Disclaimer: I do not own The Inheritance Cycle or The Elder Scrolls series.
The days began to pass quickly, and the group soon found themselves in the Spine, making their way toward the mountain pass that would lead them to the coast. As the days passed, they would set into a routine. Brom would continue to teach Eragon about magic and other aspects, with Daemon giving his own advice and knowledge about the mystic arts even though this land's magic was different compared to Skyrim's.
Both Rider and Dragonborn were also taught the ancient language and their knowledge of that grew with each passing lesson.
Not only that, but Eragon's physical skills continued to improve under Brom and Daemon's tutelage. There would be nights it would be just Daemon and Eragon sparring, then just Eragon and Brom, and at times the three of them would spar together, with Brom encouraging Eragon and Daemon's teamwork.
And when Daemon wasn't with Brom and Eragon, he was in his dragon form and flying with Saphira, wanting to keep his skills sharp. Saphira was more than happy to help, as she enjoyed spending time with him. The two would go for a simple flight together in the afternoon, or even a nightly flight before they'd turn in. They'd hunt together, then have a playful race or fight with them soon making a competition out of who has the most wins, with the score currently being matched at seven each in terms of their playful scraps. For their races, that was also evenly matched with five each.
After two days in the Spine, they came across a rock ledge, which offered a clear view out of the mountains. Eragon noticed the flattened land ahead, and groaned at the distance still left to cover. Brom tried to raise his spirits by pointing out they were making good time. "Teirm lays just to the north of here. It is one of the older cities, one with a remarkable history of being able to withstand many attacks over the ages."
It took them until noon the following day to complete their descent through the foothills, and arrive on the other side of the Spine. Beyond the forest, they noticed a change in their surroundings. The countryside was covered with soft turf and heather that their feet sunk into. Pools of mud were frequent on the road, and it didn't take long for both riders and horses to be covered with grime.
"Why is everything green?" asked Eragon. "Don't they have winter here?"
"Yes, but the season is mild. Mist and fog roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me it's dreary and depressing."
When evening fell, they set up camp in the driest spot they could find. As they ate, Brom commented, "You two should continue to ride Cadoc and Shadowmere until we reach Teirm." Daemon and Eragon voice their complaints at this; Daemon wanted to be in dragon form again, and Eragon was itching to go flying on Saphira. Brom ignored them. "It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if you are with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion. With you at my side, no one will ask questions. Besides, I don't want to show up at the city and have someone who saw me on the trail wondering where you suddenly came from."
"Will we use our own names?" asked Eragon.
Brom thought about it. "We won't be able to deceive Jeod. He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal and you will be my nephews Evan and Alastor. If our tongues slip and give us away, it probably won't make a difference, but I don't want our names in anyone's heads. People have an annoying habit of remembering things they shouldn't."
Daemon frowned. "Alastor? Was that the best you could come up with?"
"There are several other names I could call you if you like." Brom growled back, earning a laugh from all around the fire before they turned in for the night.
After two days of traveling north toward the ocean, Saphira sighted Teirm. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring Brom's, Daemon's and Eragon's sight until a breeze from the west blew the mist away. Eragon gaped as Teirm was suddenly revealed before them, nestled by the edge of the shimmering sea, where proud ships were docked with furled sails. The surf's dull thunder could be heard in the distance.
The city was contained behind a white wall—a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick—with rows of rectangular arrow slits lining it and a walkway on top for soldiers and watchmen. The wall's smooth surface was broken by two iron portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other opening south to the road. Above the wall—and set against its northeast section—rose a huge citadel built of giant stones and turrets. In the highest tower, a lighthouse lantern gleamed brilliantly. The castle was the only thing visible over the fortifications.
Soldiers guarded the southern gate but held their pikes carelessly. "This is our first test," said Brom. "Let's hope they haven't received reports of us from the Empire and won't detain us. Whatever happens, don't panic or act suspiciously."
Eragon told Saphira, You should land somewhere now and hide. We're going in.
Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Again, she said sourly.
I know. But Brom and I do have some advantages most people don't. We'll be all right.
If anything happens, I'm going to grip the two of you in my claws and never release you..
We love you too, mother. Daemon said sarcastically, rolling his eyes in amusement at Saphira's protectiveness which she had begun extending towards Daemon.
Then I will hold you all the tighter, hatchlings.
They rode toward the gate, trying to appear casual. A yellow pennant bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom waved over the entrance. As they neared the wall, Eragon asked in amazement, "How big is this place?"
"Larger than any city you have ever seen," said Brom.
Daemon snorted. "You should see the city of Solitude in Skyrim."
At the entrance to Teirm, the guards stood straighter and blocked the gate with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" asked one of them in a bored tone.
"I'm called Neal," said Brom in a wheezy voice, slouching to one side, an expression of happy idiocy on his face.
"And who's th' other ones?" asked the guard.
"Well, I wus gettin' to that. This'ed be m'nephews Evan n' Alastor. They's m'sister's boys, not a . . ."
The guard nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. And yer business here?"
"We's visitin an old friend," supplied Eragon, dropping his voice into a thick accent. "We's be along t' make sure don't get lost, if y' get m' meaning."
"Aye, he ain't as young as he used to be," Daemon joined in. "Touch o' the brain fever, y'know?" Brom bobbed his head pleasantly at this.
"Right, go on in." The guard waved them through and dropped his pike. "Just make sure he don't cause no trouble."
"Oh, he won't." they promised. Daemon and Eragon urged their horses onwards, pass the guard patrol, pass the gates, and into the city. Once they were a good distance from the guards, Brom sat up and growled,
"Touch of brain fever, eh?"
"Like Oblivion were you getting to have all the fun." Daemon retorted, while Eragon held his sides from laughing.
Brom harrumphed and looked away.
The houses were grim and foreboding. Small, deep windows let in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The tops of the roofs were flat—except for metal railings—and all were covered with slate shingles. Eragon noticed that the houses closest to Teirm's outer wall were no more than one story, but the buildings got progressively higher as they went in. Those next to the citadel were tallest of all, though insignificant compared to the fortress.
Daemon let out a low whistle. "This place looks like it's preparing for a war."
Brom nodded. "Teirm has a history of being attacked by pirates, Urgals, and other enemies. It has long been a center of commerce. There will always be conflict where riches gather in such abundance. The people here have been forced to take extraordinary measures to keep themselves from being overrun. It also helps that Galbatorix gives them soldiers to defend their city."
"Why are some houses higher than others?" Eragon asked.
"Look at the citadel," said Brom, pointing. "It has an unobstructed view of Teirm. If the outer wall were breached, archers would be posted on all the roofs. Because the houses in the front, by the outer wall, are lower, the men farther back could shoot over them without fear of hitting their comrades. Also, if the enemy were to capture those houses and put their own archers on them, it would be an easy matter to shoot them down."
"I've never seen a city planned like this," said Eragon in wonder.
"Yes, but it was only done after Teirm was nearly burned down by a pirate raid," commented Brom. As they continued up the street, people gave them searching looks, but there was not an undue amount of interest.
After stopping at a local (and dingy) tavern, they acquired directions to where they might find Jeod's house. They came to a herbalist's shop, which sat between two houses. The short-curly haired woman, who they assumed to be Angela the herbalist sat out front with a piece of parchment in one hand, and a frog in the other. "Excuse me, could you tell us which house is Jeod's?" Brom asked politely.
"I could." She continued writing.
"Will you tell us?"
"Yes." She fell silent, but her pen scribbled faster than ever. The frog on her hand croaked and looked at them with baleful eyes. They waited uncomfortably, but she said no more. Daemon and Eragon shared a look, and the young Rider was about to blurt something out when Angela looked up. "Of course I'll tell you! All you have to do is ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you, and the second was if I would tell you. But you never actually put the question to me."
"Then let me ask properly," said Brom with a smile. "Which house is Jeod's? And why are you holding a frog?"
"Now we're getting somewhere," she bantered. "Jeod is on the right. And as for the frog, he's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove that toads don't exist—that there are only frogs."
"How can toads not exist if you have one on your hand right now?" interrupted Eragon. "Besides, what good will it do, proving that there are only frogs?"
The woman shook her head vigorously, dark curls bouncing. "No, no, you don't understand. If I prove toads don't exist, then this is a frog and never was a toad. Therefore, the toad you see now doesn't exist. And," she raised a small finger, "if I can prove there are only frogs, then toads won't be able to do anything bad—like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads around."
"I see," said Brom delicately. "It sounds interesting, and I would like to hear more, but we have to meet Jeod."
"Of course," she said, waving her hand and returning to her writing.
Once they were out of the herbalist's hearing, Eragon said, "She's crazy!"
"City people came in all sorts." Daemon said with a slightly amused smirk. "I've met crazier and weirder people in my lifetime."
"Agreed." Brom nodded. "But you never know, she might discover something useful, so don't criticize. Who knows, toads might really be frogs!"
"And my shoes are made of gold," retorted Eragon.
They stopped before a door with a wrought-iron knocker and marble doorstep. Brom banged three times. No one answered. Eragon felt slightly foolish. "Maybe this is the wrong house. Let's try the other one," he said. Brom ignored him and knocked again, pounding loudly.
Again no one answered. Eragon turned away in exasperation, then heard someone run to the door. A young woman with a pale complexion and light blond hair cracked it open. Her eyes were puffy; it looked like she had been crying, but her voice was perfectly steady. "Yes, what do you want?"
"Does Jeod live here?" asked Brom kindly.
The woman dipped her head a little. "Yes, he is my husband. Is he expecting you?" She opened the door no farther.
"No, but we need to talk with him," said Brom.
"He is very busy."
"We have traveled far. It's very important that we see him."
Her face hardened. "He is busy."
Brom bristled, but his voice stayed pleasant. "Since he is unavailable, would you please give him a message?" Her mouth twitched, but she consented. "Tell him that a friend from Gil'ead is waiting outside."
The woman seemed suspicious, but said, "Very well." She closed the door abruptly. Eragon heard her footsteps recede. Daemon crossed his arms over his chest.
"That wasn't very polite." Eragon commented.
"Keep your opinions to yourself," snapped Brom. "And don't say anything. Let me do the talking." He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers.
The door suddenly flew open, and a tall man burst out of the house. His expensive clothes were rumpled, his gray hair wispy, and he had a mournful face with short eyebrows. A long scar stretched across his scalp to his temple.
At the sight of them, his eyes grew wide, and he sagged against the doorframe, speechless. His mouth opened and closed several times like a gasping fish. He asked softly, in an incredulous voice, "Brom...?"
Brom put a finger to his lips and reached forward, clasping the man's arm. "It's good to see you, Jeod! I'm glad that memory has not failed you, but don't use that name. It would be unfortunate if anyone knew I was here."
Jeod looked around wildly, shock plain on his face. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "What happened? Why haven't you contacted me before?"
"All things will be explained. Do you have a place where we can talk safely?"
Jeod hesitated, swinging his gaze between Eragon, Daemon and Brom, face unreadable. Finally he said, "We can't talk here, but if you wait a moment, I'll take you somewhere we can."
"Fine," said Brom. Jeod nodded and vanished behind the door.
I hope I can learn something of Brom's past, thought Eragon. Daemon was on the same thought process, though he did understand the reason one keeps secrets.
There was a rapier at Jeod's side when he reappeared. An embroidered jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, matched by a plumed hat. Brom cast a critical eye at the finery, and Jeod shrugged self-consciously.
He took them through Teirm toward the citadel. Eragon and Daemon led the horses behind the two men. Jeod gestured at their destination. "Risthart, the lord of Teirm, has decreed that all the business owners must have their headquarters in his castle. Even though most of us conduct our business elsewhere, we still have to rent rooms there. It's nonsense, but we abide by it anyway to keep him calm. We'll be free of eavesdroppers in there; the walls are thick."
They went through the fortress's main gate and into the keep. Jeod strode to a side door and pointed to an iron ring. "You can tie the horses there. No one will bother them." When Snowfire, Shadowmere and Cadoc were safely tethered, he opened the door with an iron key and let them inside.
Within was a long, empty hallway lit by torches set into the walls. Eragon was surprised by how cold and damp it was. When he touched the wall, his fingers slid over a layer of slime. He shivered.
Jeod snatched a torch from its bracket and led them down the hall. They stopped before a heavy, wooden door. He unlocked it and ushered them into a room dominated by a bearskin rug laden with stuffed chairs. Bookshelves stacked with leather-bound tomes covered the walls.
Jeod piled wood in the fireplace, then thrust the torch under it. The fire quickly roared. "You, old man, have some explaining to do."
Brom's face crinkled with a smile. "Who are you calling an old man? The last time I saw you there was no gray in your hair. Now it looks like it's in the final stages of decomposition."
"And you look the same as you did nearly twenty years ago. Time seems to have preserved you as a crotchety old man just to inflict wisdom upon each new generation. Enough of this! Get on with the story. That's always what you were good at," said Jeod impatiently.
Brom relaxed into a chair and pulled out his pipe. He slowly blew a smoke ring that turned green, darted into the fireplace, then flew up the chimney. "Do you remember what we were doing in Gil'ead?"
"Yes, of course," said Jeod. "That sort of thing is hard to forget."
"An understatement, but true nevertheless," said Brom dryly. "When we were... separated, I couldn't find you. In the midst of the turmoil I stumbled into a small room. There wasn't anything extraordinary in it—just crates and boxes—but out of curiosity, I rummaged around anyway. Fortune smiled on me that hour, for I found what we had been searching for." An expression of shock ran over Jeod's face. "Once it was in my hands, I couldn't wait for you. At any second I might have been discovered, and all lost. Disguising myself as best I could, I fled the city and ran to the..." Brom hesitated and glanced at Eragon and Daemon, then said, "ran to our friends. They stored it in a vault, for safekeeping, and made me promise to care for whomever received it. Until the day when my skills would be needed, I had to disappear. No one could know that I was alive—not even you—though it grieved me to pain you unnecessarily. So I went north and hid in Carvahall."
Eragon clenched his jaw. He's hiding something from us. He commented to Daemon.
What else is new there? Daemon retorted dryly.
Jeod frowned and asked, "Then our... friends knew that you were alive all along?"
"Yes."
He sighed. "I suppose the ruse was unavoidable, though I wish they had told me. Isn't Carvahall farther north, on the other side of the Spine?" Brom inclined his head. For the first time, Jeod inspected Eragon. His gray eyes took in every detail. He raised his eyebrows and said, "I assume, then, that you are fulfilling your duty."
Brom shook his head. "No, it's not that simple. It was stolen a while ago—at least that's what I presume, for I haven't received word from our friends, and I suspect their messengers were waylaid—so I decided to find out what I could. Eragon happened to be traveling in the same direction. We have stayed together for a time now."
Jeod looked puzzled. "But if they haven't sent any messages, how could you know that it was—"
Brom overrode him quickly, saying, "Eragon's uncle was brutally killed by the Ra'zac. They burned his home and nearly caught him in the process. He deserves revenge, but they have left us without a trail to follow, and we need help finding them."
Jeod's face cleared. "I see... But why have you come here? I don't know where the Ra'zac might be hiding, and anyone who does won't tell you."
Standing, Brom reached into his robe and pulled out the Ra'zac's flask. He tossed it to Jeod. "There's Seithr oil in there—the dangerous kind. The Ra'zac were carrying it. They lost it by the trail, and we happened to find it. We need to see Teirm's shipping records so we can trace the Empire's purchases of the oil. That should tell us where the Ra'zac's lair is."
Lines appeared on Jeod's face as he thought. He pointed at the books on the shelves. "Do you see those? They are all records from my business. One business. You have gotten yourself into a project that could take months. There is another, greater problem. The records you seek are held in this castle, but only Brand, Risthart's administrator of trade, sees them on a regular basis. Traders such as myself aren't allowed to handle them. They fear that we will falsify the results, thus cheating the Empire of its precious taxes."
"I can deal with that when the time comes," said Brom. "But we need a few days of rest before we can think about proceeding."
Jeod smiled. "It seems that it is my turn to help you. My house is yours, of course. Do you have another name while you are here?"
"Yes," said Brom, "I'm Neal, and the two of them are Evan and Alastor."
"Eragon," said Jeod thoughtfully. "You have a unique name. Few have ever been named after the first Rider. In my life I've read about only three people who were called such." Eragon was startled that Jeod knew the origin of his name.
Brom looked at Eragon and Daemon. "Could you go check on the horses and make sure they're all right? I don't think I tied Snowfire to the ring tightly enough."
Annoyed that Brom was trying to hide something from them, both Daemon and Eragon returned to the horses, dismayed that they weren't going to hear what Brom had to say. Muttering to themselves about the old man's secrecy, Eragon was then struck with an idea. He told Daemon to join his mind with his own, and using words the Brom had taught him in the ancient language, produced a spell that would allow them to eavesdrop on the older man's conversation.
"Thverr stenr un atra eka horna!" Eragon leaned back against the cold stone wall, and suddenly he could hear the two men inside as if they were still standing next to them. Grinning, he looked over at Daemon, who nodded that it was working, and the boys proceeded to close their eye and listen to what was being said.
As it turns out, Brom and Jeod had quite a complicated past. The details were still obscure, but the best the two boys could make out, Brom and Jeod had been hired by certain people at odds with the Empire to steal something from Gil'ead. It was this that had led Brom to let his friend think he had been dead for nearly twenty years. They also mentioned a place called Tronjheim, that among other things, was a dwarven settlement. Jeod suggested they return there to due to the possibility of their being a spy among them. Brom flat out refused, stating that Eragon and Saphira were not yet ready, that they may not be for some time.
Eragon started at the mention of his dragon and dwarves, but Daemon motioned for him to wait and see what else was said. Brom went on to ask Jeod if there was a messenger he could send, as told him he would send his ring along as proof to the figure called 'Ajihad' that he was who he claimed he was. Then, Jeod asked about Daemon to which Brom told him that he was a warrior from the land of Skyrim. A skilled warrior and Eragon's best friend. Daemon was relieved that Brom did not tell him of his Dragonborn status, as he didn't want that being thrown around and getting back to the King. Not until he felt it was okay for that knowledge to be widely known.
Daemon and Eragon were trying to figure out what all of what they had just heard meant, when they heard Brom say that they should return to check on them. Eragon quickly let go of the spell, and Daemon withdrew from his mind. They whispered to themselves about what could be going on, but stopped when Brom and Jeod exited the building.
Jeod led them back through the streets of Teirm, and offered them lodging at his house. He took them out to a much nicer tavern for a meal, and as they were returning to the house, Eragon motioned for Daemon to wait. "You two go on ahead; there's something Daemon and I want to check on."
Brom agreed absently. "Be careful. Don't take too long."
"Wait," said Jeod. "Are you going outside Teirm?" Eragon hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "Make sure you're inside the walls before dark. The gates close then, and the guards won't let you back in until morning."
"We won't be late," promised Eragon. He and Daemon turned around and loped down a side street, toward Teirm's outer wall.
Once out of the city, Eragon breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh air. Saphira! he called. Where are you? She guided them off the road, to the base of a mossy cliff surrounded by maples. They saw her head poke out of the trees on the top and waved. How are we supposed to get up there?
If you find a clearing, I'll come down and get you.
No, he said, eyeing the cliff, that won't be necessary. We'll just climb up. Daemon had already begun to scale the cliff.
It's too dangerous.
And you worry too much. Let us have some fun.
Eragon pulled off his gloves and started climbing after Daemon. Both of them relished the physical challenge. There were plenty of handholds, so the ascent was easy. They were soon high above the trees. Halfway up, Eragon stopped on a ledge to catch his breath while Daemon, quicker than normal humans, was able to make it to the top and roll aside.
As he neared the top, his footing suddenly gave way, and Eragon started to fall. Lighting quick, a pair of hands grabbed his arm, and he looked up. Daemon lay on his chest over the edge, hanging on to Eragon with both hands, and behind him, Saphira had Daemon's legs held firm with her own paws. He smiled sheepishly as he dangled in mid air.
Are we having fun yet? The sapphire-coloured dragoness laughed. She and Daemon pulled Eragon up and onto the ledge, and he patted their shoulders in thanks. Saphira gently licked his cheek, Foolishness.
Eragon looked away, studying the landscape. The cliff provided a wonderful view of their surroundings, especially the foaming sea, as well as protection against unwelcome eyes. Only birds would see Saphira here. It was an ideal location.
Is Brom's friend trustworthy? she asked.
I don't know. Eragon proceeded to recount the day's events. There are forces circling us that we aren't aware of. Sometimes I wonder if we can ever understand the true motives of the people around us. They all seem to have secrets.
It is the way of the world. Ignore all the schemes and trust in the nature of each person. Brom is good. He means us no harm. We don't have to fear his plans. This finding of the Ra'zac is a strange way to track. Do you think it will work?
Maybe, Eragon said. You know, we may have to stay here awhile.
Saphira's answer held a hard edge. And as always, I will be left to wait outside. Eragon patted her neck consolingly.
You know that is not how I want it. He hugged her neck and smiled, Soon enough we will travel together again.
May that day come quickly.
It was then that they noticed how far the sun had set in the sky. We should go, Eragon told them, else we risk being locked out of the city. Hunt tomorrow, Saphira, and we will come visit you in the evening.
She spread her wings. Come, I will take you down. They got onto her back, and she gently launched off the cliff and glided to the ground below. As they thanked her and turned back to Teirm, she called after them. Daemon?
Would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow? Saphira asked, unable to help but shift a little nervously. Why was this any different to asking him before? She tried to ignore the feeling blooming in the pit of her stomach. Seeing as we're going to be here a while, I could do with some company.
Daemon blinked before he smiled. Sure. It'll give me something to do and not keep me bored.
Good. Saphira hummed in satisfaction.
They broke contact and Daemon ran to catch up with Eragon, the two of them just making it back into the city before the gates shut. The proceeded to make their way back to Jeod's house, and a plump butler answered their knock. He showed them to the study where Brom and Jeod were talking. The two men were discussing how to get into the offices of the person who kept the records to try and track down the Ra'zac. It was then that Eragon revealed he didn't know how to read. Although this set Brom's plans back considerably, he agreed to teach the young man how to read.
Eventually, everyone decided to turn in for the night upon seeing that it was getting late. The butler showed Daemon and Eragon to the room they would be sharing, and Daemon plopped down on his bed, not really caring about his state of dress, and closed his eyes to dive into the realm of dreams. Eragon was the same as he laid on his bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep not too long after.
And that's it for this chapter.