"We do not have the power to heal him...if he dies it will be the fault of the healer." The other answered, moving once more the check the weakening pulse of the child among men.
"A healer we do not have in our presence, and once more the fault will be ours." The candle sank lower to the teen's face, and it became all the more evident that he was in desperate need of medical assistance.
"The Varden's spies are everywhere, we cannot take him to Dras-Leona without someone noticing him...and Uru'baen is much to far away to walk. The transport will be here soon, we shall have to wait...healer or not." Hands moved once more the the large and unsettling gash that adorned the teen's brow. It compensated for over half of the left side of his face, dissapearing into his hairline. Surrounding the wound was heavy bruising that was soon turning into a pictionary refrence to every color imaginable. It was a complex wound, caused only by the club of a careless Urgal who had become to battle hungry to ensure the boy's imperative safety.
The two exhausted men had done all in their power to keep him from dying, but no matter how much energy the poured into the boy, he was not healing. They were masters of the mind, not of medicinal arts. Now they were out of strength, and they knew not what to do. He was in the midst of fever ridden drearms, and he showed no signs of waking. That on it's own was another problem. He had not eaten nor imbibed any substance since their flight from the Varden nearly 3 days ago. His cracked lips and hoarse breathing bore testiment to how dehydrated he was, and his watchers new that he would not survive anything if he did not drink any water soon. However, for fear of him choking on the water, they had no way of him drinking a proper amount of anything.
"How long until the transport arrives? It will grant us passage to Uru'baen by morning." One of the men took a damp cloth and squeezed it lightly over the child's lips, hoping the small amount would give him strength to last the night.
"It should be coming any minute now." Still, as he looked above them, no sign of anything but stars met his eyes. The child beside them moaned in his sleep, and the two felt certain this would be their last night alive.
Suddenly from the sky, a flurry of wings and feathers alerted them to the presence of another. They looked up, thanking the gods profusely as the sight of a griffin came closer and closer. As it landed they became aware that the creature had a rider. It was a mere Raz'ac and they frowned at the sight of it.
"The lord wants you to deliver the boy to me." It hissed at them. They frowned, knowing that if they handed the sickly child to this monster, he would most certainly not last the night. He would be tormented the entire way to the city, and death would come fast. However this was their chance. The could easily blame the Raz'ac for killing the boy... but the orders they recieved were sound.
"If he dies before he reaches my city your heads will be the newest ornament on my wall." he said. No, they would have to personally see to it that the boy reached Uru'baen alive. For if he didn't, they would soon be seeing him in death.
"We will be escorting the boy to Uru'baen." The men hissed, slowly picking up the teen and moving towards the Raz'ac. He growled at them, but they paid no heed - simply cursing him and watching as he melted away like the filth he was. The griffin jumped in surprise, but fortunatly stayed in it's place.
The three sat upon the creature, child's head lolling back on the shoulder of one of the men. With a word the lion/eagle hybrid jumped to the sky, soaring quickly towards the capital.
It took five hours to cross the tremendous distance towards Uru'baen. By that time the boy inbetween his captors had ceased all movement and his heart rate was dangerously slow. His breathing was coming in short gasps, while his skin was cold and clamy. When the city gates finally came into view, they breathed out a sigh in relief. He had not died before he entered the city, but they knew that that did not absolve the punishment they would recieve for allowing him to get so horrendously hurt.
As the griffin landed, they were met by the king himself. He looked slightly amused by the fact that his Raz'ac had not returned. but then the amusement dissapeared into a stone cold mask that was showed clearly that he was not someone to trifle with. He was prepared to repremend the boy right then and there. That was of course, before he saw how serious the child's wounds were.
He noticed how the twins were avoiding his gaze as they managed to get off the beast. He noticed how the son of his dear friend was leaning completely on them for support rather then trying to fight his way back out of the city. He noticed the guilty expressions that were mirrored on the Twins, and how they paused to long before turning to face him. He noticed how they had purposly arranged for the boy's back to be towards him , his face buried in one of their chests, and in all of his infinate wisdom - he knew that something was wrong.
"What in gods names did you do wrong this time?" He hissed taking three quick strides toward them. The men stiffened, but the boy did not - something that was increasinly pulling at his heart for he knew that this particular child hated being in this city and around him more then any other. The words he had spoken to this public he had spoken to this wayward teen in private on more then one occasion, each ending in the boy in tears begging for forgiveness. Even though each of those events had been forcibly removed from the boy's memory - each time he spoke them, those words always managed to cause him to shudder and shrink back inside of himself.
"My lord...during the sting opperation...he was wounded by an urgal..." The one not holding the boy whispered. Galbatorix stiffened for only a momment before hissing at them to see the damage. Slowly yet surely the teen was turned to face him, and he was forced to surpress the gasp that was tearing at his throat. It was a miracle the child was still alive. Moving quickly towards him, he gently placed him on the ground and placed a hand over the wound.
"Waise heil." He commanded, and instantly a light surrounded the boy - wound vanishing instantly. Still the boy didn't wake, and the King did not want him to. Looking up at the Twins he hissed. "Why did you not heal him before his wounds progressed to near death?!"
"We did not have the strength my lord...our power lies mainly in the destruction of the mind, not in the healing arts. And we were drained of energy after the flight..." Galbatorix glowered, but said nothing as he pulled the weak and shivering boy into his arms. The child's clothing had been left behind by the Twind on his order to make his death seem true, but the replacement tunic was hardly keeping the child warm, nor were there any leggings and shoes to help.
As he acended the stairs to the sleeping quarters of the citadel, he looked down at the teen and sighed. He wanted the boy to suffer for the insolence that he had shown, and the clear lack of respect that he had shown. But it was momments like this that he often wondered why he was so hard on the boy. He had always observed the child's life with vague curiosity, and yet he never showed any inkling that he cared for him at all. Rather he was adept at showing hatred towards him. This thing in his arms was his last tie to the only friend he had ever had. Who was he to make such a valuble boy suffer?
As he entered the boy's old bedroom he sighed. It had been over a year since he had entered the boy's room, and as he eased the cold and weak teen under the covers of the large bed, he forced himself to set aside the last memory he had of this room. It was to much to think about now, and to much to try to take in. How could he ever tell his friend's son, and the closest thing he had ever had to having a child, of the fear and pain he had felt the night the boy fled? This boy would merely shake off the words, call him a liar, and hate him for the rest of his days as he already did.
How could he tell this boy that from the day Morzan had died, he had thought Murtagh, as an heir?
Windster: I do not have any ownership of Eragon or Eldest, all rights of the two belong to Christopher Paolini.