Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

Hiding

It had been three days since the Ra'zac had come to their valley. Roran had begun pacing, unable to stop. He had no news since Albriech had visited him, and he couldn't find out anything else by watching Carvahall. So he would shoot angry glares at the soldier's tents before resuming his frantic pace.

Midday came, Roran stopping for a brief and dry lunch. How long are the Ra'zac willing to wait? He pondered. This was a game of patience they were playing, and Roran was Determined to outwait them.

Getting bored he practiced his archery, ending his session when he broke an arrow on a stone embedded in his target, a rotting log. Afterwards with nothing else to do, he kept pacing.

He was doing this until he heard footsteps. Roran snatched his bow and waited for the intruder. He was overcome with relief when he saw Baldor's face appeared. He waved the boy over. They both sat down.
"Why hasn't anyone come?" Roran started the conversation.

"We couldn't." Baldor explained, wiping his forehead and panting slightly. "The soldiers have been watching us too closely. This was the first opportunity we had to get away. I can't stay long, either." He glanced at the mountaintop high above, shivering. "You're braver than I, staying here. Have you had any trouble with wolves, bears, mountain cats?"
"No, I'm fine." Roran assured him, shaking his head. "Did the soldiers say anything new?"

"One of them bragged to Morn last night that their squad was handpicked for this mission." Roran didn't like that information. "They haven't been too quiet.… At least one or two of them get drunk each night. A group of them tore up Morn's tavern the first day."
"Did they pay for the damage?" Roran inquired.
"Course not."
Roran glanced at his beloved village. "I still have trouble believing that the Empire would go to these lengths to capture me. What could I give them? What do they think I can give them?"

Baldor traced his gaze. "The Ra'zac questioned Katrina today. Someone mentioned that the two of you are close, and the Ra'zac were curious if she knew where you'd gone." Roran snapped back to Baldor. "Is she all right?"
"It would take more than those two to scare her." Baldor comforted. Then his tone shifted to cautiousness.
"Perhaps you should consider turning yourself in."

"I'd sooner hang myself and them with me!" Roran burst out, heaving himself up and resuming his pacing, tapping his leg anxiously. "How can you say that, knowing how they tortured my father?"
Baldor caught his arm and explained. "What happens if you remain in hiding and the soldiers don't give up and leave? They'll assume we lied to help you escape. The Empire doesn't forgive traitors."

Roran shrugged him off, spinning while still tapping his leg, seating himself with sharp movements, thinking. If I don't show myself, the Ra'zac will blame the people at hand. If I attempt to lead the Ra'zac away…  he wasn't a skilled enough woodsman to lead thirty men and the Ra'zac astray without being captured.
Eragon could do it, but not me. He reminded himself.

He sighed through gritted teeth. "I don't want anyone to be hurt on my behalf. I'll wait for now, and if the Ra'zac grow impatient and threaten someone… Well then, I'll think of something else to do."
"It's a nasty situation all around." Baldor complained bitterly.
"One I intend to survive." Roran replied.

The conversation ended, Baldor left Roran to his thoughts, pacing a small trench into the dirt.
Dusk came, and Roran took off his boots so as not to wear them out too soon, continuing barefoot.

During the night, Roran paused to watch a disturbance in Carvahall, lanterns swaying through the walkways and roads and banding together in the middle of the town. Then they approached the stark line of torches at the edge of the village. They desperately flitted about beside the unforgiving wall for several hours until both sides departed back to the houses and tents. Roran went to bed once nothing more occurred.