Disclaimer: all characters and places belong to Mr. Paolini. Me I just exploit them.
Murtagh's arrival at Uru'baen was several days before the army would arrive. Normally he would have stayed with them anything to stay away from Galbatorix, but he wanted to be alone. There at the gates of the castle stood the king's servant, Saladin. Thorn had gone away to the dragon caves as he always did, he was not allowed to enter the palace grounds with his Rider.
He roughly brushed passed Saladin, they had once been friends before 'Adin had betrayed his and Tornac's escape to the king. Nowadays he trusted no one except Thorn, Malik, and possibly his younger brother. He wasn't sure if he should add Nasuada to that elite list but he knew she was the leader of the Varden, and technically she was his enemy.
When he entered - unhindered by anything but his gloomy thoughts - he tried to head toward his room. But Galbatorix could manipulate the main halls so that they would bring someone to see him. Murtagh knew this, yet still he resisted. The throne room's doors would appear in front of him; if the corridor continued he'd walk past them, if it didn't he would turn around. He had no idea how long he'd wandered those convoluted halls along with those in his mind. Then the doors appeared and he could not continue nor could he turn. He grinned to himself, Galbatorix was annoyed, if Murtagh was going to be the king's slave he would be an unwilling one.
Then since there was no where else to go, he flung the large door open. Momentarily he was blinded, in the darkness of the room. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he saw the red glow of an unholy fire lite behind the black, dragon-shaped throne, where the king, himself, sat.
Galbatorix rose slowly - not wearily, but as if he wanted to intimidate his slave. "Murtagh, why do you still rebel against me?" The king's voice was mesmerizing, it made you want to yeild to his will and his alone.
"What do you mean, Elbrith?" Murtagh said insolently. "All I did was walk in the halls."
Galbatorix's glace was poisonous as he shot it toward his adolescent Rider. "HOW DARE . . . !" The king began to rage, but then stopped and lowered his voice from rage-filled to seductive. "You did not bring you brother to me." he said quietly, "why did you not?"
"He was too strong for me." Murtagh lied blandly.
Galbatorix's laugh was evil and cruel. Then Murtagh felt as if a hand was closing around his throat. His brain began to panic from lack of oxygen. His feet slowly lifted off the ground. His hands clenched into fists as he strained to break the magic. Blackness began to encourch on the edges of his vision. He felt his brain to shut down and his limbs going limp. Then as he was about to pass out of consiousness, Galbatorix released him.
Murtagh landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Murtagh felt as if he still couldn't breath. He could only exhale, not inhale. Then air poured - painfully - into his lungs. He lay there his breathing ragged.
"Now will you tell me what you know?" the king asked in a quiet voice.
Murtagh's lips couldn't yet answer but his mind screamed 'NO!'
Galbatorix must have heard his mental rebellion, because the invisiable hand closed again and slowly tightened, and this time did not stop until its victim was unconsious. But just before his mind shut down, Murtagh thought he heard someone scream 'stop it!' He could have sworn it was the voice of Alrae, the king's eldest daughter.