“I’m not sure.”And I don’t want to think about it either. He rolled up his blankets and tied them to Cadoc’s saddlebags. His ribs hurt. Murtagh went to prepare the rabbits. As Eragon shifted things in his bags, he uncovered Zar’roc. The red sheath glinted brightly. He took out the sword . . . weighed it in his hands.

He had never carried Zar’roc nor used it in combat—except when he and Brom had sparred—because he had not wanted people to see it. That concerned Eragon no more. The Ra’zac had seemed surprised and frightened by the sword; that was more than enough reason for him to wear it. With a shudder he pulled off his bow and belted on Zar’roc.From this moment on, I’ll live by the sword. Let the whole world see what I am. I have no fear. I am a Rider now, fully and completely.

He sorted through Brom’s bags but found only clothes, a few odd items, and a small pouch of coins. Eragon took the map of Alagaësia and put the bags away, then crouched by the fire. Murtagh’s eyes narrowed as he looked up from the rabbit he was skinning. “That sword. May I see it?” he asked, wiping his hands.

Eragon hesitated, reluctant to relinquish the weapon for even a moment, then nodded. Murtagh examined the symbol on the blade intently. His face darkened. “Where did you get this?”

“Brom gave it to me. Why?”

Murtagh shoved the sword back and crossed his arms angrily. He was breathing hard. “That sword,” he said with emotion, “was once as well known as its owner. The last Rider to carry it was Morzan—a brutal, savage man. I thought you were a foe of the Empire, yet here I find you bearing one of the Forsworn’s bloody swords!”

Eragon stared at Zar’roc with shock. He realized that Brom must have taken it from Morzan after they fought in Gil’ead. “Brom never told me where it came from,” he said truthfully. “I had no idea it was Morzan’s.”

“He never told you?” asked Murtagh, a note of disbelief in his voice. Eragon shook his head. “That’s strange. I can think of no reason for him to have concealed it.”

“Neither can I. But then, he kept many secrets,” said Eragon. It felt unsettling to hold the sword of the man who had betrayed the Riders to Galbatorix.This blade probably killed many Riders in its time, he thought with revulsion.And worse, dragons! “Even so, I’m going to carry it. I don’t have a sword of my own. Until such time as I get one, I’ll use Zar’roc.”

Murtagh flinched as Eragon said the name. “It’s your choice,” he said. He returned to skinning, keeping his gaze focused downward.

When the meal was ready, Eragon ate slowly, though he was quite hungry. The hot food made him feel better. As they scraped out their bowls, he said, “I have to sell my horse.”

“Why not Brom’s?” asked Murtagh. He seemed to have gotten over his bad temper.

“Snowfire? Because Brom promised to take care of him. Since he . . . isn’t around, I’ll do it for him.”

Murtagh set his bowl on his lap. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure we can find a buyer in some town or village.”

“We?” asked Eragon.

Murtagh looked at him sideways in a calculating way. “You won’t want to stay here for much longer. If the Ra’zac are nearby, Brom’s tomb will be like a beacon for them.” Eragon had not thought of that. “And your ribs are going to take time to heal. I know you can defend yourself with magic, but you need a companion who can lift things and use a sword. I’m asking to travel with you, at least for the time being. But I must warn you, the Empire is searching for me. There’ll be blood over it eventually.”

Eragon laughed weakly and found himself crying because it hurt so much. Once his breath was back, he said, “I don’t care if the entire army is searching for you. You’re right. I do need help. I would be glad to have you along, though I have to talk to Saphira about it. But I have to warnyou, Galbatorix justmight send the entire army after me. You won’t be any safer with Saphira and me than if you were on your own.”

“I know that,” said Murtagh with a quick grin. “But all the same, it won’t stop me.”

“Good.” Eragon smiled with gratitude.

While they spoke, Saphira crawled into the cave and greeted Eragon. She was glad to see him, but there was deep sadness in her thoughts and words. She laid her big blue head on the floor and asked,Are you well again?

Not quite.

I miss the old one.

As do I . . . I never suspected that he was a Rider. Brom! He really was an old man—as old as the Forsworn. Everything he taught me about magic he must have learned from the Riders themselves.

Saphira shifted slightly.I knew what he was the moment he touched me at your farm.

And you didn’t tell me? Why?

He asked me not to, she said simply.

Eragon decided not to make an issue of it. Saphira never meant to hurt him. Brom kept more than that secret,he told her, then explained about Zar’roc and Murtagh’s reaction to it.I understand now why Brom didn’t explain Zar’roc’s origins when he gave it to me. If he had, I probably would have run away from him at the first opportunity.

You would do well to rid yourself of that sword,she said with distaste.I know it’s a peerless weapon, but you would be better off with a normal blade rather than Morzan’s butchery tool.

Perhaps. Saphira, where does our path go from here? Murtagh offered to come with us. I don’t know his past, but he seems honest enough. Should we go to the Varden now? Only I don’t know how to find them. Brom never told us.