Section Four

The night before they reached the village, Eragon had an especially vivid dream.

He saw Garrow and Roran at home, sitting in the ruined kitchen. They wanted him to help rebuild their home, but he only shook his head, his heart filled with the ache of longing. "I'm tracking the murderers who killed you," he whispered to his uncle.

Garrow looked at him suspiciously and demanded, "Do I look dead to you?"

"I can't help you." Tears welled in Eragon's eyes as he spoke softly.

A sudden roar rang in his ears, and Garrow transformed into a Ra'zac. "Then die!" they hissed, lunging at Eragon.

He woke in pain, watching the stars slowly wheel across the sky.

Everything will be all right, little one, Saphira said gently.

The people of Daret lived beside the Ninor River, which allowed them to survive in the wilderness. The village was small and desolate, showing no sign that anyone lived there. The closer Eragon and Brom came, the more wary they became. This time, Saphira was hiding close to the village; if trouble arose, she would arrive in time.

They rode into the village, doing their best to avoid conversation. Brom held his sword in his uninjured hand, his eyes flickering as they missed nothing. Eragon held his crossbow half-cocked, continually scanning the silent houses on both sides of the road, uncertainty churning within him. This looks bad, he told Saphira. She did not answer, but Eragon sensed that she was coiled to spring, ready to rush to them at any moment. He looked at the ground, and his unease eased somewhat when he saw children's fresh footprints. But where were they?

They reached the center of Daret, and it was still empty. Brom could not help tensing. Wind swept through the cold, deserted cottages, and now and then a swirl of dust spiraled over the ground. Brom reined his horse around. "We're leaving. I don't like this feeling." He urged Snowfire into a swift trot, and Eragon spurred Cadoc to follow close behind.

Before they had gone more than a few paces, several wagons emerged from behind the houses and blocked their path. Cadoc snorted, pawed the ground, and came to an abrupt halt beside Snowfire. A dark-faced man jumped down from one of the wagons and stood rigidly before them, a broadsword at his waist and a bow half-drawn in his hand. Eragon also raised his crossbow and aimed an arrow at the stranger. The man shouted, "Stop! Put down your weapons. You are surrounded by sixty archers. Anyone who moves dies!" As if to prove his words, a line of figures appeared on the surrounding rooftops.

Don't come, Saphira, Eragon cried inwardly. There are too many of them. If you come, they'll shoot you down. Don't come! She had heard him, but he could not be sure she would obey. Eragon prepared to use magic. I won't let them hit Brom or me.

"What do you want?" Brom asked calmly.

"What are you doing here?" the man countered.

"We came to replenish some necessities and hear whatever news there may be, nothing more. We're merely passing through on our way to my cousin's home in Dras-Leona."

"You are fully armed."

"So are you," Brom said. "These are dangerous times."

"Yes." The man studied them carefully. "I think you mean no harm, but we have encountered too many giants and bandits to trust you on your word alone."

"If nothing we say will matter, then what is this supposed to be?" Brom retorted. The people on the rooftops did not move. Eragon believed their silence came either from strict discipline or concern for their own lives. He hoped it was the latter.

"You said you only wanted to buy necessities. Will you agree to remain here while we bring them to you, and leave as soon as you have paid?"

"All right."

"Good." The man lowered his bow, though the arrow remained nocked. He signaled one of the archers, who jumped down from the roof and ran over. "Tell him what you need."

Brom listed a string of items, then added, "And if you have a spare pair of gloves suitable for my nephew, I would like to buy those as well." The archer nodded and ran off.

"My name is Trev," the man standing before them said. "Ordinarily, I should shake your hands. But given the current circumstances, I think it would be better for us to keep some distance. Tell me, where do you come from?"

"The north," Brom said. "But we never stay anywhere long enough to call it home. Is it giants that have made you so heavily guarded?"

"That's right," Trev said. "And worse demons besides. Do you have news from other villages and towns? We are rather isolated here, but we have still heard that other places are under attack."

Brom's face darkened. "I wish I did not have such bad news to bring you. About half a month ago, we passed through Yazuac and found it had already been ravaged. The villagers had been slaughtered, their bodies piled together in one place. We had intended to give them a proper burial, but two giants attacked us."

Trev was utterly shocked. He took several steps back and stared tearfully at the ground. "Ah, what a tragic day. Still, I cannot understand how two giants could bring about Yazuac's utter destruction. The people there were all skilled fighters—some of them were my friends."

"There is evidence that a band of giants destroyed that village," Brom said. "I think the ones we encountered were merely stragglers."

"How many were there?"

Brom toyed with his reins before answering. "The group was small and elite, numerous enough to destroy Yazuac, yet few enough to move secretly through the countryside. Somewhere below a hundred, but above fifty. If my estimate is correct, whether fifty or a hundred, either number would be fatal to you." Trev agreed with deep concern. "You should consider leaving," Brom continued. "For those who wish to live peaceful lives, this place has become fraught with danger."

"I know, but the people refuse to move. This is their home—and mine too, though I have only lived here for a few years. They value this place more than their own lives." Trev stared gravely at Brom. "We have defeated individual giants before, and the villagers have grown far too careless because of it. I am terrified that one day, when we wake from our dreams, our throats will already have been cut."

The archer emerged from a house carrying a large pile of goods and brought them before Brom. After Brom had paid, he waited for the man to leave before asking, "Why did they entrust you with the task of defending Daret?"

Trev shrugged. "I served in the king's army for several years."

Brom rummaged through the things they had bought, pulled out a pair of gloves, and handed them to Eragon. Then he packed the rest into their saddlebags. Eragon put on the gloves, carefully keeping his palms facing down. He flexed his fingers several times and found the leather fine and sturdy, though its surface bore scratches from use. "All right," Brom said. "As I promised, we are leaving."

Trev nodded. "After you reach Dras-Leona, could you do us a favor? Please warn the Empire about our situation and that of the other villages and towns. If word has not yet reached the king's ears, we are in grave danger. And if he already knows but does nothing, we are in just as much danger."

"We will pass the word on. May your sword never lose its edge," Brom said.

"And yours as well."

The wagons opened a path, and they left the village, entering the trees along the Ninor River. Eragon sent Saphira a message. We're on our way back, safe and sound. She answered only with restrained anger.

Brom stroked his long beard. "The Empire's condition is worse than I imagined. Merchants brought troubling news to Carvahall, but I never thought it had spread so far. Giants are appearing everywhere. It looks as though the entire Empire is under attack, yet I see no sign of troops being mobilized, as if the king has no intention of defending his own lands."

"That's very strange," Eragon agreed.

Brugh ducked beneath a low branch. "While we were in Daret, did you use your special ability?"

"There was no reason to."