The Dark Hours - Eragon Fanfic

Chapter Two: Shadows

The darkness shifted around them, heavy and absolute, the only way of knowing distance and space was through the breathing of the men nearby, and the scuff of one's foot on the tunnel floors.

There were dwarves in the lead–they could apparently see well enough, but for all Murtagh knew he was walking through the underground tunnel with a bunch of armor-clad dogs.

His feet dragged with exhaustion, both from the long day of fighting and their hunt through the tunnels.They'd descended into darkness hours earlier to search out the stragglers of the now-decimated Urgal army, and Murtagh felt like he might lose his mind if he didn't see some real light soon.

The dwarf in the lead had a single dwarven lantern, but it was covered, and the cranky old fellow wouldn't let so much as a crack of light through for his human companions to avoid tripping into one another. Already Murtagh had apologized to the man in front of him–Tuarth his name was–more than once.

They were heading back now, after Ajihad had determined that they'd gone far enough, routing out the enemy in this particular tunnel, and despite his exhaustion Murtagh wanted to sprint back to Farthen Dur.

Maybe he could get some food and water, and lie down somewhere soft for a few hours, before checking in with Eragon. His friend had been having a rough time of it, since the battle. The Shade had done a number on him before he'd managed to take it out, and Murtagh hated to see him in so much pain.

Murtagh had only foggy memories of the days after he'd received the scar on his own back, but he knew what that kind of pain was, and that it would be a long healing road, if they couldn't get it fixed by magic.

The dwarf in the lead called a rest, and Murtagh heard the other men sigh in relief, and immediately search for a rock or two to sit on. The lantern was uncovered and all the men passed around what water and provisions they had.

Tuarth shared a bit of cracker with Murtagh–one of the only men in the company who was openly friendly with him–and Murtagh gave his thanks, too tired to say much.

In the few minutes they had, Tuarth lay himself down on the tunnel floor with his hands on his chest, and closed his eyes. Murtagh smirked, amazed at the man, who probably could've slept in the middle of Farthen Dur while the battle was raging around him.

Murtagh was thinking about lying down himself, when he felt someone standing over him, and looked up to see Ajihad.

"Sir," He started, rising quickly. But the older man raised a hand and and said,

"At ease,"

And Murtagh lowered himself back down, as the Varden leader sat himself on the rock Tuarth had recently vacated.

"I only wanted to see how you're faring," Ajihad said, his voice calm and warm in the coolness of the tunnels. Murtagh was tense with energy now, hoping he wouldn't say the wrong thing.

"W–well. Thank you."

"Sure you'll be glad to make it back to the light," He offered, his eyes white in the darkness.

"Yes, sir."

Ajihad had taken out a knife and begun peeling an apple with it. After a moment he said,

"My daughter tells me you're an accomplished reader and man of letters," Ajihad continued, surprising Murtagh. Ajihad's daughter had been talking about him? What for?

"Uh–I–yes, sir. Good enough, I suppose."

"Good, good," The older man said, cutting another slice, "We need smart men around here."