Erys: An Eragon Fanfiction - (Under Editing)

Chapter Thirty-Three

On the Road Again

Erys chewed on a chunk of hardtack.  As she ate, her mind wandered to the poison flooding her veins.  Her time was limited and any hope of finding a cure was slim on her own.  Especially on her own.  She figured her best bet was to find a catalogue of known poisons.  Until they found Therinsford, any hope of an antidote was folly.

"We should move on."

She washed the rest of the biscuit down with water and repackaged her bag.  Keilith lashed the pack to Du Thirr's saddle and boosted Erys onto their back.  He clambered up behind her; Eirdain rode with Khyiana. They used Silverflame for a packhorse.

"Anyone know which way Therinsgord is?" Keilith asked.

An image popped into her mind, a path cut directly through the forest leading to a sprawling, haphazard village, walled off from the outside world.  She sat forward, nearly smacking Keilith.

"You know where we're going?"

"No."

"We're trudging blindly through the forest?" Eirdain asked.

"Lead the way, Vanilor," she said aloud for the benefit of the others.

"Ah."

"Can he also tell us where these 'gates of hell' are?"

"Wouldn't that be something," she muttered. "Make haste."

He quickened his strides.  Eirdain pushed the horse into a gallop to keep up.

"What's the rush?"

"We have to get as far away from Carvahall as possible as quickly as we can," Erys snapped.

She fell silent. She took in the forest around her. Any living thing hid at the sight of Du Thirr. The voice of the forest would quiet everywhere as they passed.

As the hours wore on Erys found her body becoming increasingly sore. Surprising since her dragons carried all her weight, plus their bags. She hoped it was spending the day in the saddle and not the effects of poison raging through her veins. The paranoia continued to eat at her until she developed a headache and nausea.

She swayed gently in the saddle, more often than not pressing against Keilith's chest. She assumed the sun made its usually track against the sky, through in the density of the forest, she could not see it. They rode and sometimes walked, for hours until they began to see signs of the village: outposts erected along the road, entire paths barricaded, increased surveillance through the forest. On an expedition for water, Eirdain found a beaten path—a road straight to their destination—a few yards from the stream. He ducked into the underbrush as a squad of soldiers made their rounds. His heart hammered in his chest, painfully as each second crawled by.

When they'd passed, he crawled backwards until he'd put several yards between them, then ran off in a crouch. he relayed the information to the others. They packed up and moved camp, sending Keilith to scout ahead to make sure the path was clear. They remained far off the road should they meet an unfavourable soul, looping around to near the village. The added time made Erys nervous, but there was nothing she could do but wait.

They made camp a league from the main gate to spend the remainder of the day planning.

"We should move before nightfall.  Before they close the gates," Erys suggested. Something inside her ached, but she couldn't be sure whether it was poison racing through her veins or fear.  Uncertainty blanketed every choice they made, but she couldn't risk waiting.  "We'll find an inn."

"And risk getting trapped?  You do remember Ceunon?  If that's not clear enough for you, think back to Carvahall!"

"This is Therinsford.  We're in the Spine.  We're safer—"