Chapter XXV: Worry Over an Old Man

Istal loped into the campsite, as the fire continued casting shadows around the edges. I dismounted quickly before untacking Istal who shook himself and wandered towards the other horses – Tornac, Cadoc, and Snowfire. I looked over to where Murtagh is standing, next to Eragon funnily enough. I yawned, rubbing my eyes and wandered over to the two who were standing above Brom. It would be dawn in a few hours, and I hadn't gotten any sleep – the same went for Murtagh. Murtagh, who knew what he was doing with first aid unlike myself, had stayed at the camp and kept watch, while I had gone to do a check of the surroundings.

"Anything?" Murtagh called out, looking as exhausted as I was. I shook my head with a tired grin, "Good, we're safe."

"I'm not sure for how long," I replied before greeting Eragon. "I don't suppose you've helped Brom out?"

"I think I've managed to heal on the surface, I don't know enough to fix up whatever's damaged on the inside," Eragon told me, swaying on the spot.

"Murtagh, I don't suppose you can get the soup out? We're all about to keel over here, some warm food will do us well." I said.

Murtagh nodded and starting fixing a meal for the three of us. "Feeling alright Eragon?" I asked, and Eragon nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I suppose. Tired, dizzy, but I'm alive. And sore, can't forget that." I hummed in agreement.

"You've managed to get a wonderful bruise on your side," I told him helpfully, "You're lucky to not be coughing up blood."

"Who's he?" Eragon asked after a few seconds of silent, his voice low.

"Not sure, saw him earlier, he says he's an enemy to the Ra'zac and I needed the help, I haven't had a reason to doubt him yet."

"He has items of wealth but he doesn't seem wealthy."

I shrugged helplessly in reply. "A mystery," I murmured before taking a bowl from Murtagh and thanking him.

The three of us quickly ate, gulping down the hot broth with a frenzy that made us look energetic. "How long has it been since the Ra'zac fled?" Eragon finally asked when he finished.

"A few hours," Murtagh said softly.

"We need to move before they return with reinforcements."

"There isn't anyone approaching us from a kilometre or so out," I said helpfully.

"They can move quickly," Eragon countered.

"Either way, you may be able to travel but the old man can't. You don't get up and move after being stabbed between the ribs." Murtagh replied.

Eragon fell quiet for a few seconds, a glaze covering his eyes as he spoke to Saphira. After a minute he spoke up, "Saphira can carry him, but we need a litter. Can you both make one? I don't have the strength."

I sighed and drew my sword, "Yeah, yeah."

"Just wait here," Murtagh finished. "You see any ones that might be good earlier?" I shook my head silently, "I saw some earlier, we can use those ones then. Come on." 

We returned to camp with a sapling each and made a litter. Murtagh carefully tied Brom to the makeshift litter afterwards and Saphira grabbed it before taking off.

"I never thought I would see a sight like that," Murtagh said, his voice tinged with grief, fear and stunned awe. I frowned in thought, I could understand the stunned awe and the fear to a small degree, but why did Murtagh sound sad?

I whistled for Istal who came trotting out of the trees next to Tornac, the pair herding Cadoc and Snowfire as they did so. I saddled Cadoc quickly, before saddling Snowfire and using the grey stallion as a packhorse. Eragon limped over to Cadoc and mounted as I moved onto tacking up Istal. 

"Thanks for helping us Murtagh," Eragon said. "But you should leave now, ride as far away from us as you can. You'll be in danger if the Empire finds you with us. We can't protect you, and I wouldn't see harm come to you on our account. The same goes for you Umaroth."

I rolled my eyes and waited for Murtagh's response as he hid the signs of a fire. "A pretty speech, but where will you go? Is there a place nearby that you can rest in safety?"

"No," Eragon admitted.

"In that case, I think I'll accompany you until you're out of danger. I've no better place to be. Besides, if I stay with you I might get another shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were on my own. Interesting things are bound to happen around a Rider." Murtagh said, eyes glinting in the darkness as he fingered the hilt of his sword.

"You can be damned sure you aren't getting rid of me either. Even if you take off on Saphira and fly to the ends of the land. Istal and I will follow you no matter what. You can be certain of that. If anything were to happen we would hold ourselves responsible." Plus, I thought to myself, I have no doubt that the dragon in my dreams has a destiny entwined with yours.

Eragon looked at me seeming confused, I suppose that was understandable. After all, there was no reason for my loyalty to him. "Join us if you wish," he ended up saying.

I swung myself into the saddle, while Istal tossed his head and nickered. I'm so tired, he told me.

I am too, but we must continue on. I have no doubt we wouldn't want to be caught by any chasing Eragon, I replied. Istal blew out a sigh and I tied Snowfire's reins onto my saddle. Eragon sent Cadoc off trotting, grimacing with each bounce before urging the horse into a canter. Istal sighed tiredly, having been moving around for hours on end without much of a break. Murtagh mounted his dapple-grey horse and cantered after us.

Dawn was nearing when Eragon told us we were nearing a place to stop and rest. Two kilometres later, we found Saphira sitting at the base of a broad sandstone formation that curved out of the ground like a great hill. Its sides were pocked with caves of varying sizes. Similar domes were scattered across the land. Saphira was looking smugly pleased as she looked at us.

Eragon looked like he was in pain as Saphira turned to start climbing up the sandstone. "Saphira, wait," I called out turning to look at Eragon. "Can you take Eragon up with you first? He's in no shape to help get the horses up the sandstone," I said.

Saphira nodded and Eragon looked like he was about to protest when Saphira glared at him. Eragon sighed and dismounted, wincing as he did so. Murtagh grabbed Cadoc's reins and we looked at the climb up. I can force the others up if needed, Istal said, Cadoc and Snowfire have accepted me to be the leader of their herd.

Istal shook and tensed, preparing to tackle the climb. You are so humble, Istal tossed his head with a whinny and leapt up, before trying his hardest to climb. The hooves of all the horses couldn't get a grip on the sandstone and Istal was at the back bearing his teeth and forcing Cadoc and Snowfire up. Murtagh walked next to be, forcing the horses upwards. After an hour, we managed to reach the cave.

The cavern was roughly 30 metres long and more than 6 metres wide, yet it had a small opening that would protect us from bad weather and prying eyes. The far end was in darkness, the walls hidden from sight but clearly there.

Murtagh whistled, "Impressive," he muttered. "I'll gather wood for a fire."

"I'll settle the horses," I replied, knowing that unless they were tied they were most likely to wander out of the cave. After rubbing the horses down and giving them water, the fire was lit and the others ate. We tried to give Brom some water but the old man wouldn't drink. A few minutes later, I ate and Saphira took guard as we all went to sleep. Istal lying down beside me, serving as a pillow.

I woke up suddenly, a clamour gaining my attention. I sat up, looking around in panic. Eragon was rummaging through Brom's saddlebags looking frantic while Murtagh looked mildly worried and Brom stared up at the ceiling.

I got up quickly, hurrying over to the trio. "I have the wine," Eragon muttered, kneeling next to Brom. Murtagh backed away to the entrance of the cave, giving us privacy.

"Good," Brom said faintly, "Now... wash my right hand with it." Eragon started to ask a question but Brom stopped him with a sharp command of asking none and a mutter of having no time. Eragon looked confused as he rubbed wine into Brom's hand. "More," Brom croaked, Eragon scrubbed harder and brown dye floated off Brom's palm.

I peeked over Eragon's shoulder and gazed at the gedwëy ignasia in understanding and wonder. "You're a Rider?" Eragon asked disbelievingly.

A painful, sad smile flickered on Brom's face. "Once upon a time that was true... but no more. When I was young... younger than you are now, I was chosen... chosen by the Riders to join their ranks. While they trained me... I became friends with another apprentice... Morzan, before he was a Forsworn." Eragon gasped here and I found myself stunned - that had been over a hundred years ago. "But then he betrayed us to Galbatorix... and in the fighting at Dorú Areaba – Vroengard's city – my young dragon was... was killed. Her name was... was Saphira."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Eragon asked softly.

Brom laughed, which quickly made him start gasping for breath and grimacing in pain. "Because... there was no need to," here he paused, his face pale, breathing laboured and hands clenched. 

"I am old, Eragon... so old. Though my dragon was killed, my life has been longer than most. You... You don't know what it is to reach my age, look back, and realise... realise you don't remember much of it; then to look forward... and know that many years still lie ahead of you... After all this time I still grieve for my Saphira... and hate Galbatorix for what he tore from me." Brom's glazed, feverish eyes stared at Eragon and I felt like I was intruding on a personal moment for the pair. "Don't let that happen to you. Don't!" Brom said fiercely, "Guard Saphira with your life, for without her it's hardly worth living."

"You shouldn't talk like this," Eragon said, sounding worried. "Nothing's going to happen to her, nothing."

"Perhaps... Perhaps I am rambling," Brom muttered, turning his head to the side. "Eragon!" He suddenly called, his gaze looking on said person. "I cannot last much longer. This... is a grievous wound; it saps my strength. I have not... the energy to fight it... Before I go, will you take my blessing?"

My eyes were feeling watery as I stared at Brom, the man who had taught me so much and become like a family member. "Everything will be all right," Eragon said, his eyes wide and voice cracking. "You don't have to do this."

"It is the way of things... I must. Will you take my blessing?" Eragon bowed his head in response and nodded. I turned my back on the pair, feeling like this was a moment I shouldn't be seeing. Istal was standing behind me, he snorted softly, and I rubbed his forehead in response. I suddenly felt old, weary and hopeless, but hopeful as well.

When I heard Brom's voice die down I turned back around, Istal standing beside me and we looked down on the great man, he who had once been a Dragon Rider. "Umaroth," the old man muttered, eyes locking on mine. "There is much for you to learn... and I have a feeling you will become something I never would guess..." Eragon took a step back and I knelt down next to Brom. "I worry... worry over Eragon's journey and I... sometimes think that Saphira and he may fail... Help them... whatever you must, just... do it."

I reached out with my mind, Istal's mind instantly joining mine as we reached into the old man's mind. I could feel his grief, worry, sadness, joy, pain, and fear for Eragon and Saphira. The image of a purple dragon came to mind, the great being roaring and her eyes shining with intelligence. I let Brom see the image. Eragon is not as alone as we believe... There is something out there, and it shall look after us. There will be peace, and you are the one who began it all, I told the old man, I could feel Brom grasping at the edges of the image.

So... there is hope for all after all, be safe Umaroth. For you see what those do not... Don't become blind. Always... always, continue seeing. Brom mumbled before turning his eyes to the ceiling, but I had a feeling he wasn't seeing anything.

"And now," Brom murmured, "for the greatest adventure of all..." Eragon held Brom's hands, weeping and I turned around.

Istal followed me, his sadness not as great as mine, but still there. Murtagh and I stood, looking outside the cave.

With shaking fingers, Eragon closed Brom's eyes and stood. Saphira raised her head behind him and roared mournfully at the sky. I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer that Brom's soul would rest in peace. "We have to bury him," Eragon said haltingly, tears rolling down his face.

"We might be seen," Murtagh warned, but his eyes showed he understood.

"I don't think any of us will care," I replied, moving to grab Brom's body. In my arms, Brom felt weak and lifeless, it was unusual, and I felt wretched remembering the life the man seemed to carry with him.

"To the top," Eragon said as Murtagh picked up Brom's sword and staff.

"We can't dig a grave out of stone," Murtagh said.

"I can do it," Eragon replied thickly.

I followed Eragon up the smooth hilltop, upon reaching the top I lay Brom on the stone. Eragon wiped his eyes before gesturing with his hand. "Moi stenr!" Stone, change, I translated mentally. The stone rippled and moved like water, forming a body-length depression in the hilltop. Eragon made the sandstone like wet clay, and raised waist-high walls around the ditch. I laid Brom in the unfinished sandstone vault gently, Murtagh placing Brom's staff and sword down. Stepping back, we watched in awe as Eragon shaped the stone with magic. It melded over Brom's motionless face and flowed upward into a tall faceted spire. As a final tribute, Eragon set runes into the stone:

Here Lies Brom

Who was a Dragon Rider
And held a thousand secrets
And understood the mysteries of our world
And like a father
To me.
May his name live on in glory.

Eragon added the third and fourth lines for me before he bowed his head and mourned. I stood next to him, staying with him until the light faded from the sky and it was evening.

Brom in the picture