Jeod smiled. “It seems that it is my turn to help you. My house is yours, of course. Do you have another name while you are here?”
“Yes,” said Brom, “I’m Neal, and the boy is Evan.”
“Eragon,” said Jeod thoughtfully. “You have a unique name. Few have ever been named after the first Rider. In my life I’ve read about only three people who were called such.” Eragon was startled that Jeod knew the origin of his name.
Brom looked at Eragon. “Could you go check on the horses and make sure they’re all right? I don’t think I tied Snowfire to the ring tightly enough.”
They’re trying to hide something from me. The moment I leave they’re going to talk about it.Eragon shoved himself out of the chair and left the room, slamming the door shut. Snowfire had not moved; the knot that held him was fine. Scratching the horses’ necks, Eragon leaned sullenly against the castle wall.
It’s not fair,he complained to himself.If only I could hear what they are saying. He jolted upright, electrified. Brom had once taught him some words that would enhance his hearing.Keen ears aren’t exactly what I want, but I should be able to make the words work. After all, look what I could do with brisingr!
He concentrated intensely and reached for his power. Once it was within his grasp, he said, “Thverr stenr un atra eka hórna!” and imbued the words with his will. As the power rushed out of him, he heard a faint whisper in his ears, but nothing more. Disappointed, he sank back, then started as Jeod said, “—and I’ve been doing that for almost eight years now.”
Eragon looked around. No one was there except for a few guards standing against the far wall of the keep. Grinning, he sat on the courtyard and closed his eyes.
“I never expected you to become a merchant,” said Brom. “After all the time you spent in books. And finding the passageway in that manner! What made you take up trading instead of remaining a scholar?”
“After Gil’ead, I didn’t have much taste for sitting in musty rooms and reading scrolls. I decided to help Ajihad as best I could, but I’m no warrior. My father was a merchant as well — you may remember that. He helped me get started. However, the bulk of my business is nothing more than a front to get goods into Surda.”
“But I take it that things have been going badly,” said Brom.
“Yes, none of the shipments have gotten through lately, and Tronjheim is running low on supplies. Somehow the Empire — at least I think it’s them — has discovered those of us who have been helping to support Tronjheim. But I’m still not convinced that it’s the Empire. No one sees any soldiers. I don’t understand it. Perhaps Galbatorix hired mercenaries to harass us.”
“I heard that you lost a ship recently.”
“The last one I owned,” answered Jeod bitterly. “Every man on it was loyal and brave. I doubt I’ll ever see them again. . The only option I have left is to send caravans to Surda or Gil’ead — which I know won’t get there, no matter how many guards I hire — or charter someone else’s ship to carry the goods. But no one will take them now.”
“How many merchants have been helping you?” asked Brom.
“Oh, a good number up and down the seaboard. All of them have been plagued by the same troubles. I know what you are thinking; I’ve pondered it many a night myself, but I cannot bear the thought of a traitor with that much knowledge and power. If there is one, we’re all in jeopardy. You should return to Tronjheim.”
“And take Eragon there?” interrupted Brom. “They’d tear him apart. It’s the worst place he could be right now. Maybe in a few months or, even better, a year. Can you imagine how the dwarves will react? Everyone will be trying to influence him, especially Islanzadi. He and Saphira won’t be safe in Tronjheim until I at least get them through tuatha du orothrim.”
Dwarves!thought Eragon excitedly.Where is this Tronjheim? And why did he tell Jeod about Saphira? He shouldn’t have done that without asking me!
“Still, I have a feeling that they are in need of your power and wisdom.”
“Wisdom,” snorted Brom. “I’m just what you said earlier — a crotchety old man.”
“Many would disagree.”
“Let them. I’ve no need to explain myself. No, Ajihad will have to get along without me. What I’m doing now is much more important. But the prospect of a traitor raises troubling questions. I wonder if that’s how the Empire knew where to be. . ” His voice trailed off.
“And I wonder why I haven’t been contacted about this,” said Jeod.
“Maybe they tried. But if there’s a traitor. .” Brom paused. “I have to send word to Ajihad. Do you have a messenger you can trust?”
“I think so,” said Jeod. “It depends on where he would have to go.”
“I don’t know,” said Brom. “I’ve been isolated so long, my contacts have probably died or forgotten me. Could you send him to whoever receives your shipments?”
“Yes, but it’ll be risky.”
“What isn’t these days? How soon can he leave?”
“He can go in the morning. I’ll send him to Gil’ead. It will be faster,” said Jeod. “What can he take to convince Ajihad the message comes from you?”
“Here, give your man my ring. And tell him that if he loses it, I’ll personally tear his liver out. It was given to me by the queen.”
“Aren’t you cheery,” commented Jeod.
Brom grunted. After a long silence he said, “We’d better go out and join Eragon. I get worried when he’s alone. That boy has an unnatural propensity for being wherever there’s trouble.”
“Are you surprised?”
“Not really.”
Eragon heard chairs being pushed back. He quickly pulled his mind away and opened his eyes. “What’s going on?” he muttered to himself.Jeod and other traders are in trouble for helping people the Empire doesn’t favor. Brom found something in Gil’ead and went to Carvahall to hide. What could be so important that he would let his own friend think he was dead for nearly twenty years? He mentioned a queen — when there aren’t any queens in the known kingdoms — and dwarves, who, as he himself told me, disappeared underground long ago.
He wanted answers! But he would not confront Brom now and risk jeopardizing their mission. No, he would wait until they left Teirm, and then he would persist until the old man explained his secrets. Eragon’s thoughts were still whirling when the door opened.
“Were the horses all right?” asked Brom.
“Fine,” said Eragon. They untied the horses and left the castle.
As they reentered the main body of Teirm, Brom said, “So, Jeod, you finally got married. And,” he winked slyly, “to a lovely young woman. Congratulations.”
Jeod did not seem happy with the compliment. He hunched his shoulders and stared down at the street. “Whether congratulations are in order is debatable right now. Helen isn’t very happy.”
“Why? What does she want?” asked Brom.
“The usual,” said Jeod with a resigned shrug. “A good home, happy children, food on the table, and pleasant company. The problem is that she comes from a wealthy family; her father has invested heavily in my business. If I keep suffering these losses, there won’t be enough money for her to live the way she’s used to.”
Jeod continued, “But please, my troubles are not your troubles. A host should never bother his guests with his own concerns. While you are in my house, I will let nothing more than an over-full stomach disturb you.”
“Thank you,” said Brom. “We appreciate the hospitality. Our travels have long been without comforts of any kind. Do you happen to know where we could find an inexpensive shop? All this riding has worn out our clothes.”
“Of course. That’s my job,” said Jeod, lightening up. He talked eagerly about prices and stores until his house was in sight. Then he asked, “Would you mind if we went somewhere else to eat? It might be awkward if you came in right now.”
“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” said Brom.
Jeod looked relieved. “Thanks. Let’s leave your horses in my stable.”
They did as he suggested, then followed him to a large tavern. Unlike the Green Chestnut, this one was loud, clean, and full of boisterous people. When the main course arrived — a stuffed suckling pig — Eragon eagerly dug into the meat, but he especially savored the potatoes, carrots, turnips, and sweet apples that accompanied it. It had been a long time since he had eaten much more than wild game.
They lingered over the meal for hours as Brom and Jeod swapped stories. Eragon did not mind. He was warm, a lively tune jangled in the background, and there was more than enough food. The spirited tavern babble fell pleasantly on his ears.