretched a huge plain that extended to the distant horizon and fused into the sky. The plain was a uniform tan, like the color of dead grass. Long, wispy clouds swept by overhead, shaped by fierce winds. No doubt it would've taken them weeks or months to cross such land on foot. Far above they saw Saphira circling, high enough to be mistaken for a bird.
"We'll wait until tomorrow to make the descent," said Brom. "It's going to take most of the day, so we should camp now."
"How far across is the plain?" Eragon asked, still amazed.
"Two or three days to over a fortnight, depending on which direction we go. Aside from the nomad tribes that roam this section of the plains, it's almost as uninhabited as the Hadarac Desert to the east. So we aren't going to find many villages. However, to the south the plains are less arid and more heavily populated."
They left the trail and dismounted by the Anora River to make camp. Eragon named his mount Cadoc. When Saphira landed, he asked, How do the plains look?
Dull. There's nothing but rabbits and scrub in every direction.
After dinner, Brom stood and barked, "Catch!" Eragon barely had time to raise his arm and grab the piece of wood before it hit him on the head. He groaned as he saw another makeshift sword.
"Good luck." Daemon offered from where he sat, now sitting closer to the camp rather than on the outskirts like an outsider. He was taking Eragon up on the offer to establish a friendship, which is why his position was closer to Eragon and Saphira's, and he leaned forward with his legs crossed in a basket to watch the spar about to take place.
"Thanks, I may need it." Eragon grumbled.
"Oh don't be so relaxed." Brom shot a smirk at Daemon. "It'll be your turn next. I want to see more of your skills for myself, and then you can help me train Eragon."
Now Eragon grumbled more, while Saphira chuckled in amusement. Daemon raised a brow then looked at Eragon. "Now you'll definitely need the luck."
The training session was shorter than the first, but it was still long enough for Eragon to amass a new collection of bruises. When they finished sparring, he tossed the stick to Daemon who was getting up to take his place against Brom, and the fight ended a little similar to the last one with Daemon landing a few more smacks to Brom but he also got a few of his own in, leaving some bruises on the Dragonborn but not as much as what Eragon sustained.
The young Rider pouted when he saw this. "Unfair." He grumbled.
Daemon plopped beside him and nudged him. "Have faith, you can get as skilled as me with more practice."
Eragon smiled at the supportive words and thanked him, before they all laid down to rest for the night.
And that's it for this chapter everyone. Let me know what you think in the reviews, and be sure to favourite and follow this story if you're loving it.