Brom woke up early, as always. Looking around, he noticed Simur frozen by the fire. He was sitting half-turned to the man, and the rays of the bright morning sun illuminated the calm face of the young man. Now he could get a good look at him. Yesterday, Brom remembered only dark, gray eyes with a scarlet tint with vertical pupils, black clothes and hair of the same color. Now, looking at the guy, Brom wondered how he managed to cope with the Urgal, and with knives at that. Simur was not at all large in build and about a head shorter than Eragon. Black hair, gathered in a low ponytail, reached the middle of his back and contrasted sharply with pale, almost white skin. Among several loose strands on the left side, several locks of silver hair were visible. A pale scar crossed his eyes, running from one temple to the other. Brom couldn't help but think that the young man should be blind, since the scar ran right across his eyes. Although such injuries can be treated by skilled mages. The Horseman's face was weathered, hard and expressionless.
Simur was dressed very plainly: soft knee-high boots, wide light pants, a belt on which hung twin knives in simple but obviously very good sheaths, a high-necked shirt, with a strange red pattern in the form of some runes visible on the collar. The young man also wore bracers, a leather vest and a wide cloak with sleeves almost to the elbows. A thin glove was worn on his left hand. Everything, except for the dark green shirt, was black. A dagger handle stuck out of his right boot, and a katana handle was visible over his left shoulder. There were no decorations on the weapon. "And yesterday the sword was gone," thought Brom. "Or maybe I just didn't notice."
All these observations didn't take long, but Simur apparently felt that he was being watched.
"Good morning," said the young man without turning around.
"Good," answered Brom.
"Everything was quiet last night, there are no Urgals within ten miles."
"I see. Didn't you sleep last night?" asked Brom. "By the way, where is Elesar?" the old man added.
"Elesar decided to fly. They won't notice him, you don't have to worry." Brom got up and started making breakfast. Simur had been sitting quietly all this time, silently watching the storyteller's actions. After waiting for him to eat, the young man said:
"Yesterday you promised that you would answer my questions." Brom nodded and looked expectantly at the boy, wondering what he would ask and how complete the answer might be.
— Please tell me a brief history of Alagaësia, about the Order of Riders, Galbatorix, the Varden, and the policies of the current ruler.
— Well, listen. The story will be long, — Brom sighed.
The story really took a long time. The old man told about the formation of the Order of Riders, its history and the goals it pursued. He briefly retold the history of Alagaësia, paying special attention to the last century. Brom also told about Galbatorix, his Forsworn, and the Varden. Simur listened very attentively and did not interrupt, thinking over the information. When the old man finished, the sun had already risen completely. The young Rider noted with irritation that the day was going to be clear and sunny.
— I see, — the young man said after a long silence, still looking somewhere into space. While Brom was speaking, he was watching him attentively, but unnoticeably. — That is, if the king finds out about Elesar and me, he will try to make us his allies. Or he will try to kill us if he decides that we are his enemies. It is the same with the Varden. And as a result, you will have to choose a side. Although, you can hide.
— I would advise joining the Varden, — Brom said, noting to himself how calmly the Rider spoke about a possible attempt on his own and his dragon's life. As if he was used to the fact that they wanted to kill him. — It is impossible to hide forever, and you simply will not be allowed to remain neutral. Sooner or later, you and Elesar will be noticed.
— Hm. Even so.
"What do you say, Elesar?"
"We have no choice, right?" — the dragon answered, having heard the entire conversation. — "It looks like you'll have to go either to the Varden or to Galbatorix. The main thing is to know that no matter what you decide, I'll go with you in any case."
"Thank you," — Simur thanked him sincerely. — "But what do you want? Brom wasn't lying when he spoke about the king. And I saw everything myself when I pulled out your egg."
"Yes, I remember, you told me and showed me. In that case, it's better to go to the Varden. But something is holding you back from that decision."
"First of all, it's dangerous. The Varden seem like a rather dubious force to me. Think about it, they've been around for many years, they have elves and dwarves as allies, but what have they achieved in all this time? They stole a dragon egg from the king, and only one, and they're all lying there in a row on stands under protection, I saw and even grabbed one, besides yours. Intuition. But I digress. Galbatorix is a powerful mage, but he's a human. And all elves are capable of magic. These people can be a terrible and merciless enemy if they want to. Take my word for it. Plus the dwarves. That's a whole other topic. They may be small, but in a fight they'll give any human a head start, and many elves too. But instead of organizing everything, the Varden and dwarves sit in the mountains, and the elves in the forests. And they're all waiting for a dragon to hatch from the stolen egg, which together with his Rider, he will defeat Galbatorix and Shruikan, who, mind you, have been alive for about a hundred years. Add to that the fact that I was able to come up with a plan in just one and a half to two months, break into the fortress of Ur'ubaen and not get caught. Yes, they helped me, but what prevented the same elves from using my method? After all, I am much inferior to them in magical mastery. But no, they are waiting for the Rider. I think that the Rider is needed there rather to inspire the people, as a political figure. Honestly, I really don't want to get involved in politics. It's dangerous. And secondly, I just don't want to go to war. Although I don't really like the king's politics, but firstly: this is Brom's story. From his point of view. Besides, the old man is not lying, but he is unlikely to tell everything. Secondly: now there is at least some kind of order in the country. If a war starts, there will be deaths, unrest, a whole bunch of shadow games. People don't need it. And you and I – even more so. I know what it's like too well."
"I know. Isn't that why you sleep so badly?"
"Yes."
"But Brom is right, we can't hide forever. Which means we'll have to join someone anyway. And I think it's better to join the Varden than Galbatorix. They need us much more, which means we have more opportunity to set our own terms, if necessary. It won't work with the king. He'll just kill us. Besides, I wouldn't want to fight Saphira. I can't explain it…"
"And don't," Simur interrupted the dragon, a little irritated. "Don't forget, I feel the same way you do."
"Are you judging me? I know you don't approve of attachment and sentimentality."
"No, I don't blame you. Although I admit, it irritates me. But it's your choice who you associate with and who you become attached to. Varden, then?" "Yes."
"But if we are not satisfied with the current conditions, we will leave immediately," the Rider warned.
Brom looked at Shimur. He realized that the young Rider was talking to his dragon. The old man hoped that they would agree to his offer. But at the same time, he understood that these two did not owe anyone anything. Besides, Brom did not know who this guy was. He looked no older than seventeen, but his gaze was too tenacious and cold. The gaze of a person who is well in control of himself and has seen a lot in life. Or not a person, although it is not important.
In his mind, Brom tried to compare Shimur and Eragon. The first looked younger, but at the same time clearly more experienced and much more reserved. Cold and calm. Outwardly, at least. Yesterday, when he saw Saphira, the young man didn't even flinch. Of course, one could think that he was sure that Elesar would be able to come to his aid in time if something happened, but even if that were the case, it was hard to remain calm when you saw an evil dragon trying to bite you in half. And even to dare to put a knife to the dragon's throat. Such self-control inspired respect. For some reason, Brom thought that if Simur had been in Eragon's place, he would never have rushed headlong to take revenge on the Ra'zac.
Brom also noticed that his new acquaintance was extremely distrustful. In his story, he mentioned only the bare facts, and said nothing about his skills. In fact, he said almost nothing at all. He came, took it, and left. Simur's voice tore the old man out of his thoughts:
- Elesar and I decided to go to the Varden.
- Then you are on our way. We'll go to them sooner or later, too. At least I will. Thank you.
- You're welcome for now, - Simur snapped. - I take it we'll be staying here?
- Yes, - Brom answered. - We all need to rest.
- Then I can sleep. Elesar will be back soon. I think it's best not to relax. The Darkness knows these Urgals.
After a short silence, Simur added:
- I'm forced to take an oath from you in the ancient language that you and your companions will not cause me or Elesar direct or indirect intentional harm.
To be honest, Brom didn't want to take any oaths, but he knew there was no other way. Simur didn't trust any of them, and that was right. Besides, the young man's demand was fair. After all, he had also taken such an oath. With these thoughts Brom said:
- /I swear that neither I nor my companions will intentionally cause you or your dragon direct or indirect harm, unless you try to do the same to us/.
- Thank you, - nodded Simur, after which he walked to the edge of the clearing where Elesar slept yesterday. There the young man fell asleep. The black dragon, returning half an hour later, curled up around his Rider, as if protecting him from the whole world, and began to look around the clearing with his wise silver eyes.
About fifteen minutes after Elesar's return, Saphira woke up.
- Good morning, - Brom greeted her.
"Good," - answered the dragoness. - "How is Eragon?"
- He's fine. We need to survey the area and track down yesterday's Urgals. They may have noticed Eragon's sorcery, and they know where we are now. Simur said there were no others within ten miles. That means they didn't stop for the night and have traveled far.
"No Urgal can outrun a dragon," Saphira said with conviction, jumping to her paws, causing the ground to shake and Elesar to make a face as if he was wincing. - "Sit on me. I saw where they ran yesterday."
Brom did so. As he was already fastening his feet in the stirrups, Elesar's voice rang out in his head:
"Yesterday's Urgals went northwest. There were about fifteen of them. After we met them, six more joined them. These are the remnants of the detachment that was pursuing us. We had to run into them. Now they are about 25-30 miles from us and they ran slowly. I think they will stop for a rest."
"Why didn't you kill them yesterday or, at worst, today?!" Saphira asked indignantly. Brom was also interested. Usually dragons, especially young ones, are always eager to fight.
"I'm not that reckless," Elesar snorted. Now his voice was very similar to Simur's. — "And besides, these Urgals are not Simur and I's problem. We've encountered them, but they haven't seen me. And I'm not so arrogant as to fight a couple dozen of such opponents alone. At the moment, it's beyond my powers. When hunting, first of all, you should make sure that you are the hunter. Besides, they don't pose a threat to Simur and me, so there's no point in unnecessary deaths. Life is the highest gift, and we have no right to decide who lives and who dies." Brom agreed with this. Although such reasoning was not typical of young dragons. These creatures are fierce by nature, but by the age of fifty they gain experience and intelligence, become calmer. Especially those whose Riders are elves. Therefore, Brom was somewhat surprised by such words from Elesar. He was no more than a year old. Perhaps he adopted Simur's point of view. This was also worth thinking about. "Can we trust you and your Rider? Perhaps you are a servant of Galbatorix and now want to lead us into a trap," Saphira asked unfriendly.
"Think more quietly," a third voice was heard. Elesar recognized his Rider. - "At least spare me the need to listen to your nonsense, otherwise I am already doubting the mental abilities of dragons. Like little children, honestly."
Saphira was about to grin, but then:
"Enough!" Brom barked. - Yesterday, Simur swore an oath to me in the ancient language that he would not harm us if we did not harm him. Today, I swore a similar oath to Simur, - and, looking at both dragons, added:
"So you can not worry about the safety of your Riders. And now fly, Saphira. We have little time.
After that, Saphira nodded and suddenly flew into the air, followed by Elesar's calm gaze.