20A/N: BAM! Bet you didn't see that coming, did you? A new chapter!
I have no excuse for my extremely long break from this. Writer's block? Exams (including a massive, nail-biting one)? An even bigger pile of work that I've been drowning in up until this moment? Does that appease the (probably few) people who still remember me?
Well, how about this, then? Oh good.
The evening was drawing in when Murtagh heard Lianne muffle a yawn with her hand. There was no way she would make it through a reading lesson tonight without falling asleep, and even if she did, she would make mistakes in it. They would have to stop and rest for the night.
In truth, he was feeling much the same, although he would never let her know that. He knew that she saw him as some sort of indestructible force, and even though it wasn't true, he was somewhat flattered by her unwavering faith in his abilities.
He heard her yawn again, and he sighed. "Next clearing we get to, we're stopping."
"But I'm not tired," she protested, even as she yawned again. "I can keep going."
He twisted to look at her, and raised his eyebrows. "You're practically asleep in the saddle," he replied. "We're stopping." He paused for a second, and frowned. "Did you hear that?"
Lianne stifled another yawn, straining her ears to listen to whatever it was that Murtagh had heard. "I don't hear anyth…" she trailed off, as she caught the sound of some sort of creature.
There was a long pause, where Lianne's heart began beating faster and faster. What if it were Imperial soldiers? Could they have found them? What would they do? What would she do? Lianne was not oblivious to the fact that she had no fighting ability. The sound broke out again, and this time there was some sort of hissing as well. Lianne's eyes widened. "What is it?" she breathed, not daring to raise her voice any louder. When Murtagh didn't respond, she nudged him. "Murtagh?"
Slowly and quietly, Murtagh pulled an arrow from his quiver and laid it across the strings of his bow, unwilling to remain unready. Lianne loosened her grip on his waist, knowing that he would have told her to do that anyway. He slid off the horse, and pulled her with him. As he led his horse towards a tree, he pulled her closer to him. "Stay with the horse," he ordered, in barely more than a whisper. "Don't leave unless I tell you to." When she looked uncertain, he gripped her shoulder. "Don't move," he ordered, the strength of his grip increasing until it began to hurt. When she nodded, he let go, and stalked into the trees.
As his horse eyed her with what seemed like confusion, Lianne sincerely hoped that Murtagh would be alright. What if they were Imperial soldiers? What if it were something worse? What if Murtagh were injured? What if he were killed? What would she do then?
She twisted part of her skirt into her fist and tried to keep her fear under control. Try as she might, she could not help it. She was afraid, and she knew it.
There was a muffled yell, and Lianne let out a squeak. Clapping her hands over her mouth, she prayed that she hadn't been heard by anyone, but the only sound she could hear was the beat of her own heart as it began to beat quicker and quicker in fear. She didn't know how long Murtagh had been gone for. Surely not that long?
She strained her ears, trying to listen for any sign that would tell her Murtagh was alright, but there was none. Was he alive? What if he wasn't? What if he was dead? Should she leave?
He had told her not to, though. If he were alive and well, he wouldn't want her to leave. That would be selfish of her.
But it would be so easy to do that. She had finally mastered how to get on a horse, although she still sat, in Murtagh's words, "like a sack of potatoes". She could leave, get help from somewhere…
Where from? Where could she go? She had no idea where the nearest town was. She had no idea where she even was. What could she do that would help Murtagh anyway? Where there were towns, there were usually Imperial soldiers, and if Murtagh wasn't dead, he wouldn't appreciate her bringing back Imperial soldiers. She couldn't do that anyway, not if she wanted to keep the letter safe. So what could she do?
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching until it was too late. A hand went over her mouth, and she gasped, but the sound was muffled. Then she looked and saw whose hand it was. "You're alive," she mumbled, taking the hand away.
Murtagh narrowed his eyes at her critically. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I heard a yell," she explained, feeling rather dimwitted.
"Oh, that." Murtagh shrugged. "That wasn't me. I've got a surprise for you."
It was Lianne's turn to narrow her eyes. "What sort of surprise?" she asked skeptically. "Good or bad?"
"Let's just say you'll be amazed," Murtagh replied. He grasped her wrist and pulled her and his horse towards a small clearing spotted with arrows, where two people were slumped on the ground, both unconscious. The smaller seemed to be a boy, only a year or so younger than Lianne was, with brown, sweat-soaked hair falling into eyes of the same colour. The taller was an old man, with silver hair spilling from his head and mixing with his white beard, which was set underneath a proud hooked nose and blue eyes. A dagger protruded from between two of his ribs. To the side of the clearing stood two horses – one pure white, the other a light bay.
Lianne's eyes widened suddenly, as she heard the same noise they had heard before. She turned, and her mouth dropped open as she saw what had been making the noise.
It was a dragon, chained and muzzled, watching them suspiciously.
She turned back to Murtagh, who seemed to be doing his best not to laugh at her behaviour. "You found the Rider," she said, amazed. But at the same time, there was a part of her that was a little disappointed that they had and she wasn't sure of its size. Would this mean that Murtagh would leave?
"We found him," he corrected.
"Which one is he?" she asked, gesturing to the two people.
"Does it matter?" Murtagh said, picketing his horse near a tree. "They're no use if they're dead. You check those two, and I'll handle the dragon."
Lianne nodded, and moved towards the boy. Just as she was about to untie him, the dragon snarled, having had its muzzle removed by Murtagh, and Lianne jumped, startled. She looked at the dragon. "I just want to help," she said quietly.
"You really think talking to it will help?" Murtagh asked skeptically.
Lianne shrugged. "It's better than just dismissing it, I suppose," she replied. She made to untie the boy again, but the dragon snarled once more, and she gave up, moving towards the old man. Her eyes widened as she looked at the wound. "What should I do?"
"How deep is it?" he called, taking another chain off the dragon.
Lianne paused. "Deep enough. It's right between two of his ribs."
"Cut away that part of his robes, and wash it out with some of the water from the waterskin. Use one of the spare shirts to soak up the blood and bandage it up. I'm assuming you know how to do that?" he asked patronisingly
Lianne's back straightened proudly and her shoulders went back. "I'm not an idiot, Murtagh. I may not be as experienced as you, but I'm not an idiot either." She picked up the waterskin and sloshed some water over the old man's wound, before taking one of Murtagh's shirts and wadding it up. She pressed it to the wound, and looked at her skirt, hesitating. It was a relatively new one that Murtagh had made her buy in one of the towns, having (truthfully) said that her old one was beyond repair. She didn't really want to tear it up.
"Don't even think of it," Murtagh commented. "Tear one of the blankets up."
She rolled her eyes – how did he always know what she was thinking? – and picked one of the blankets up. Tearing it into strips, she strapped them to the wadded up shirt, and hoped that the old man would pull through.
Murtagh came over to examine her work. "Not bad," he told her, with a note of approval in his voice. He picked up the old man and carried him towards a fallen log on the other side of the clearing.
"Did you want some help with those chains?" she asked, gesturing to the dragon.
"No need. They're almost off anyway." He walked back towards the dragon and unlocked the last chain, to prove his point. Freed from its bonds, the dragon immediately stalked towards the boy, spreading its wings either side of him protectively, and answering the question of who was the Rider.
Lianne watched it go, wondering how a creature that looked so fierce could be so gentle at the same time. Murtagh tugged on her arm. "Here." He sat her down on the fallen log, near enough to the Rider, yet far enough to stop the dragon from snarling at them. He began starting a fire, and Lianne watched silently.
"Are you still tired?" Murtagh asked, without looking up from his work.
Lianne blinked, startled. She shook her head. "Not anymore. I think it's the excitement."
"Feeling up to a reading lesson?"
She shrugged. "If you want."
He sat down next to her on the log and began tracing words into the dirt. Lianne read them out slowly, faltering on some words but correcting herself without Murtagh's help. As she practiced, she found that she didn't need to sound out some of the words, remembering them from previous lessons, and Murtagh seemed to be running out of things to write.
When Lianne was in the middle of a sentence, they both heard a noise from the Rider, and looked towards the dragon. Murtagh picked up his bow warily. From underneath one of its wings, the boy was struggling to his knees. He looked up at them, taking shallow breaths, and was obviously in a lot of pain. "Who are you?"
Murtagh's hands tightened around his bow. "Murtagh."
In sharp contrast to his moody reply, Lianne smiled brightly. "My name's Lianne. Who are you?"
"Eragon," mumbled the boy, pulling his hands underneath his legs so that they ended up in front of him. He visibly winced. "Why did you help us?"
"You're not the only enemies that the Ra'zac have," Murtagh replied. "We were tracking them."
"You know who they are?"
"Yes." Murtagh's reply was quiet and terse.
Lianne eyed the boy curiously as he mumbled something, and her eyes widened as the ropes suddenly snapped off his wrists. How had he done that? She watched as he tried to stand, but fell back again, clenching his teeth, and she sprang forward to try to help him, but the dragon snarled again, and she shrank back. "Sorry," she mumbled. "We tried to help before, but your dragon wouldn't let either of us near you."
"Her name's Saphira," corrected Eragon, and Lianne nodded. The dragon gave one more growl, before folding her wings away and backing away. Both Lianne and Murtagh walked forward to help him, Murtagh eyeing the dragon warily. As they helped him to stand, Eragon yelped, and would have fallen if the two had not supported him. They helped him over to the fire, and Eragon looked at the old man. "How is he?"
"Bad," Murtagh replied, as he and Lianne lowered Eragon to the ground. "The knife went right between his ribs. You can look at him in a minute, but first we'd better look at you." He helped Eragon remove his shirt, and whistled.
Lianne's eyes widened in shock. "Ouch!"
"Ouch," Eragon agreed. There was a blotchy bruise running down his left side, with some parts of the red, swollen skin broken. Murtagh put a hand on the bruise and pressed lightly. Eragon let out a cry of pain, and the dragon growled.
"Lianne, get me a blanket," Murtagh ordered, and Lianne scurried to obey. Murtagh tore it into strips and bound Eragon's chest up. "I think you have at least two broken ribs. You're lucky you're not coughing up blood."
Eragon slipped his shirt back on. "Yes… I'm lucky." He took a shallow breath and moved towards the old man, examining Lianne's handiwork. He unravelled the bandage carefully.
"I wouldn't do that," Murtagh warned. "He'll bleed to death without it."
Eragon shook his head, and pulled the cloth away, examining the wound. He paused for a moment, before he held his palm over the wound. He mumbled something, before his hand glowed, and the old man's skin knitted together rapidly. When he had finished, he sat down.
"What's his name?" Lianne asked curiously.
Eragon looked at her, almost startled that she was watching him. "Brom," he replied. "His name is Brom."
Lianne smiled. "He'll get better now, won't he?"
Eragon shrugged. "I can only mend what's on the surface – I don't know enough to mend whatever's damaged inside. It's up to him." He closed his eyes for a moment. "My… my head feels like it's floating in the clouds."
"You probably need to eat," Murtagh replied. "I'll make soup."
"I'll help," Lianne offered. She offered a friendly smile to Eragon. "I'm sure your friend will be fine," she said reassuringly.
He gave her a weak smile, and she moved to help Murtagh with the soup. As they cooked, Lianne's eyes could not help but wander to Eragon. He was so young to be a Rider, she thought. How old was he? Did he have any family? Friends? Where was he from?
She handed Eragon a bowl of soup, and he took great spoonfuls, before looking up at Murtagh. "How long has it been since the Ra'zac fled?"
"A few hours," Murtagh replied, taking a spoonful of his own soup.
"We have to go before they come back with reinforcements," Eragon said.
"Well, you might be able to travel, but he can't," Murtagh told him, gesturing to Brom. "You don't get up and ride away after being stabbed in the ribs."
Eragon seemed to think for a moment before speaking. "Saphira can carry him, but we'll need a litter. Can you make one? I don't have the strength."
Murtagh stood up. "Wait here." Lianne made to follow him, but then thought better of it. What exactly could she do to help him? She wasn't strong enough, and Eragon was clearly in no state to be left alone.
So while Eragon picked up his belongings, she packed the rest of their campsite up, making sure that all Murtagh's belongings were together and that her small bag still contained the letter and the drugged mead. She handed Eragon a blanket. "For the litter," she told him, when he looked confused.
He nodded. "Thank you." Then he paused. "Where are you from?"
"A little town called Littlewood. It's not far from Leona Lake, and it's surrounded by trees. What about you?"
"Carvahall, up in the Palancar Valley," he replied. "It's not very big either."
Lianne smiled, wondering if all the things people had said about Dragon Riders were true – were they really as strong as ten men? Did they have pointed ears, or was that just elves?
She stole a look at Eragon as he packed up a bag. No, his ears weren't pointed. She wondered what was true, and almost asked him, but stopped. Later, she told herself. She could ask him later.
Murtagh soon came back with two saplings. He laid them parallel on the ground and then tied the blanket between the poles, before tying Brom to the litter. When he had finished, Saphira took hold of the litter and began to fly away. "I never thought I would see a sight like that," commented Murtagh, with an odd note in his voice. If Lianne didn't know better, she would have said that he was amazed.
As Saphira disappeared, Eragon limped to one of his horses and mounted it gingerly. "Thank you for helping us," he said. "You should leave now. Ride away as far 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 either of you on our account."
Murtagh and Lianne exchanged a look, before Murtagh spoke. "A pretty speech," he said, scuffing out the fire. "But where are you going to go? Is there somewhere nearby you can rest in safety?"
Eragon shook his head. "No."
"In that case, I think we'll accompany you until you're out of danger," Murtagh told him. "Lianne and I don't have anywhere better to be, and if we stay with you, we'll get a shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if we were on our own. Interesting things usually happen around a Rider. Unless Lianne doesn't want to?" He looked at her.
She smiled. "Of course I don't. You don't mind, do you?" She looked at Eragon when she said the last part.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before shrugging. "Join us if you wish."
Murtagh helped Lianne onto his horse, before getting on himself. As she wound her arms around his waist as she had done so many times before, she allowed herself another victorious smile.
They had found the Dragon Rider.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, and I'm so sorry for the delay.