by Eragon (lit)
you can’t argue with all of the fools in the world. It’s easier to let them have their way, then trick them when they’re not paying attention.Brom opened his hand, and a pile of coins glinted in the light.
cut his purse!said Eragon incredulously.
Brom pocketed the money with a wink. it held a surprising amount. He should know better than to keep all these coins in one place.There was a sudden howl of anguish from the other side of the river. ’d say our friend has just discovered his loss. If you see any watchmen, tell me.He grabbed the shoulder of a young boy running between the houses and asked, 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. 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, ’s a beautiful animal.
indeed. His name’s Snowfire. Mine’s Haberth.Haberth offered a rough palm and shook hands vigorously with Eragon and Brom. There was a polite pause as he waited for their names in return. When they were not forthcoming, he asked, I help you?
Brom nodded. need two horses and a full set of tack for both. The horses have to be fast and tough; we’ll be doing a lot of traveling.
Haberth was thoughtful for a moment. don’t have many animals like that, and the ones I do aren’t cheap.The stallion moved restlessly; he calmed it with a few strokes of his fingers.
is no object. I’ll take the best you have,said Brom. Haberth nodded and silently tied the stallion to a stall. He went to the wall and started pulling down saddles and other items. Soon he had two identical piles. Next he walked up the line of stalls and brought out two horses. One was a light bay, the other a roan. The bay tugged against his rope.
’s a little spirited, but with a firm hand you won’t have any problems,said Haberth, handing the bay’s rope to Brom.
Brom let the horse smell his hand; it allowed him to rub its neck. ’ll take him,he said, then eyed the roan. other one, however, I’m not so sure of.
are some good legs on him.
What will you take for Snowfire?
Haberth looked fondly at the stallion. ’d rather not sell him. He’s the finest I’ve ever bred—I’m hoping to sire a whole line from him.
you were willing to part with him, how much would all of this cost me?asked Brom.
Eragon tried to put his hand on the bay like Brom had, but it shied away. 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 add up the price of the purchase. hundred crowns and no less,he said with a smile, clearly confident that no one would pay that much. Brom silently opened his pouch and counted out the money.
this do?he asked.
There was a long silence as Haberth glanced between Snowfire and the coins. A sigh, then, is yours, though I go against my heart.
will treat him as if he had been sired by Gildintor, the greatest steed of legend,said Brom.
words gladden me,answered Haberth, bowing his head slightly. He helped them saddle the horses. When they were ready to leave, he said, then. For the sake of Snowfire, I hope that misfortune does not befall you.
not fear; I will guard him well,promised Brom as they departed. he said, handing Snowfire’s reins to Eragon, to the far side of Therinsford and wait there.
asked Eragon, but Brom had already slipped away. Annoyed, he exited Therinsford with the two horses and stationed himself beside the road. To the south he saw the hazy outline of Utgard, sitting like a giant monolith at the end of the valley. Its peak pierced the clouds and rose out of sight, towering over the lesser mountains that surrounded it. Its dark, ominous look made Eragon’s scalp tingle.
Brom returned shortly and gestured for Eragon to follow. They walked until Therinsford was hidden by trees. Then Brom said, 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.
left quite an impression.
Eragon patted the horses. we were in the barn, I touched the bay’s mind by accident. I didn’t know it was possible to do that.
Brom frowned. ’s unusual for one as young as you to have the ability. Most Riders had to train for years before they were strong enough to contact anything other than their dragon. His face was thoughtful as he inspected Snowfire. Then he said, everything from your pack, put it into the saddlebags, and tie the pack on top.Eragon did so while Brom mounted Snowfire.
Eragon gazed doubtfully at the bay. It was so much smaller than Saphira that for an absurd moment he wondered if it could bear his weight. With a sigh, he awkwardly got into the saddle. He had only ridden horses bareback and never for any distance. Is this going to do the same thing to my legs as riding Saphira?he asked.
do they feel now?
too bad, but I think any hard riding will open them up again.
’ll take it easy,promised Brom. He gave Eragon a few pointers, then 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. is that? he asked, pointing.
Brom did not look up, but said sadly and with bitterness, outpost of the Riders—one that has lasted since their founding. That was where Vrael took refuge, and where, through treachery, he was found and defeated by Galbatorix. When Vrael fell, this area was tainted. Edoc’sil, ‘Unconquerable,’ was the name of this bastion, for the mountain is so steep none may reach the top unless they can fly. After Vrael’s death the commoners called it Utgard, but it has another name, Ristvak’baen—the ‘Place of Sorrow.’ It was known as such to the last Riders before they were killed by the king.
Eragon stared with awe. Here was a tangible remnant of the Riders’ glory, tarnished though it was by the relentless pull of time. It struck him then just how old the Riders were. A legacy of tradition and heroism that stretched back to antiquity had fallen upon 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. 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.
He understood now why Brom had insisted on horses. It would have taken them weeks or months to cover that vast distance on foot. Far above he saw Saphira circling, high enough to be mistaken for a bird.
’ll wait until tomorrow to make the descent,said Brom. ’s going to take most of the day, so we should camp now.
far across is the plain?Eragon asked, still amazed.
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. As they unsaddled the horses, Brom gestured at the bay. should name him.
Eragon considered it as he picketed the bay. I don’t have anything as noble as Snowfire, but maybe this will do.He placed his hand on the bay and said, name you Cadoc. It was my grandfather’s name, so bear it well. Brom nodded in approval, but Eragon felt slightly foolish.
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, 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.
again,he complained. Brom just smiled and beckoned with one hand. Eragon reluctantly got to his feet. They whirled around in a flurry of smacking wood, and he backed away with a stinging arm.
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 threw down the stick in disgust and stalked away from the fire to nurse his injuries.
* * *
THUNDER ROAR AND LIGHTNING CRACKLE
The next morning Eragon avoided bringing to mind any of the recent events; they were too painful for him to consider. Instead, he focused his energies on figuring out how to find and kill the Ra’zac. I’ll do it with my bow, he decided, imagining how the cloaked figures would look with arrows sticking out of them. He had difficulty even standing up. His muscles cramped with the slightest movement, and one of his fingers was hot and swollen. When they were ready to leave, he mounted Cadoc and said acidly, this keeps up, you’re going to batter me to pieces.
wouldn’t push you so hard if I didn’t think you were strong enough.
once, I wouldn’t mind being thought less of,muttered Eragon.
Cadoc pranced nervously as Saphira approached. Saphira eyed the horse with something close to disgust and said, There’s nowhere to hide on the plains, so I’m not going to bother trying to stay out of sight. I’ll just fly above you from now on.
She took off, and they began the steep descent. In many places the trail all but disappeared, leaving them to find their own way down. At times they had to dismount and lead the horses on foot, holding on to trees to keep from falling down the slope. The ground was scattered with loose rocks, which made the footing treacherous. The ordeal left them hot and irritable, despite the cold.
They stopped to rest when they reached the bottom near midday. The Anora River veered to their left and flowed northward. A biting wind scoured the land, whipping them unmercifully. The soil was parched, and dirt flew into their eyes.
It unnerved Eragon how flat everything was; the plains were unbroken by hummocks or mounds. He had lived his entire life surrounded by mountains and hills. Without them he felt exposed and vulnerable, like a mouse under an eagle’s keen eye.
The trail split in three once it reached the plains. The first branch turned north, toward Ceunon, one of the greatest northern cities; the second one led straight across the plains; and the last went south. They examined all three for traces of the Ra’zac and eventually found their tracks, heading directly into the grasslands.
seems they’ve gone to Yazuac,said Brom with a perplexed air.
’s that?
east and four days away, if all goes well. It’s a small village situated by the Ninor River.He gestured at the Anora, which streamed away from them to the north. only supply of water is here. We’ll have to replenish our waterskins before attempting to cross the plains. There isn’t another pool or stream between here and Yazuac.
The excitement of the hunt began to rise within Eragon. In a few days, maybe less than a week, he would use his arrows to avenge Garrow’s death. And then He refused to think about what might happen afterward.
They filled the waterskins, watered the horses, and drank as much as they could from the river. Saphira joined them and took several gulps of water. Fortified, they turned eastward and started across the plains.
Eragon decided that it would be the wind that drove him crazy first. Everything that made him miserable—his chapped lips, parched tongue, and burning eyes—stemmed from it. The ceaseless gusting followed them throughout the day. Evening only strengthened the wind, instead of subduing it.
Since there was no shelter, they were forced to camp in the open. Eragon found some scrub brush, a short tough plant that thrived on harsh conditions, and pulled it up. He made a careful pile and tried to light it, but the woody stems only smoked and gave off a pungent smell. Frustrated, he tossed the tinderbox to Brom. can’t make it burn, especially with this blasted wind. See if you can get it going: otherwise dinner will be cold.
Brom knelt by the brush and looked at it critically. He rearranged a couple of branches, then struck the tinderbox, sending a cascade of sparks onto the plants. There was smoke, but nothing else. Brom scowled and tried again, but his luck was no better than Eragon’s. he swore angrily, striking the flint again. Flames suddenly appeared, and he stepped back with a pleased expression. we go. It must have been smoldering inside.
They sparred with mock swords while the food cooked. Fatigue made it hard on both of them, so they kept the session short. After they had eaten, they lay next to Saphira and slept, grateful for her shelter.
The same cold wind greeted them in the morning, sweeping over the dreadful flatness. Eragon’s lips had cracked during the night; every time he smiled or talked, beads of blood covered them. Licking them only made it worse. It was the same for Brom. They let the horses drink sparingly from their supply of water before mounting them. The day was a monotonous trek of endless plodding.
On the third day, Eragon woke well rested. That, coupled with the fact that the wind had stopped, put him in a cheery humor. His high spirits were dampened, however, when he saw the sky ahead of them was dark with thunderheads.
Brom looked at the clouds and grimaced. I wouldn’t go into a storm like that, but we’re in for a battering no matter what we do, so we might as well get some distance covered.
It was still calm when they reached the storm front. As they entered its shadow, Eragon looked up. The thundercloud had an exotic structure, forming a natural cathedral with a massive arched roof. With some imagination he could see pillars, windows, soaring tiers, and snarling gargoyles. It was a wild beauty.
As Eragon lowered his gaze, a giant ripple raced toward them through the grass, flattening it. It took him a second to realize that the wave was a tremendous blast of wind. Brom saw it too, and they hunched their shoulders, preparing for the storm.
The gale was almost upon them when Eragon had a horrible thought and twisted in his saddle, yelling, both with his voice and mind, Land! Brom’s face grew pale. Overhead, they saw her dive toward the ground. She’s not going to make it!
Saphira angled back the way they had come, to gain time. As they watched, the tempest’s wrath struck them like a hammer blow. Eragon gasped for breath and clenched the saddle as a frenzied howling filled his ears. Cadoc swayed and dug his hooves into the ground, mane snapping in the air. The wind tore at their clothes with invisible fingers while the air darkened with billowing clouds of dust.
Eragon squinted, searching for Saphira. He saw her land heavily and then crouch, clenching the ground with her talons. The wind reached her just as she started to fold her wings. With an angry yank, it unfurled them and dragged her into the air. For a moment she hung there, suspended by the storm’s force. Then it slammed her down on her back.
With a savage wrench, Eragon yanked Cadoc around and galloped back up the trail, goading the horse with both heels and mind. Saphira! he shouted. Try to stay on the ground. I’m coming! He felt a grim acknowledgment from her. As they neared Saphira, Cadoc balked, so Eragon leapt down and ran toward her.
His bow banged against his head. A strong gust pushed him off balance and he flew forward, landing on his chest. He skidded, then got back up with a snarl, ignoring the deep scrapes in his skin.
Saphira was only three yards away, but he could get no closer because of her flailing wings. She struggled to fold them against the overpowering gale. He rushed at her right wing, intending to hold it down, but the wind caught her and she somersaulted over him. The spines on her back missed his head by inches. Saphira clawed at the ground, trying to stay down.
Her wings began to lift again, but before they could flip her, Eragon threw himself at the left one. The wing crumpled in at the joints and Saphira tucked it firmly against her body. Eragon vaulted over her back and tumbled onto the other wing. Without warning it was blown upward, sending him sliding to ground. He broke his fall with a roll, then jumped up and grabbed the wing again. Saphira started to fold it, and he pushed with all of his strength. The wind battled with them for a second, but with one last surge they overcame it.
Eragon leaned against Saphira, panting. Are you all right? He could feel her trembling.
She took a moment to answer. I I think so. She sounded shaken. Nothing’s broken—I couldn’t do anything; the wind wouldn’t let me go. I was helpless. With a shudder, she fell silent.
He looked at her, concerned. Don’t worry, you’re safe now. He spotted Cadoc a ways off, standing with his back to the wind. With his mind, Eragon instructed the horse to return to Brom. He then got onto Saphira. She crept up the road, fighting the gale while he clung to her back and kept his head down.