INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

BROM'S DISCOVERY

Eragon inspected Brom anxiously as the grizzled man added more wood to the small fire.

I should be sleeping right now...Eragon thought while Brom coughed in a dirty sleeve.

It was late, the frigid cold air seeping into Eragon's skin, easily evading the simple fur cloak he had worn to ward against the elements. Brom leaned his back on a fallen tree, wearing nothing but the artless tunic and trousers Garrow had given him.

His sword, brilliant even in the dim light, sat across his lap, sleeping inside its makeshift sheath of wood wrapped in a cloth blanket tied by thin rope. Eragon's dragon stirred from underneath his clothing, trying to get a look at the man.

Let me see him! She cried.

I want to see Brom.

Eragon ignored her pleas and gazed at Brom across the fire. He returned the look easily with eyes that seemed unimpressed by everything.

"So what is it that you have come out to show me, away from your brother and uncle?" Brom asked, finally.

Eragon had approached the man earlier that day, telling him that they must speak, privately and securely. Brom agreed readily enough, but he had left Eragon waiting by the meet up point deep in the woods of Carvahall for nearly an hour.
When Eragon saw movement reverberating  from the bush, he hurriedly gathered his dragon within his cloak, feeling for the knife hidden against his bare skin.

He relaxed, but not too much, when he saw it was simply Brom holding to his previously agreed word. Eragon leaned forward, and he felt his face being warmed by the spitting flame that separated him from the silent man.

"I don't know you well, Brom. But you are the only person I can trust. You are the only one who might understand." Eragon began as Brom raised his eyebrows, but remained silent.

Eragon swallowed, closed his eyes, and moved aside a part of his cloak. The dragon poked her tiny snout out and sniffed at the air before jumping from Eragon's lap, landing by the side of the fire.

"Gods," Brom whispered, his pupils shining. He sat up, moving his sword away as Eragon's dragon approached him, sniffing at Brom's outstretched hand. Brom smiled, and the small dragon began to purr softly, a deep rumbling sound from within her tiny stomach.

"I- I don't know what to do..." Eragon said as Brom's attention was focused on the dragon. For a moment, he was afraid that Brom would attempt to snatch his dragon and flee, and Eragon felt his hand going for the cutting knife he had hidden away in his clothing.

"I wouldn't, lad," Brom muttered, freezing Eragon in his tracks.
"When did she hatch?" he asked as the dragon trotted back to Eragon. The boy noticed that with every step Brom's smile faded.

"A few weeks ago. She gave me this-" Eragon pulled his sleeve back, showing Brom his scarred right palm. Brom rose and grabbed Eragon's arm stiffly, drawing it closer to the fire, his eyes fixated on the brand.

Eragon's eyes were wide with fear, but he remained silent, aware of Brom's sword that lay by the man's feet. He never realized how afraid of Brom he was until now. Before, he had seemed weak and incapable. Now... it seemed as if the man reverted time, his skin clearing and wrinkles smoothing, his body hardening and growing wider with every passing day. Before, he had thought Brom older than Garrow, but now Eragon wasn't so sure if Brom was more than twenty years older than himself.

"Where did you get the egg?" Brom asked after a long pause of silence. He released Eragon, and the boy sat back in the grass, rubbing his wrist where Brom had grasped it.

"It was simply in the woods. I found it while hunting. I thought this is what the Empire was searching for." Eragon spoke while his dragon climbed back into his lap.

"This was their prize. And now, you have it. The egg has hatched for you. They most likely do not know... not yet. But you must leave this place. For the safety of yourself and your people."

Eragon shook his head slowly, doubt filling his mind. "I can't just go- Garrow needs me. Besides, I've evaded the soldiers well enough."

Brom's expression turned sour almost instantly.

"You ignorant little fool. Do you think your Dragon could grow here? And do you truly believe the Empire would only use soldiers to find this treasure? No. There will be darker things lurking, behind the banners and the armor...slinking beings that are made of shadow and malice. If they haven't been summoned... they will be. And soon."

Fear gripped Eragon's heart as he looked down at his dragon, snuggled close to his stomach.

"I was wondering... if you could take her.." He said softly.

"It's a her? Gods! I'm surprised this town hasn't been burned down already. I cannot, Eragon. Dragon and rider can only be separated by death. Nothing more, and not a bit less." Brom fixed his glare on Eragon when the boy gave him a puzzled look.

"Your life has changed forever, Eragon. You are the first Dragon Rider to emerge in over one hundred years. And if you stay here, you will positively die."

Eragon drew himself in. He felt numb, but he wasn't sure if it was the cold, or the shock.

" I cannot leave... I know the danger but I just can't.." Eragon stammered, and Brom's eyes went dark with rage.

"This is no longer about you, whelp. Do you truly know nothing? Do you know who the Riders were?"

Brom asked. Eragon shook his head, embarrassed and afraid. Brom sighed, placing a hand across his bearded face.

"I will have to teach you then. But not here. Not now. We must leave this place. And soon." Brom said, rising to his feet, and bending to retrieve his sword. Eragon still sat, struck with fear and awe.

"Come. You must rest now, boy. You will never be the same again." Brom ordered, walking past Eragon, his sword swaying on back. Eragon rushed to snuff out the fire, following Brom into the darkness of the woods, dragon bundled up in his chest and arms.

Sloan watched them leave, but they were nothing more than shifting shapes in the dark.

Damn the night.
He cursed as he blindly rose to his feet. As he did so, the man cut his thumb on a thorn. Swearing, he placed his thumb in his mouth, and tasted the salty flavor of his own blood while it welled from the wound.

This is what they want. Sloan grinned greedily as the thought of the reward the Imperials would grant him. Perhaps the King would shower him in gold- Mayhap even grant him a lordship and lands. He was tired of Carvahall, isolated and cold, prone to Urgal raids and untrustworthy merchants.

He could almost picture the army captain's face when he told him what he found, the imagined scenario brought another grin, wider than the first.
He was glad he had decided to follow Eragon and the man when he saw them leave in the twilight of night. He knew something was strange about the stranger, and the fruits of his labor had paid off. He had seen the dragon, he had heard bits and pieces of the conversation they had. All he had to do was tell the captain and then be ferried off to Uru'baen, where the king would grant him his prize.

"Rise, Lord Gullwater." The King would say, and Sloan would rise, his face beaming. The King would possibly make him Lord of Carvahall- and Sloan would turn it into a force to be reckoned with. He would expel Garrow and his adopted son, Roran. He felt that Eragon would not be living that much longer.

He chuckled at the thought of the boy hanging.

Now that his mind dwelt on the subject, he wouldn't mind hanging Roran. Roran, with his muscles and clear skin and dark eyes. Roran, who spent too much time around his shop, just so he could get a peak at Sloan's daughter. Sloan hated the way Katrina looked at him- He wondered if they escaped into the night together, tumbling in Carvahall's tall grasses...

Sloan rejected the idea. It was of no consequence. Soon, the boys would be dead, and Garrow would be too, or at the very least, removed from the town. Sloan would rule as a loyal subject to the king, with knights deserving of a lord protecting him and his daughter and his people.

Sloan was almost laughing when he returned to the town, and let out a yawn of delight as he stumbled into bed. Tomorrow, everything would change.

For the better.