The Return of the Guardian

Chapter 12

Return of the Guardian

Chapter 12

A constant buzzing finally awoke Eragon. With a quick clap of his hands, he killed the mosquito, glad to be rid of the bug, though several more buzzed nearby. He would have gone back to sleep if it were not for the sun beginning to peak above the horizon. Yawning, he made himself get up. Murtagh was poking a patch of moss with a stick, a look of boredom upon his face. Upon seeing Eragon awake, his expression changed as a smiled crossed his lips. "Good, you're up. I was just debating whether or not I should wake you. We need to be going. This place is dreary and I have a feeling the Urgals may have discovered our flight path. During the night, I thought I heard something, but I never heard the noise again, so it could have been my paranoia."

Two days ago, Saphira had spotted a band of Urgals heading in their direction. In desperation to lose them, Murtagh suggested that they travel through an area of marshland. Unable to come up with another solution, Eragon agreed and had him lead the way. Traveling through the moist land was difficult, but they still managed to cover nearly half of the swamp. Through luck, they found a more solid patch of land to rest upon.

Eragon shook Lena awake, leaving camp about an hour later. By the end of the day, they were pleased to find themselves out of the marshes and away from the mosquitoes and smell. Saphira could not see any signs that the Urgals were following them or that they were nearby, but they lit no fire that night, despite the chill in the air. At dinner Eragon commented on the weather. "Given how far south we are, you'd think the air would be warmer."

Murtagh grunted and took a bite of his stale bread.

"Weather is always changing. I am sure a storm is brewing somewhere, sending us a cold front. Since the air is milder here the land would receive rain instead of snow like up north," Lena said.

Murtagh raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, her knowledge astounding him once more. He wanted to know who had been her teacher for he, or she, had taught her well. In fact, he openly admitted that she had more knowledge than him and he had grown up among the elite of Alagaesia!

"Snow, now there is something I do not miss. Each winter my cousin and I had to dig ourselves out, a task that nearly left me with frostbite." Eragon over exaggerated.

Lena laughed. "I know what you mean. I had to do the same, though, I still enjoyed winter. The snowball fights made it all worth it"

"What about you, Murtagh. Did it snow where you grew up?" Eragon asked, his curiosity growing.

The man nodded. "Aye, I had snow where I grew up. Like you, I never liked it much."

"Seriously? You two are hopeless; are you suggesting that I am the only true northerner here?"

"No, there is Saphira. She does not mind the cold." Saphira hummed in approval.

"Right, well, in that case, if we ever come across snow, I will fly upon Saphira and bombard you two with snowballs." Her comment made the men chuckle. Saphira became amused as well, a plume of smoke erupting from her nostrils.

"That is hardly fair…" Eragon began only to get cut off.

"Hey, you have magic, so you are not completely helpless."

She is right about that. You could launch multiple snowballs at once and with a more accuracy. Saphira said to Eragon only.

Lena turned to Murtagh and became stumped. "You might be helpless though…" she giggled.

Murtagh narrowed his eyes and said, "You may be surprised. I have a few tricks up my sleeve that you do not know about."

Fascinated, Lena continued to taunt him. "Really? Like running away screaming as snowball after snowball pelts your head."