The moment Eragon's blade met the Ra'zac, he knew that these two Ra'zac were not nearly as skilled as the ones he had faced before. Though the Ra'zac did not roam the land of Alagaësia when he had previously been here, he had encountered their kind before during his travels. Eragon twisted away as the other Ra'zac closed in, the blade missing him by inches. Roran bellowed out a yell, his hammer swinging towards the Ra'zac Eragon had crossed blades with.
Leaving the other Ra'zac to Roran, Eragon widened his stance, his eyes carefully tracking the Ra'zac. The twisted creature slinked closer, its foul stench nearly causing Eragon to gag. A cry rang out from the Ra'zac and Eragon parried the incoming blow with ease, his sword scoring a hit against the creature's side as it shied away from him.
The sounds of Saphira's fight echoed around the cave, though he did not allow himself to look away from his own battle. By the feel of Saphira's mind, and the lack of pain radiating throughout his own body, he knew that both his wards and Saphira's own skill lend itself to her avoiding any injury so far. The Ra'zac clicked at him, charging forward once more.
Eragon dodged the swiping blow, holding up a hand and whispered, "Garjzla."
Though a simple spell, the light blinded his opponent, and Eragon closed in quickly as it raised its sword in a crude form of defense. He slipped past its guard with ease, Brisingr sliding in deep into the hollow chest of the Ra'zac. The creature froze for a moment, and beneath its hood Eragon watched as a long narrow beak emerged. The Ra'zac attempted to peck at his head with it, but Eragon tightened his grip on Brisingr and pulled.
The blade came free with a squelch¸ and the Ra'zac stumbled off balance. With a movement that was too fast for the Ra'zac to track, Eragon beheaded the monster that haunted humanity since before they ever set foot in Alagaësia. Eragon gave himself no time to admire his own kill, turning to face Roran as his cousin continued his own fight.
Roran wielded a shield with surprising efficiency, blocking each of the blow the Ra'zac attempted to land. Though Roran was not as quick as them, he was able to dissuade the creature from getting too close with his hammer. Before he could get in close to aid Roran, however, a sharp cry from one of the Lethrblaka drew all the attention.
A broken, twisted body flew past Eragon, striking the wall hard. The Lethrblaka did not stir, both its wings and chest broken by Saphira's throw. Her maw was dripping with the strange colored blood, and the remaining Lethrblaka tried to tackle her.
Alone, however, the creature did not stand a chance against Saphira. The Lethrblaka bulk did nothing to Saphira, who merely twisted her head around and grabbed at the closest wing. She shook her head, and Eragon heard the loud crack that was the Lethrblaka's wing as it broke.
Roran let out a curse as the remaining Ra'zac shied away from him as he stumbled from its blow. The Ra'zac turned and fled down one of the tunnels, its form disappearing into the dark as quickly as it had emerged. Quick as an elf Eragon chased after it, calling out to Roran, "If you can, follow! It intends to use the others as hostages!"
Roran let out another curse as he righted himself, and Eragon casted his mind out to the cell. Though he could not detect the Ra'zac, he could at least stop its intent. With a quick spell, Eragon sealed off the cell, allowing none but Roran and himself to open them. With a glance at Saphira, who did not stop her fight with the Lethrblaka, Eragon continued down the tunnel.
The tunnel was dark, and Roran mumbled a curse as he tripped. "Blast this infernal darkness!" Roran cried out, though his words were no louder than a whisper. "How can you see anything? Can you not make a light for us?"
Eragon made to shake his head but stopped when he realized Roran would not be able to see it. "No," Eragon murmured instead, "They will not approach the light, but I think I have a solution."
He casted a spell over Roran, which caused the young man to swear as his vision was restored. "What did you do?" Roran said, as they continued forward.
"Casted a spell that amplifies the light your eyes receive. It will stop working if there is a bright enough light, since I do not want you to go blind."
"Right," Roran said, "Thanks."
Eragon grunted his reply, his eyes sweeping across the tunnel as they moved. Roran positioned himself slightly behind Eragon, his shield and hammer held up high. They continued for minutes, and the sounds of Saphira's battle died down the further they continued.
When the sounds had all but faded, leaving nothing but Roran's breath clouding his ears, Eragon felt Saphira's mind press into his. The Lethrblaka is dead.
Good, Eragon said, any injuries?
He felt Saphira sniff in indignation through their bond, which managed to rouse a small smirk in Eragon despite their situation. Of course not. As if such disgusting creatures could even stand a chance against a dragon such as I.
Of course, partner-of-my-heart, Eragon murmured, I never doubted your abilities for a moment.
Saphira rumbled in his mind, pleased with his words. I cannot follow you in the tunnel, little-one.
I know.
She remained in the back of his mind, and with an unspoken agreement Eragon saw through her own eyes as she watched the tunnels for the Ra'zac. Eragon doubted it would approach her alone, for the Ra'zac stood no chance against her.
The tunnel continued for some time, leading them deeper into the mountain. At times it sloped steeply downward, twisting, and turning as it went. Occasionally the tunnel split off into multiple directions, and Eragon had to use the Katrina's mind to guide him forward.
When they approached the cells, Eragon held up a hand to Roran. His cousin paused at the movement, and Eragon could see the young man strain against himself. Speaking into Roran's mind, Eragon said, these are the cells that contain their prisoners. Katrina is in the one to the right.
Should we let her out? Roran questioned. If we do, and the Ra'zac attacks… We should wait till the creature is dead and gone.
Eragon pondered for a moment, letting his mind run over the various scenarios. After a moment, he replied, I think it would be best if we did it now. I cannot sense the Ra'zac, so we do not know if it will attack, but we also do not know if it has managed to flee. I can place wards around Katrina to protect her until it does.
Roran nodded and moved forwards towards the cell. Eragon peered around the darkness, his ears listening intently for any sounds as his cousin reached the door. Casting a spell, Eragon examined each of the cell doors, checking for any hidden traps. When his search turned up for naught, Eragon nodded to Roran to proceed.
His cousin let out a bellow, raising his hammer as he rained down blows on the door hinge. Eragon made to stop him, but decided it was better to let the man do this for himself. He approached the other doors slowly, opening each of them in turn with a quick spell.
The first cell contained nothing but black chains and rotting bones, so with a sad thought Eragon closed the door. The following two rooms were just as empty, but when Eragon opened the fourth he paused.
A man sat slumped against the wall, his arms hanging from the chains that bind him. The man was shriveled from starvation, his blue veins prominent against the bones of his body. Blood used from the man's wrists, though some of it was clearly dried and old. Ragged and dirty clothing was barely noticeable on the decrepit man, and Eragon approached the form slowly.
The ring of Roran's hammer roused the man, and with horror Eragon realized the Ra'zac had pecked out the man's eyes. "Who is there? What do you want?"
Slowly Eragon continued forward, his steps silent as the man continued to yell. "I told you everything I know! What more can I give you that you have not already taken from me?!"
Eragon slipped into the man's mind, watching as the man flinched from the intrusion. He did not know who he was, but he was careful as he examined the prisoner's mind. Memories flowed past him quickly, and a name popped out to him just as suddenly.
Sloan.
Frowning, Eragon examined Sloan's mind, watching as images of Katrina, who Eragon only recognized from Roran's own memories, continued to rise.
Katrina's father, Eragon murmured to Saphira, who watched the memories through Eragon.
What do you want to do with him? From what Roran has told us, Sloan was not a good man.
Hmm. Eragon said, raising a hand above Sloan's head.
"Slytha." Eragon said, and the man slumped over into sleep.
It is not my decision to make, but we cannot leave him here.
And if Roran wants to kill him? Saphira asked, though he could tell she did not truly care what happened to man.
Then I will do it myself. I would not place that on Roran, and I do not know how Katrina would react to him killing her father.
The sound of metal snapping drew Eragon away from the man, and he turned to find Roran dropping his hammer and shield as he moved to charge at the door. At the last moment seemed to think better of it, instead trying to lift the door from its frame. When it refused to budge more than an inch, Eragon moved to help.
Roran cursed as he stopped pressing against the door, turning to Eragon. "Give me a hand here, I do not want it to fall on her."
Eragon nodded, striding up to the door to stand next to Roran. "What was in there?" Roran asked.
"Sloan." Eragon said, watching Roran's face carefully.
A mixture of emotions passed over the man's face quickly, and Eragon saw flashes of anger and pain as well. "And?"
"He's alive."
Roran swore loudly, and Eragon glanced around them to make sure the Ra'zac wasn't going to attack while his cousin was distracted. Finding nothing, Eragon placed a hand on Roran's shoulder, stopping him from entering Sloan's cell.
"Not now. Let us free Katrina, and then you can deal with him."
"I will kill him," Roran whispered angrily, though he did not go against Eragon's words.
Instead, the two of them gripped the door tightly and lifted. Though Eragon did most of the work, as his strength was far greater than Roran's, they still managed to remove the door from its frame. With a heave they threw the door down in the hallway, the weight of it striking the uneven floor loudly. The sound echoed down the hallway, the resounding boom continuing as it made it was down the tunnel.
No way the Ra'zac missed that sound, Eragon thought.
Roran charged into the cell before Eragon could speak. The cell was dim, lit only by a small wax candle. Katrina was cowering on the lone cot, made completely of rusted iron.
She cried out as they approached, unable to see their forms. "Leave me alone you toothless bastards! I—" Her words stopped as Roran continued forward, and Eragon took a moment to look over her condition.
Her skin was completely pale, streaked through with dirt and grime, though Eragon did not see any wounds visible on her form. Chains bounded her ankles, restricting her movements around the cell. She stood as Roran approached, her face slack with awe. With a shaking hand, Katrina touched Roran's cheek, whispering, "You came."
"I came."
Roran let out a sob, and gripped Katrina tight in an embrace. For a moment Eragon worried Roran would squeeze what little strength Katrina had out of her, but Katrina did not protest.
After a moment Roran drew back, and when he saw them kiss Eragon turned his head away. He did not want to intrude on such a moment, though their words were still easily audible to him.
"You grew a beard!" Katrina exclaimed, drawing a chuckle from Eragon. It was not exactly what he expected someone to say in her position, and the exclamation made Eragon like her more.
His chuckle made Katrina aware that they were not alone, and she jumped back as she took in him in. Her face was a mix of puzzlement and fear, but Roran tightened his grip on her to assuage her worry.
"Who-o are you?" Her words, though stuttering, held a certain strength that Eragon found admirable.
"This is Eragon," Roran introduced, and Eragon bowed to her.
She seemed taken back at his courteous display and attempted to curtsy back at him. "Eragon Shadeslayer, Dragon Rider of Saphira and Leader of the Order. Roran has told me a great deal about you, Katrina, and it a pleasure to meet you."
"Hopefully he hasn't told you too much," Katrina said, which made Roran blush and Eragon laugh briefly. If she was willing to make such a comment, even after all she had endured, Eragon knew that she was strong-willed enough for Roran.
Roran attempted to protest, though quickly covered it up with a cough. "We should get moving. We need to get out of Helgrind before half of the empire descends on us."
Katrina nodded her head, though her curious gaze still lingered on Eragon's features. She took in his sharply tipped ears and elven features, though she did not comment as most would have.
Katrina stepped forward, showing the two men the manacles that restricted her movements. "Do you have the key?"
Roran shook his head, but Eragon stepped forward and kneeled before her. "Do not be alarmed," Eragon warned, before pointing his finger at the bands of metal, "Jierda."
The metal snapped cleanly apart, and Katrina jumped in surprise. "Magic…" she whispered.
She shrank back as he stood. "A simple spell." Eragon paused for a moment, meeting Roran's eyes. "I need to examine you, Katrina, and make sure that Galbatorix or one of his magicians hasn't enchanted you."
Roran protested loudly, "Do we really have the time? Can we not do this when we make camp?"
"No," Eragon said firmly.
Roran scowled, though he did not attempt to argue further. Eragon approached Katrina slowly, holding his hands up to show her he meant no harm. "Forgive me, but I need to do this. It will not hurt a bit, and I promise you it will be over before you know it."
Katrina was clearly apprehensive about him, looking to Roran in an unasked question. Roran continued to scowl, his arms crossed, but nodded his head at her. "It's alright. I trust him. He is the one who led us here."
Taking in a deep breath, Katrina turned her gaze back to Eragon and met his eyes. After a moment she slowly nodded, "Okay."
Speaking softly in the ancient language, Eragon placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped at the contact but did not shy away from him as before. He used all manner of spells to examine her, both physically -and with her permission- mentally, searching her memories to see if they were tampered with.
For minutes they stood locked together, with Eragon gazing into her eyes as he searched. Roran picked up his hammer, twirling it impatiently near the door. Occasionally he would see Roran peer out into the hallway, keeping an eye out for the remaining Ra'zac.
Eragon stopped the flow of spells, stepping back from Katrina. "Nothing but your own thoughts. There are no spells that have been place on you."
Katrina's features relaxed, and it was only then that Eragon noticed how tense she was since he started his examination.
"There was never any question that she was fine," Roran growled, wrapping his arms around her.
Eragon sighed but did not argue with the man. Turning to Roran, he said, "Cover your eyes for a moment, I'm going to cast a spell to light out way."
Roran seemed confused for a moment, before seeming to remember the spell Eragon had casted before. He shielded his eyes with his hands, as did Katrina.
With a murmur Eragon summoned a werelight, the soft blue turned low to not affect Katrina that deeply. She had been encased in the darkness of the cell for some time, and Eragon knew how terribly bright light could hurt when first exposed.
When Roran and Katrina seemed adjusted to the light, Eragon stepped lightly out of the cell room. From behind him, Katrina finally asked, "What of my father? Do you know anything about him?"
Roran froze, as though suddenly remembering that Sloan was still alive. Turning around, Eragon eyed the man lightly as he spoke, "Sloan is alive," Eragon answered, pointing over his shoulder to the cell.
"Oh," Katrina said, her voice quiet.
Roran growled, letting go of Katrina and gripping his hammer tight. His cousin bounded forwards towards the cell, but Katrina's hand on his shoulder stopped his movement.
Roran stopped his trek across the hallway, letting out an angry growl as he said, "Let me go. He should pay for what he did."
Katrina's face twisted, tears shining in her eyes. "No, please. He did not have a choice!"
"Choice?" Roran exclaimed, turning around sharply, though Eragon sensed his frustration was not intended towards Katrina. "Of course, he had a choice! He sold us out! He sold you out!"
Shaking her head side to side, Katrina cried out, "But that doesn't mean he deserves death!"
"Death would be a blessing to one like him."
"You can't kill him, please Roran. For me," Katrina said, pulling against Roran's shoulder.
For a moment Roran seemed to debate against himself, the war clearly visible on his face. "Any lawgiver would sentence him to death. That much is clear."
"But that doesn't mean you have to be the one to kill him!" Katrina cried out. "And he is my only family still left. Please, don't do this."
"If he is to be sentenced to death," Eragon said quietly, "Then I will do it."
Roran and Katrina turned to him in surprise, seeming to forget he was still there. If it were any other situation, Eragon would have been miffed. Letting it slide past, Eragon approached Sloan's door. "I know this isn't the most ideal situation, but we cannot linger here."
"You cannot ask me to sentence my own father to death," Katrina said, her voice shaking. Her face seemed to become even paler at the thought, and he saw her whole-body tremble.
"You won't," Roran said suddenly, surprising Eragon with the softness that encapsulated his words. "And neither will I. But Eragon can be the judge of that."
Eragon grimaced lightly. "It is not my place to judge humans. I am the Leader of the Dragon Riders, and I can only judge Rider's actions. It would be gross misstep of justice for me to do so. Killing a man because he was sentenced is one thing, but to do the sentencing myself would make me closer to Galbatorix then I would like."
"Not if we say you can," Roran argued. "You are the only one here with the right to judge someone for their actions."
"Judging humans is not what the Riders were meant to do," Eragon explained. "I would be stepping over into territory that is not mine, and there is a slippery slope that awaits."
"You are the Leader of the Riders, are you not? Do they not judge their own kind?"
"We judge Riders, not the other races!" Eragon exclaimed, his frustration rising.
"But you are human," Roran countered. "Despite your features, you are apart of our race. I understand your worry, but if Katrina will not let me do it myself, then it must fall upon you."
"I don't like this," Eragon stated. "What would stop me in the future from doing something like this again?"
"Because you are aware of the responsibility that you hold," Roran stated. "Which is more to say then others. And it would be within Katrina's right to give you say over Sloan's actions."
Eragon turned to Katrina, watching her features carefully as she gazed at him. Something in his features must have convinced her, for she suddenly nodded, her eyes downcast. "I give you permission, Eragon Shadeslayer, to judge the actions of my father Sloan, and to sentence him as you see fit."
Damn it.
Scowling, Eragon turned to Saphira in his mind. What do you think?
Does it both you to judge someone so?
If I judge someone now, what stops me from judging others in the future? I will not become like Galbatorix, deciding who lives and who dies. Eragon stated.
The fact that you are aware of the power you wield, and that you would do so cautiously is enough to satisfy me.
He let her words wash over him, echoing Roran's own. This isn't the time to have a trial.
No. She paused, seeming to understand his intentions, you do not intend to...
I must. And the Ra'zac is still a concern.
She growled at him in his mind, and for moment Eragon believed he could hear her through the tunnels. I do not like this.
Me neither. Eragon admitted. But it is the best course of action. Katrina and Roran cannot stay in the Empire for too much longer, and I will be able to move quickly by myself.
As Saphira's emotions wared inside her, Eragon stepped up to the cell door containing Sloan. With a spell he sealed the door, turning to Katrina and Roran. "Come, let us go."
Roran blinked at him, his eyes moving from the cell door to Eragon quickly. "And what of Sloan?"
"I will judge him when the time is right. For now, we need to get the two of you out of here," Eragon explained. Roran was the first to nod, though Katrina eventually granted him one too after a moment of hesitation.
He casted a glance around, making sure the way was clear before leading the two of them back the way he came. The werelight floated along merrily, dipping, and bobbing as it rose and fell with the uneven floor.
Eragon warded Katrina as they walked, refreshing the wards around himself and Roran as he went. The whole way back he kept a warry eye on their surroundings, but he did not find any trace of the Ra'zac. Behind him, Katrina and Roran murmured softly together, exchanging words of affection that Eragon tried to block out.
Do you agree with my plan or not? Eragon asked Saphira after a while.
Another growl met his ears, at least take Glaedr with you.
How? Eragon argued, though he kept his words soft, I cannot carry him in the saddlebag. It's far to big for me to run with.
Silence met him for a moment, before Saphira's voice came in low. We have not been separated in decades, little-one. I do not wish to be separated from you now.
I know, Eragon whispered, letting his emotions meld with Saphira's. He felt her sadness at the thought of separating, and he let his own reflect at her. But this is something I must do. Both for Roran, and for Alagaësia. The last Ra'zac cannot be allowed to roam free under Galbatorix's control.
Saphira said nothing, her mind retreating from his own.
Letting out a sigh, Eragon continued to lead them through the tunnel.
"Something wrong?" Roran asked as they continued down, surprising Eragon. He thought his cousin too busy with Katrina, but it seemed he at least kept vigil about their situation.
"Nothing yet," Eragon answered. "Just talking with Saphira."
"Who?" Katrina asked, turning her head back and forth as though searching for someone.
"His dragon," Roran shrugged. "She speaks through her mind right into yours. You get used to it after a while."
"Through her-." Katrina began to say, but her words fell away as they followed the tunnel around the bend, revealing the large entrance in the distance.
Saphira was standing before the opening with her head low before it, blocking their view of the rest of the chamber. She snorted when she saw them, backing away from the tunnel. Katrina gasped as she finally caught sight of Saphira's true size, her fingers clinging to Roran's arm tightly.
When they emerged from the tunnel, Eragon stood in front of Saphira and turned to Katrina. "Allow me to introduce you, Katrina. This is Saphira, and I am her Rider. She can understand you if you speak."
Katrina managed a curtsy, though Saphira gave her nothing but a quick appraisal. "It is an honor, O dragon."
Saphira inclined her head to the woman before turning to gaze fiercely at Eragon. I searched the Lethrblaka's nest, but all I found was bones and the smell of fresh meat.
Fresh? They must have just feasted then…
Slaves? Saphira guessed.
Maybe, Eragon considered, or prisoners. There's nothing for us to do for them now, though.
Saphira growled her acknowledgement, and Eragon gestured to Katrina and Roran. "Go ahead and climb on her back. The safest place right now is with her."
Katrina hesitated, turning to Roran for reassurance. The young man nodded his head, murmuring, "It's alright. Saphira brought us here."
Saphira crouched down flat, the scales of her belly digging into the sharp rock below. Though she was able to lower herself to aid them in their climb, Saphira's height was still great enough that Roran needed to pull Katrina up from Saphira's foreleg. After a precarious moment in which Eragon thought Katrina would fall, the woman grasped onto Saphira's saddle and used it as a ladder to finish her climb. Roran settled in behind her, though his gaze remained locked onto the tunnels still yet unexplored. The Ra'zac was still out there, but Eragon figured it would be unlikely to attack now that they were with Saphira.
Eragon looked over Saphira for any wounds, ignoring her indignation at his examination. I'm fine, little-one.
If we are to travel separately, I will not be able to heal you. Better I take care of these wounds now.
Saphira growled at him, though he mostly ignored her as he went about closing the wounds on her side. Her forelegs were coated in the Lethrblaka's blood, and Eragon could still see some bits of flesh dangling from her teeth. Her wounds were not severe enough that Eragon had to spend too much time on them, though she protested each of them as he went along.
Have Arya or Glenwing look them over when you get back. Eragon said to her, his hand trailing over her scales softly.
I would not need to if you came with me. Her head was twisted around to her side, watching him closely as he healed a long tear in the membrane of her wing.
I must do this.
Saphira's lip curled up, her gleaming teeth on display. It nearly made Eragon shiver, and he could feel her desire to grab hold of him and fly away on display. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
Neither do I, but this is the hand fate has dealt us. Roran and Katrina wish for me to judge Sloan, and the last Ra'zac cannot remain free. You know this.
I do.
They were silent for the rest of his healing, though Saphira did force him to use her strength instead of his own, arguing that he would need it more then she would.
When he was finished, Eragon grabbed one of the smaller saddle bags from Saphira's saddle. He stepped back so that Katrina and Roran could see him, using the straps of the bag to secure it to his back. "Saphira will take you to the Varden. Let her explain everything to Nasuada and the others, but make sure that a healer looks at the both of you."
Roran looked at him in confusion, his face twisting with worry. "You are not coming?"
"You asked me to judge Sloan, and I have to find the Ra'zac. I cannot do both if I am worrying over the two of you. Saphira will protect you." Eragon said. Saphira was staring at him, her tail lashing back and forth in her ire.
"How will you get out of the Empire?" Katrina asked solemnly.
"I can run faster than any horse, and it will be easy enough for me to move alone." Eragon turned to Saphira, waving his hands at her. "Gánga! I will be fine."
Saphira growled at him again, and her tail struck the side of the cavern. The force of the blow rattled his teeth, and it was only the hard press of her talon against his chest that drew him back to reality. One week. Then I come for you, and not even Galbatorix and his hoard will be able to stop me.
Eragon shivered again, nodding his head. He placed his hand on her talon, even soaked in blood as it was. I promise I will be fine.
Arya told you not to be reckless. I think this fits that description perfectly.
Eragon grimaced at the mention of the elf. She will understand why I did it.
Doesn't mean she will like it. Her talon lowered, clicking against the harsh rocks of the cavern. And neither do I.
"Go."
Her misery at the situation flowed into him, and Eragon nearly gasped at the sensation. His own anguished added to the mix, and Eragon backed away from Saphira as she turned around. With a leap Saphira launched herself from the cavern, and Eragon briefly could hear Katrina's shriek before it was drowned out by the sound of Saphira's wings.
The sight of her flying away from him tore at him, though he did admire her beauty. For decades she had been by his side, never having separated. Though they would occasionally venture far enough to lose contact with one another, it had been centuries since they had been far enough away that even the part of her that resided in the back of his mind receded.
Brilliant blue scales sparkled with light as Saphira winged herself away from him, and Eragon pulled Brisingr from his hip.
Eragon lost count of how long he stood with Brisingr hanging low at his side. The only sounds around him was the stirring of air from the entrance, the breeze the only relief from the rotten stench of the Ra'zac lair. A werelight floated nearby, the light low but enough for him to see, though it gave him no warmth from the chill that permeated Helgrind.
There was a subtle shift in the air, and Eragon knew the Ra'zac was there.
"Took you long enough," Eragon said, though he did not raise Brisingr at the creature.
The Ra'zac emerged from one of the tunnels, and Eragon could see blood dripping from the creature's robes. "My master does not want me to kill you," it hissed.
"How nice," Eragon replied. "I assume you think otherwise?"
"Yess. The Black King will deal with you as he sees fit. He has more heartsss then you."
Eragon smirked. "I know that already."
The Ra'zac ignored his remark, its hooded face gazing past him down to another tunnel. "She was my hatchmate, and you killed her, Rider."
Eragon shrugged at the creature. "It was that or die. I have too much to do, too many people relying on me."
"Will you make a pact with me, Shadeslayer?"
Eragon frowned. "What sort of pact?"
"I am the lassst of my race, Shadeslayer. We are ancient, and I would not have us forgotten. Would you, in your songsss and in your hissstories, remind the humans of the terror we inssspired in them? Remember us as fear!" it hissed.
"Why would I do that?" Eragon replied, his hand tightening on Brisingr.
The Ra'zac tucked its beak against its narrow chest, clucking and chittering to itself briefly. "Because I will tell you sssomething. A ssecret."
"Then tell me or die." Eragon stated, his voice hard.
"Give me your word, Shadeslayer."
"That I won't kill you? Or the one about the stories?"
"The sstoriess."
Eragon was silent for a moment, weighing the options before him. "I will only tell the truth of your species, that much I can promise."
The creature stared at him for some time, before clicking at him. He did not know what the sounds indicated, but it seemed slightly disappointed by his reply. "He has almossst found the name."
His brows furrowed at the Ra'zac, his mind racing. Galbatorix almost found the name?
"The name of what?" Eragon asked.
The Ra'zac hissed at him, showing for the first time a hint of frustration. "I cannot tell you! The name! The true name!"
The true name? Eragon tapped the flat part of Brisingr's blade against the side of his leg as he thought. Which true name? Mine? No, that would be unlikely, even for him. He couldn't possibly know enough about me or Saphira to guess it, even with Murtagh's help. Galbatorix seeks control, which a true name would provide him. But control over what? All Alagaësia? Is that it, the true name of the land?
After a moment of thought, Eragon casted it aside. No, the if there is a true name of Alagaësia, it would be too long and too complicated to know. It would constantly change, and how would you even describe it? The borders of Alagaësia are a construct of our own making and could change depending on who you asked.
What else would give Galbatorix the control he seeks? What possible combination of words in the ancient language would be enough to satisfy him?
A thought occurred to him then, one so terrible that he nearly shuddered in front of the Ra'zac. He managed to school his features, lest he show the creature some form of weakness.
"The name of the ancient language," Eragon whispered to himself.
The Ra'zac heard his words, hissing at him. "Yesss."
Eragon's eyes widened with disbelief. "If he discovered the name of names, it would spell doom for the rest of Alagaësia. All of magic would be useless against him, and he would be able to control everything with but a word."
"Now you ssee what ssstands before you, and how hopelessss it iss," the Ra'zac cackled. Its beak clicked several times, as though satisfied with the terror that was beginning to course through him.
Steeling himself, Eragon pushed the thought aside for later. "You have fulfilled your half of the pack, creature, so let us get on with it."
"Yess."
The Ra'zac swept back its ragged cloak, and Eragon watched as it pulled out a bow. As the Ra'zac drew the string back, Eragon widened his stance and held Brisingr up in front of him. The creature fired the bolt, its aim true as it flew right at his chest.
With ease, Eragon batted the arrow aside, watching as the Ra'zac stooped in front of him. It placed the bow down on the ground, straightened its cowl, and slowly withdrew its leaf-bladed sword from its robes. Before it could completely withdraw its sword, Eragon lunged forward, Brisingr flashing in the dim werelight.
It twisted aside his blow, its blade fully withdrawn and ready. The Ra'zac slashed at him, but Eragon was too quick for the creature. With a twist, Eragon parried the blow and drove Brisingr upwards, the sword piercing the foul Ra'zac through its beak and into the plated armor that protected its throat.
The Ra'zac shuddered, and Eragon withdrew Brisingr before the creature could collapse on him. For a moment Eragon started at the disgusting creature, ensuring that it was not going to rise again. When he was satisfied that the last Ra'zac was dead, Eragon let out a sigh and sheathed his sword. He did not spare the Ra'zac a single glance as he left it lying on the floor, instead choosing to walk back down the tunnel he and the others had just left.
It did not take him long to reach the cell containing Sloan, and Eragon dispelled the magic he placed on the door quickly. The door opened at his touch, and Eragon casted another eye around the small space. Nothing stood out to him, so he quickly shut the door behind him. Sloan was slumped against the wall, the chains still holding him in place.
With a quick word, Eragon woke the decrepit man, who shuddered and mumbled as he came to wakefulness.
Sloan moved as if to glance around the cell, only to remember that he was unable to see. "What? Who is there?"
"Easy," Eragon said quietly, "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer, Leader of the Dragon Riders."
Sloan let out a harsh laugh, and Eragon sensed the mocking tone his words took on, "The leader of the Dragon Riders? They all died a hundred years ago! Don't try your tricks on me, magician."
"It is true, the Riders were killed by Galbatorix and his Forsworn," Eragon said, "But I was not. Much has changed since you've been in captivity, Sloan."
Sloan moved to adjust himself on the ground, the chains rattling against the cell walls. "Are you here to free me, then? Or are you with the Black King, along with those foul creatures?"
"I'm with the Varden, who march to free Alagaësia from his grip. Whether you are freed or not depends."
"On?" Sloan asked. Eragon had to admit he was impressed by the man, who was displaying some measure of bravery in the face of the unknown.
"I was asked to judge you, and so I shall. If I decide for you to live, I will set you free." Eragon said calmly. He did not like this, standing judge over someone. Killing in battle was easy, at least it had long since become to him. But to stand in judgement over someone defenseless? It tugged at something inside him, almost enough to make him feel sick.
"And if not? Will you kill me?"
Eragon frowned. "I do not yet know."
Sloan nodded, his head leaning back to rest against the walls. Whispering, Eragon cast a spell to break the manacles on the man's arms, watching as Sloan jumped back with a small measure of fright. Reaching into the saddle bag slung across his back, Eragon withdrew the waterskin and a piece of bread he had packed away. The small bag was something Saphira had deemed necessary long ago, in case the two of them were separated. Though he never had to use it, he always made to sure to keep it sufficiently stocked for at least a few days.
Sloan was rubbing his wrists when Eragon pushed the waterskin and bread into the man's hands, "Here, eat and drink first."
With a shaking hand, he accepted the food and water. "Thank you, Rider."
Eragon said nothing, crouching down before Sloan and eyeing him. What he knew of the man only came second hand, but Eragon had entered his mind earlier to determine his identity. Still, it wasn't enough for him to decide yet what to do with the man. He didn't like that this was placed upon him, though he had seen Vrael in the past conduct such trials before, but never for someone outside the order.
Sloan ate and drank quickly, though the bread was hardly enough to sate his hunger. When the meager bread was gone, Sloan drew heavily from the waterskin, the sounds of his slurping loud in Eragon's ears. When Sloan was done, he held out the empty waterskin, and Eragon gently took it.
Eragon fiddled with the waterskin in his hands as he made to speak, but it was Sloan who spoke first, thanking him again. "Thank you, sir Rider, for your hospitality. It has been so long since I've had any food or drink, and I think I prize it even above my own freedom… May I ask a question, before we begin?"
Even if it was an attempt to delay his sentence, Eragon did not begrudge the man the knowledge he sought. Sloan had been held prisoner for months, not knowing the fate of his own village or daughter.
"Ask, and I will answer as best I can," Eragon promised.
"Do you know of my daughter, Katrina, and what has happened to her? She's imprisoned here with me, and I must ask that you free her before your judgement of me."
Eragon shifted his weight, his eyes dancing around the cell walls. "She's with Roran."
"Roran? How did he get here? Did the Ra'zac capture him as well?" Sloan asked, his words fumbling over each other as he fought to get them out.
"No, Roran is the reason I am here. He asked a favor of me, and so I granted it. Katrina is with him on her way out of the Empire. She's safe, that much you can be sure of," Eragon stated lowly.
"I see," Sloan's arms tightened around himself as though cold. "I thank you, Rider, for saving my daughter. You may do what you wish with me, for there is nothing more important to me then her life."
"Then let us begin," Eragon said. "I will enter your mind, and search through all of your memories. In this way I will know the truth of what has happened. Is this amendable to you?"
Sloan shivered, "Magic? Must we? Tis a foul practice, O' Rider."
"Either that, or I force you to swear a binding oath in the ancient language that would compel you to tell me the truth. But we do not have time for that."
Sloan debated his options silently, and Eragon tried to hide his impatience. For countless minutes Sloan said nothing, and it was only the slight nod that Eragon finally opened his mind and entered Sloan's once more.
Memories and thoughts flowed past him quickly, and Eragon dove deep into the Sloan's mind, pushing against the surface. Sloan's childhood flew past him, but he did not linger on them. The memories he was looking for were more recent and would be something that Sloan would have pushed down unconsciously. When an image of Katrina pasted by, Eragon slowed the flow, aware of Sloan twitching uncomfortably at the intrusion.
Katrina's childhood came and went, and with them Eragon saw the kind of Father Sloan was. Though he doted on Katrina often, he was always overprotective of her, and was quick to anger. Each memory provided more evidence of the same thing, so Eragon moved away from them until he found one with a familiar face. A younger Roran was talking to Katrina, hidden behind one of the village houses in Carvahall, and Eragon could feel Sloan's anger and disgust. Another memory, of Sloan berating Garrow about how unworthy Roran was, and Eragon continued passed these memories.
It felt like days had passed when Eragon pulled away from Sloan's mind. The ragged man flinched as though struck, rubbing at his head. Sloan mumbled some curses at Eragon, but he ignored them, instead reflecting on what he had seen.
He did not know Roran's or even Katrina's side of the story, but Sloan's memories had proven enough for him to see the truth. When the Empire came to Carvahall, Sloan had been part of the village defenses, helping to fend off imperial might that was Galbatorix's army. But Sloan had attacked Katrina when she fled and had even helped the Ra'zac, killing the watchman Byrd.
That he would end up captured by the same creatures he aided struck a chord of amusement briefly inside Eragon.
Eragon let out a sigh, standing up before Sloan. I do not have much time left here, he thought to himself. Any minute someone may come, and if its Murtagh it will be difficult enough for me to escape.
But what to do?
He thought about all the memories he had seen from Sloan's own mind, and everything else Roran had told him in the short time they travelled together. It was then that three words sprang into existence in his mind and knew at once he had derived Sloan's true name.
It was not a name to be proud of, and when Eragon said it out loud Sloan cried out in horror, throwing his arms up as though to ward off an impeding blow. The sound that escaped Sloan's throat was so raw and desolate that Eragon shivered, knowing the effect a true name could have on a person.
"What did you say?" Sloan moaned, his voice dripping with his misery.
"Your true name. The words spoken in the ancient language that perfectly describe you. Names have power, and knowing your true name has shown you the truth of who you are," Eragon intoned. These three words, simple though they were, spoke to the truth of who Sloan was, and for a moment Eragon felt pity well up inside him.
Sloan dragged himself forward onto his knees, whimpering before Eragon.
"I have made my decision."
He could see Sloan swallow, awaiting Eragon's final judgement.
"What you did you feel came from love, and perhaps some of it did," Eragon stated, "But there is a baser meaning behind your actions. Pain, anger, vindictiveness, hurt; all these things have led you down the path you now walk. For the murder of an innocent man and the betrayal of both your village and daughter, I, Eragon Shadeslayer, Bromson, Leader of the Riders, sentence you to death."