Sja Fram [Inheritance Cycle | Eragon Fanfiction]

Chapter XXIII: Dras-Leona

We found lodging at the Golden Globe, which was cheap but not decrepit. A narrow bed was crammed against one wall of the room, with a rickety table and a basin alongside it. I glanced at the matress before dropping my bags on the floor.

"The floor looks quite comfortable here," I said in response to Brom and Eragon's gazes. "Besides, I do believe the bgus in the mattress don't deserve that meal."

Eragon looked at the mattress, and dumped his stuff next to mine. "I'm sleeping on the flor as well. There are probably enough bugs in that thing to eat me alive."

"Well, I wouldn't want to deprive them of a meal," Brom said, dropping his bags on the floor. Eragon pulled off his bow and I set Ren and my bow down softly.

"What now?" I asked.

"We find food and beer. After that, sleep. Tomorrow we can start looking for the Ra'zac." Before we left the room, Brom warned, "No matter what happens, make sure that your tongue doesn't loosen. We'll have to leave immediately if we're given away. In fact, it may be best you two don't drink."

"Eragon can drink," I said, "I'll stay clean and keep a careful eye on him."

The inn's food was barely adequate, but according to Eragon, 'I should really try the beer, its great!' When the pair finally stumbled back to the room, I was quick to follow them. I unrolled my blanket and mat onto the floor and qickly feel asleep.

The next morning, Brom and Eragon awoke with grumbles. I smiled at them smugly, glad that I had decided not to drink. Brom rolled out of bed, doused his head in cold water from the basin, and then left the room. "What are you going?" I asked from my position on the floor still gazing up at the ceiling, blasé.

"To recover," Brom replied sullenly.

"I'll come," Eragon said, pushing himself up and exciting the room.

"I suppose I might as well get food," I muttered to myself before leaving the room and entering the hallway.

At the bar, it turned out Brom's way of recovering involved imbining copious amounts of hot tear and ice water and washing it all down with brandy. I got a small meal that wasn't worth the price asked. The bland taste in my mouth urged me to spit it out. I swallowed the last bit with some water before entering the room again.

When Brom and Eragon returned to the room neither were grumbling and stumbling around the room. Taking it that they had recovered, I looked at Brom, silently questioning what we were to do. Brom belted on his sword and smoothed the wrinkles out of his robe. "The first thing we need to do is ask some discreet questions. I want to find out where the Seithr oil was delievered in Dras-Leona and where it was taken from there. Most likely, soldiers or workmen were involved in transporting it. We have to find those men and get one to talk."

We left the Golden Globe and searched for warehouses where the Seithr oil might have been delivered. Near the center of Dras-Leona, the streets began to slant upward toward a palace of polished granite. It was built on a rise so that it towered above every building except the cathedral.

The courtyard was a mosaic of mother-of-pearl, and parts of the walls were inlaid with gold. Black statues stood in alcoves, with sticks of incense smoking in their cold hands. Soldiers stationed every four yards watched passersby keenly.

"Who lives there?" asked Eragon in awe.

"Marcus Tábor, ruler of this city. He answers only to the king and his own conscience, which hasn't been very active recently," said Brom. We walked around the palace, looking at the gated, ornate houses that surrounded it.

By midday, we had learned nothing useful, so we stopped for lunch. "This city is too vast for us to comb it together," said Brom. "Search on your own. Meet me at the Golden Globe by dusk." He glowered at Eragon and me from under his bushy eyebrows. "I trust the both of you not to do anything stupid."