There was a tense pause as the rest of them leapt up as well, Dance merely unfolding his arms with his eyelights flaring dangerously.
"It is Roran, isn't it?" Jeod spoke softly, not at all afraid of their display.
"How did you guess?" Hissed the other.

"Because Brom brought Eragon here, and you look like your cousin. When I saw your poster with Eragon's, I realized that the Empire tried to capture you and that you escaped. Although, in all my imaginings, I never suspected that you took the rest of Carvahall with you, as well as meeting and becoming allies with a skeleton."

Roran fell back into his chair. "Eragon was here?"
"Aye. And Saphira, too."
"Saphira?"
Once more did Jeod seem surprised. "You don't know, then?"
"Know what?"
The merchant peered at him for a while.

"I think the time has come to drop our pretenses, Roran Garrowsson, and talk openly and without deception. I can answer many of the questions you must have- such as why the Empire is pursuing you- but in return, I need to know the reason you came to Teirm... the real reason."
"And why should we trust you?" Dance demanded.
"You could be working for Galbatorix, you could." Loring added, nodding to the skeleton.

"I was Brom's friend for over twenty years, before he was a storyteller in Carvahall, and I did my best to help him and Eragon when they were under my roof. But since neither are here to vouch for me, I place my life in your hands, to do with as you wish. I could shout for help, but I won't. Nor will I fight you. All I ask is that you tell me your story and hear my own. Then you can decide for yourself what course of action is proper. You're in no immediate danger, so what harm is there in talking?"

Birgit flicked her chin for Roran's attention. "He could be trying to save his hide."
"Maybe. But we have to find out whatever it is he knows." Roran stood and started dragging his chair towards the door. Dance instead took it with blue magic and pressed it against the door. Roran nodded at him and sat down, this barring the entrance and addressing Jeod. "All right. You want to talk? Then let us talk, you and I."
"It would be best if you go first."
"If I do, and we're not satisfied by your answers afterward, we'll have to kill you."
The merchant crossed his arms. "So be it."
Roran blinked. "So be it."

And thus did Roran begin telling his tale, beginning with the arrival of the soldiers to the ambush in which he rescued Alter, to Dance's arrival and Sloan's betrayal, Dance's attempt to fight the Ra'zac's mounts singlehandedly and Alter's feat of saving his life, then his convincing of the villagers to flee and the miseries of the journey to Teirm, meeting Beats and Kin on the way. He ended his story with a harsh stare.

"By the Lost Kings!" Jeod gasped. "That's the most extraordinary tale. Extraordinary! To think you've managed to thwart Galbatorix and that right now the entire village of Carvahall is hiding outside one of the Empire's largest cities and the king doesn't even know it...." He shook his head, grinning in amazement.
"Aye, that's our position." Loring snapped. "And it's precarious at best, so you'd better explain well and good why we should risk letting you live."
"It places me in as much-"

The door rattled, someone trying to get in, which was precedent to pounding. A female voice called out furiously. "Jeod! Let me in, Jeod! You can't hide in that cave of yours."
"May I?" He whispered.

Roran snapped his fingers and Nolfavrell tossed him his knife, which he caught and darted around the table to press its flat to the merchant's throat. "Make her leave."
Jeod called out. "I can't talk now; I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"Liar! You don't have any business. You're bankrupt! Come out and face me, you coward! Are you a man or not that you won't even look your wife in the eye?" She paused, awaiting a reply. Then she shrieked. "Coward! You're a gutless rat, a filthy, yellow-bellied sheep-biter without the common sense to run a meat stall, much less a shipping company. My father would have never lost so much money!"
"Be still, woman!" Jeod barked, and she fell silent.
"Our fortunes might be about to change for the better if you but have the sense to restrain your tongue and not rail on like a fishmonger's wife."

There was a pause, then a distant, spiteful response.
"I shall wait upon your pleasure in the dining room, dear husband, and unless you choose to attend me by the evening meal and explain yourself, then I shall leave this accursed house, never to return." She could be heard walking away.

When she had left, Roran backed away, Jeod rubbing his neck. "If we don't reach an understanding, you'd better kill me; it'd be easier than explaining to Helen that I shouted at her for naught."
"You have my sympathy, Longshanks." Loring muttered.

"It's not her fault... not really. She just doesn't understand why so much misfortune has befallen us." He sighed. "Perhaps it's my fault for not daring to tell her."
"Tell her what?" Nolfavrell chirped.
"That I'm an agent for the Varden."
He hesitated at their lost expressions.

"Perhaps I should start from the beginning. Roran, have you heard rumors in the past few months of an existence of a new Rider and skeletons that oppose Galbatorix?"
"Mutterings here and there, but nothing I'd give credence to."
Jeod paused. "I don't know how else to say this, Roran... but there is a new Rider in Alagaësia, and it's your cousin, Eragon. The stone he found in the Spine was actually a dragon egg I helped the Varden steal from Galbatorix years ago. The dragon hatched for Eragon and he named her Saphira. That is why the Ra'zac first came to Palancar Valley. They returned because Eragon had become a formidable enemy of the Empire and Galbatorix hoped that by capturing you, they could bring Eragon to bay."

Roran's eyes bulged for a moment, then he exploded into violent, hysterical laughter, booming as he howled, clutching his sides as he did so, laughing for several minutes as he cried, wiping his eyes. Dance scooted away from him, shivers running down his spine at the hysterics.
Eventually he calmed down, flashing a toothy grin at Jeod.
"It fits the facts; I'll give you that. But so do half a dozen other explanations I've thought of."

Birgit spoke up. "If Eragon's stone was a dragon egg, then where did it come from?"
"Ah." Jeod leaned back in his chair. "Now there's an affair I'm well acquainted with...." He began weaving a story, one Dance felt disconnected from as he had nothing to do with it, the man going on about how Brom had once been a Rider, losing his dragon to the war and continuing on to create and establish the Varden. How Jeod had learned of a secret passage into Urû'baen, how the Varden had arranged the thievery of the last three dragon eggs, but only one egg was recovered after Brom fought and slew Morzan himself. He went on about how an agreement was made to ferry the egg between the elves and the Varden, where the egg's carriers had been ambushed by a Shade.

And still he went on, Roran listening more carefully as Jeod spoke of Eragon finding the egg in the Spine and raising the hatchling in the forest near the farm he and Roran had lived in.

Even more as Jeod explained why Garrow, Roran's father, had died due to being tortured for information on the whereabouts of the egg or dragon, which he knew nothing about.

"What was he thinking?!" Roran spat. Jeod regarded him softly. "I doubt Eragon knew himself. Riders and their dragons are bound together so closely, it's often hard to differentiate one from the other. Eragon could have no more harmed Saphira than he could have sawed off his own leg."

"He could have. Because of him, I've had to do things just as painful, and I know- he could have."
"You have a right to feel as you do, but don't forget that the reason Eragon left Palancar Valley was to protect you and all who remained. I believe it was an extremely hard choice for him to make. From his point of view, he sacrificed himself to ensure your safety and to avenge your father. And while leaving may not have had the desired effect, things would have certainly turned out far worse if Eragon had stayed."

Roran made no further comment as Jeod continued, except when he described why Brom and Eragon had visited Teirm; so they could see shipping manifests to discover the location of the Ra'zac's hideout.
"And did they?"
"We did indeed."
"Well, where are they, then? For goodness' sake, man, say it; you know how important this is to me!"
"It seemed apparent from the records- and I later had a message from the Varden that Eragon's own account confirmed this- that the Ra'zac's den is in the formation known as Helgrind, by Dras-Leona."

Roran's hand tightened on his hammer until his knuckles turned white, and a fervent desire displayed on his haunted face.
"It can't be done, Roran." Jeod explained.
His expression blanked. "What?"

"No one man can take Helgrind. It's a solid, bare, black mountain of stone that's impossible to climb. Consider the Ra'zac's foul steeds; it seems likely they would have an eyrie near the top of Helgrind rather than bed near the ground, where they are most vulnerable. How, then, would you reach them? And if you could, do you really believe that you can defeat both the Ra'zac and their two steeds, if not more? I have no doubt you are a fearsome warrior- after all, you and Eragon share blood- but these are foes beyond any normal human."

Roran shook his head wildly. "I can't abandon Katrina. It may be futile, but I must try to free her, even if it may cost me my life."
"And kill yourself by rushing them blindly? Dude, I tried that already." Dance scoffed. "I would've died without Alter."
Jeod gestured at him. "He speaks true. If I may offer a bit of advice: try and reach Surda as you've planned. Once there, I'm sure you can enlist Eragon's help. Even the Ra'zac cannot match a Rider in open combat."

Stronghammer considered this carefully, then gestured at the merchant. "Continue your account. Let us hear the rest of this sorry play before the day grows much older."
Jeod took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you is going to sound even more fantastical, especially to you, skeleton."
"Why me?"
"Well, I'm about to tell you, aren't I?"
Both Sans and the leader of Carvahall grumbled before letting him continue.

He described Brom's death and the sudden arrival of skeletons, a large group of them, as they joined Eragon and Saphira, technically claiming the new Rider and dragon as their prisoners alongside Murtaugh, son of Morzan, though their relationship was most certainly not that of captors and captives. Rather, they became the Rider's guardians. He skipped describing the Multiverse after Dance explained that they all were already aware and instead went straight to talking about balances. How the Multiverse was based off of multiple balances, and these skeletons were of unfortunate pasts and forced to keep it when they had long since lost their drive to do so. Jeod explained that they had become ostracized and hated by the many worlds when they had already regained a large part of their sanity, though how it was lost, he himself did not know.

"I've never heard of any group like this." Dance objected.
"Except I have reason to believe that you have. They were keeping your Multiverse alive, and based on their accounts the reason skeletons and monsters- for yes, other monsters have been appearing- are here is because your Multiverse is beginning to collapse without their protection."

Dance leaned forward. "Who?"
"Currently they have chosen to call themselves the Wyrdvrangr or Eldjierdar, and I'm not at liberty to reveal their identities as it was requested by both their king and leader to not have their real names spread, as they knew it would show doubt in the Varden's cause in monsters they are trying to recruit, to prevent Galbatorix from getting his hands on them first."
"You're not in any position to keep secrets, Longshanks." Loring warned.

Jeod sighed. "You are unfortunately correct. If you must know, then know this first: the skeleton you know as Blue has been with them since the beginning, and I hear he is not only quite the formidable warrior, but is kind at heart."

"Blueberry is known for that much, yes." Dance leaned back a little, still cautious. Jeod once again sighed. "The skeletons that have been protecting Eragon and Saphira alongside Blue have been known as the Bad Sanses where you are from."
"What." Dance deadpanned, eyelights gone.

Jeod continued. "I believe they were afraid of that. According to their accounts and that of their relatives found in the Varden, they were forced to protect this magical balance of emotion, of Negativity, and destruction. I do not know of this emotional balance, but it was heavily stressed by the god known as Error, his family and friends that the Multiverse has a limited amount of space in which worlds could be created by his counterpart, the apparently Soulless and ignorant God of Creation."
"Soulless! That's impossible!"
"Don't ask me."
"This is insane." Dance argued.
"May I continue?"
"You're completely nuts."
"May I continue?" Jeod repeated, this time facing Roran.
"You may." He answered, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Thank you."

Dance scoffed and scooted backwards, now just as skeptical as the rest of the villagers present.
Jeod explained how the Bad Sanses had been thrown into a mysterious place between their realms known as the Void, and that they attached themselves to Eragon as they hunted down the Varden themselves. He described how Eragon was captured at Gil'ead and rescued alongside the only remaining elf courier, where they fled through the Hadarac Desert and to a place known as Farthen Dûr, where a great battle between the Varden, dwarves and Urgals took place and real evil skeletons of the Multiverse made their appearance alongside a captured victim that was a hybrid of dragons and skeletons known as GB. Jeod told of how the Varden left the Beor Mountains for Surda with the Eldjierdar, a faction of monsters that arose out of Error and his apparent family. He told of how the rest went with Eragon to the elves, gaining new additions in a real dragon from the Multiverse that was also a skeleton and a Sans with bird wings. Now the Wyrdvrangr half with those new additions and Eragon and Saphira were somewhere in Du Weldenvarden, learning the secrets of magic that the elves knew.

He wrapped up his tale with the discovery of another, as of yet unknown skeleton in Surda that joined the Eldjierdar.

They all gathered in the opposite end of the room to discuss matters, Jeod waiting patiently.
Loring spoke first. "I can't tell whether he's lying or not, but any man who can weave a yarn like that at knifepoint deserves to live. A new Rider! And Eragon to boot!" He shook his head as Dance remained silent, processing what he'd learned. Roran saw this and instead asked Birgit's opinion.

"I don't know. It's so outlandish.... But it must be true. Another Rider is the only thing that would spur the Empire to pursue us so fiercely."

"Aye." Loring nodded eagerly. "I don't know about these mysterious 'Bad Sanses', but I know this: We've been entangled in far more momentous events than we realized. A new Rider. Just think about it! The old order is about to be washed away, I tell you.... You were right all along, Roran."

"Nolfavrell?"
The youth glanced down shyly as he thought, biting his lip. "Jeod seems honest enough. I think we can trust him."
Roran finally faced Dance. "Well? You know most of these skeletons."
He was hesitant in his reply.

"I don't know. But I have no idea where he could have gotten his information from, but he openly said all that.. while his life was being threatened. He took that risk. I don't know how he can lie that well under that kind of pressure." He gazed back at the merchant. "He looks to be telling the truth.... That scares me."
"Do you believe him?" Roran asked.
"I don't know what to believe."
"Alright, then." Roran turned around and headed back to Jeod, leaning on his knuckles as he stared him in the eyes.

"Two last questions, Longshanks. What do Brom and Eragon look like? And how did you recognize Gertrude's name?"

"I knew of Gertrude because Brom mentioned that he left a letter for you in her care. As for what they looked like: Brom stood a bit shorter than me. He had a thick beard, a hooked nose, and he carried a carved staff with him. And I dare say he was rather irritable sometimes." Roran nodded. Jeod went on.

"Eragon was... young. Brown hair, brown eyes, with a scar on his wrist, and he never stopped asking questions." Stronghammer nodded again, then put away his hammer and grabbed his chair again, where everyone reseated themselves around the table.

"What now, Jeod? Can you help us? I know you're in a difficult situation, but we... we are desperate and have no one else to turn to. As an agent of the Varden, can you guarantee us the Varden's protection? We are willing to serve them if they'll shield us from Galbatorix's wrath."

"The Varden," Jeod began. "Would be more than happy to have you. More than happy. I suspect you already guessed that. As for help..." He dragged his hand over his face thoughtfully as he stared at the shelves. "I've been aware for almost a year that my true identity- as well as that if many other merchants here and elsewhere who have assisted the Varden- was betrayed to the Empire. Because of that, I haven't dared flee to Surda. If I tried, the Empire would arrest me, and then who knows what horrors I'd be in for? I've had to watch the gradual destruction of my business without being able to take any action to oppose or escape it. What's worse, now that I cannot ship anything to the Varden and they dare not send envoys to me, I feared that Lord Risthart would have me clapped in irons and dragged off to the Empire. I've expected it every day since I declared bankruptcy."

"Perhaps," Birgit offered. "They want you to flee so they can capture whoever else you bring with you." Here he smiled. "Perhaps. But now that you are here, I have a means to leave that they never anticipated."
"Then you have a plan?" Loring asked.
A wild excitement spread across Jeod's features. "Oh yes, I have a plan. Did the five of you see the ship Dragon Wing moored at port?"
"Aye." Roran answered.

"The Dragon Wing is owned by the Blackmoor Shipping Company, a front for the Empire. They handle supplies for the army, which has mobilized to an alarming degree recently, conscripting soldiers among the peasants and commandeering horses, asses, and oxen." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what it indicates, but it's possible Galbatorix means to march on Surda. In any case, the Dragon Wing is to sail for Feinster within the week. She's the finest ship ever built, from a new design by master shipwright Kinnell."
"And you want to pirate her." Roran gathered.
"Holy crap." Dance muttered.

"I do. Not only to spite the Empire or because the Dragon Wing is reputed to be the fastest jury-rigged ship of her tonnage, but because she's already fully provisioned for a long voyage. And since the cargo is food, we'd have enough for a whole village."

Loring barked with strained laughter. "I 'ope you can sail her yourself, Longshanks, 'cause not one of us knows how to handle anything larger than a barge."

"A few men from the crews of my ships are still in Teirm. They're in the same position as I am, unable to fight or flee. I'm confident they'll jump at the chance to get to Surda. They can teach you what to do on the Dragon Wing. It won't be easy, but I don't see much choice in the matter."

Dance blinked as Roran grinned devilishly, Birgit speaking up.
"You mentioned that in the past year none of your ships- nor those from other merchants who serve the Varden- have reached their destination. Why, then, should this mission succeed when so many have failed?"

Jeod leapt at the chance to speak. "Because surprise is on our side. The law requires merchant ships to submit their itinerary for approval with the port authority at least two weeks before departure. It takes a great deal of time to prepare a ship for launch, so if we leave without warning, it could be a week or more before Galbatorix can launch intercept vessels. If luck is with us, we won't see so much as the topmast of our pursuers. So, if you are willing to attempt this enterprise, this is what we must do...."