Sja Fram [Inheritance Cycle | Eragon Fanfiction]

Chapter XXXVII: Istal's Armour

When we arrived back in the dragonhold, a dwarf was waiting. After bowing and muttering, "Agretlam," the dwarf said with a thick accent, "Good. Awake. Knurla Orik waits for you." He bowed again and scurried away.

I moved over to where a small pile of belongings had been placed. I drew out my sword and buckled the sheath. Across from me, Eragon did the same with Zar'roc. We mounted Saphira and she flew us out of Tronjheim.

As soon as we had landed by one of Tronjheim's gates, Orik ran to Saphira's side. "My king, Hrothgar, wishes to see both of you, Eragon, Saphira. Dismount quickly. We must hurry. Umaroth, will you be fine to wander for now?"

I nodded, "I will go to the stables. I want to check on the horses. I can ask anyone for guidance to get back to the dragonhold."

"We may be in the library later, we can meet you there," Orik grumbled before leading Eragon and Saphira away.

I managed to score a quick meal from the kitchens, before heading to where I believed the stables were. After getting to the stables, I entered, looking for someone who looked like they were in charge. Near one of the stables, a broad man stood, quickly talking to one of the stable hands and gesturing to the horse behind him.

I walked over. "Are you in charge of the stables?" I asked once the stable hand had hurried off. The man nodded, looking down at me, and I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. "I was wondering about three horses that came here recently. A brown stallion, a dapple grey stallion, and a grey stallion. Most of them would look like warhorses."

"The Dragon Rider's horses?"

"Not his, but that came with him, yes," I responded.

"The brown stallion is annoying," the man said. "Eis!"

A teenager, maybe a year older than me, scurried over with a worried expression. "What is it stable master?"

"Show this lad to the horses we put in the fourth paddock. Make sure he gets everything he needs, you are excused from your duties for now."

"Yes stable master, this way sir," Eis said, leading me out of the stables and toward the paddocks.

"My name's Umaroth," I said. "I plan on giving my horse a wash; are there any brushes or anything I can use?"

Eis nodded. "Wait here," he said before he moved back into the stables. He returned carrying a small bag of brushes. "There's horse soap in here as well, the lead ropes will be out on the paddock fence. The horses still have their headcollars on."

"Thanks," I said.

"Which horse is your one?"

"The brown stallion, he's called Istal," I replied, as we stopped in front of a gate leading to one of the paddocks.

"Your horse was a terror. Is he not used to new people?" Eis asked, his face tightening at the mention of Istal.

I grinned slightly, "I've always owned him. He's well trained – and a warhorse."

"He's in there," Eis pointed. "You can get him yourself. He's already bitten two other people and left bruises."

I went through the gate and whistled. I heard hoof beats and spotted Istal cantering up from the other end of the paddock. He neighed as he approached, charging at me quickly.

"Watch out, he's not going to stop!" Eis called out, clearly worried about my safety.

I didn't move and Istal slid to a halt in front of me before rearing. "Show off," I murmured to him when he came back down onto four legs. He snorted and nudged my arm. I scratched his forehead and felt grime get stuck underneath my fingernails.