Morning came, and everyone was bone-tired. A few of them had taken turns sleeping on one another's Blasters, but for the most part they were just weary.

Saphira had to fly off to hunt, Horror going with her as he usually did. Nightmare refrained from mentioning what happened last night. Either Horror didn't want to talk about it or he didn't remember. Probably forgot.

They stopped at a pond so the horses could drink. All the Inhumans present suddenly tensed, smelling or hearing something nearby. The skeletons threw their hoods up as they didn't want to attract too much unnecessary attention. Then they spotted the horsemen. There were twenty of them, a few leagues off.

The small company had time to hide their faces and anything that immediately gave away their strange nature as well as toss a blanket over Arya and ready a few mundane weapons. Saphira and Horror were heading back, in case they were needed.

The man with the mace and sorrel horse signaled, and the small group was surrounded by whooping men with rusty and poorly kept weapons. Four archers trained their bows at them.

Everyone in the company was anxious, begging for the strangers to make one wrong move so they could kill them or just get out of there.
When they were surrounded, the leader crossed his arms and examined the team.

"Well, this is quite the fantastic haul, boys! Each one of them is in tip top shape, too! We didn't even have to shoot them! Grieg will be beyond pleased." The men chuckled. Eragon and Murtaugh were frowning, but all the skeletons were grinning evilly, waiting for Nightmare to let them loose.

"Now as for you eight," the leader addressed the gang and humans.
"If you would be so good as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers for my men." Archers grinned suggestively as they indicated their bows.

Murtaugh shifted his sword as Error snickered, Nightmare letting out his own dark chuckle.
"Who are you and what do you want? We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us." Killer stepped in closer, his smile unnaturally wide as it was hidden under a hood.

"Oh, I have every right. And as for my name, slaves do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten."

Nightmare burst out laughing, his baritone voice carrying across the hills as his boys joined in, a chorus of maniacal laughter. He pulled down his hood, revealing his unsettling, goop covered form.
The change in attitude was subtle, but immediate.

"Enough of that." The mace-wielder muttered nervously, gesturing at one of the archers. Said bowman let an arrow fly, directly at Nightmare, only for it to be snatched out of the air by a tentacle.

He shed his cloak entirely, revealing his other tentacles as they spilled out and waved. Taking it as a sign to do the same, his team all removed their robes in response, drinking in the confusion and fear emanating from the slavers.

"I don't think you've met skeletons before." Nightmare spoke the obvious, relishing in the rising fear for once in a long time, it felt like.

"Skeletons?" One of the archers questioned.
"Oh yes. We are beings of magic whereas you are filthy humans of flesh and blood." Nightmare went on casually.

He faced his boys. "Who wants to put up a fine display for these foolhardy cowards?" Killer and Dust both pushed each other down while trying to call dibs, but then a voice outside the ring rasped.
"How about I take care of 'em, Boss?"

Several humans flinched, horses parting to reveal Horror, shooting his best creepy smile as he twirled his axe and leaned on it.
"Is that a hole in his head?!" A random voice choked out. That decided it.

"Why yes! Just attack whoever you see fit, but let the runners flee."
"Wait, Nightmare, can we maybe-" Blue was interrupted by the lead human.
"Excuse me, who are you to think you can pit a single cripple against twenty men?"

Nightmare just looked at him, flicking a tendril at Horror as Murtaugh suddenly had the urge to put his elbow in the slaver's face.
Horror took that moment to effortlessly decapitate one of the archers, pausing to lick blood off his fingers and teleporting several feet to the side as arrows sprouted from the ground where he formerly stood.

As the leader fell off his horse, the rest of the slavers froze at what just happened in the span of ten seconds.
Then they all ran.

Dust and Killer chased after them, Horror busy removing the arm of one of the slower riders and gnawing on it; then remembered he was traveling with humans and that probably wasn't a good idea.

Murtaugh marched after the fallen leader while Nightmare called his boys back, Error laughing at the fear in those eyes and the excitement of the murderers. Blueberry pouted, slapping the glitch lightly in an effort to make him stop laughing at other's misfortune.

Before Eragon could protest, Murtaugh drew his sword and imitated a guillotine. He removed that burden of a head from the man's shoulders.

Saphira landed, and sniffed the head like she was going to eat it, then chose otherwise. Eragon yelled furiously at Murtaugh now.
"Why did you kill him?!"
"I don't see why you're so upset-"
"Upset!" He exploded. "I'm well past that! Did it even occur to you that we could just leave him here and continue on our way? No! Instead you turn into an executioner and chop off his head. He was defenseless!"

Murtaugh seemed confused. Frankly, so did most of everyone there.
"Well, we couldn't keep him around- he was dangerous. The others ran off… without a horse he wouldn't have made it far. I didn't want the Urgals to find him and learn about the gang and Arya. So I thought it would-" "But to kill him?"
"I'm only trying to stay alive." Murtaugh said flatly, Horror nodding along and muttering Amen. "No stranger's life is more important than my own."

"But you can't indulge in wonton violence. Where is your empathy?"
"Empathy? Empathy? What empathy can I afford my enemies? Shall I dither about whether to defend myself because it will cause someone pain? If that is the case, I would have died years ago! You must be willing to protect yourself and what you cherish, no matter the cost."
Eragon shoved Zar'roc back in it's sheath, royally pissed. "You can justify any atrocity with that reasoning."

"Do you think I enjoy this?!" Murtaugh suddenly yelled, his face turning red. "My life has been threatened from the day I was born! All of my waking hours have been spent avoiding danger in one form or another. And sleep never comes easily because I always worry if I'll live to see the next dawn. If there ever was a time I felt secure, it must have been my mother's womb, though I wasn't safe even there! You don't understand- if you lived with this fear, you would have learned the same lesson I did: Do not take chances."
He indicated the body between them.

"It was still the wrong thing to do." Eragon spoke hatefully, getting up in Murtaugh's face about it. Then he climbed onto Snowfire as he started forward. The rest of the team quickly followed, glad their fight was over.
In the end, only Blueberry and Cross agreed with Eragon's view.

That day was spent with Eragon refusing to talk. They sped through the landscape, soon enough turning in to head into the Beors.
That night, they camped a little more quietly than usual.

The only thing of note was that Blue and Error had finished one of the slings for the horses.
Finally, some good news.