4
Summery: Takes place between Eragon and Eldest. Murtagh is captured by Galbotorix, and is hurt in every way possible. Will Galbotorix pry the secret of Eragon's whereabouts from Murtagh's so heavily guarded mind?
Disclaimer: I don't own this, the characters, setting, everything all belongs Christopher Paolini. Now, on with the story!
In a dark cell, a body wrapped in a tattered black cloak; Murtagh lay on the cold floor, shivering. The cell was small, and cold. Rats skittered across the floor; their sharp nails clickity-clicking on the stone floor.
As his body was racked with convulsions of pain and freezing cold, Murtagh could only think. I hate him…I hate him!
--One hour ago--
"You made a grave mistake by running away, Murtagh." Galbotorix said coldly as Murtagh writhed on the floor before him.
Murtagh looked up at him, his eyes filled with hate and disgust. "A mistake?" he spat out through clenched teeth. "I did not make a mistake. I made a choice, which is something your 'subjects' do not have, now do they?"
Galbotorix's eyes widened with rage as he released a new and stronger bout of magic on Murtagh's already tortured body.
Murtagh's eyes rolled up into his head and he groaned as the magic coursed through his body, pulsing with each heartbeat, digging up his worst nightmares and throwing them in his face.
Horrific scenes of Eragon and Saphira been caught and tortured by Galbotorix, Eragon slowly being turned against all that he fought so valiantly to protect, Murtagh being forced to join Galbotorix's forces. Murtagh shuddered violently at the prospect.
Galbotorix smiled as the whites of Murtagh's eyes flickered blindly. "You will pay for that you foolish boy." He said coolly.
Murtagh shuddered again at the merciless voice and curled up into a ball as the pain continued. Eragon…my friend, my brother, why are you not here to help me? Please, I cannot bear this! ERAGON! His mind screamed, yet he knew Eragon wouldn't hear him.
Galbotorix stared at Murtagh in fierce concentration and his lips moved in silent words of the ancient language.
Murtagh felt a sharp pain in the side of his temple, and he tried to force the mental probe out; it felt like someone was pounding a rusty nail into the side of his head. Desperately, he tried to fight it, but the probe was strong, too strong. With a scream of agony, Murtagh's defenses broke, and the mental probe had access to his mind. Screaming and writhing on the floor, Murtagh tried again and again to shove the mental probe out, slamming all his built up defenses against the probe, fighting, but to no avail, the more he tried to fight it, the stronger, and more painful it became.
The probe lingered on things that Murtagh would never have giving up willingly. Some of the secrets, like all the silent plots and plans of what he wished to do to Galbotorix that he had formed in the darkness, he would have died in order to keep them hidden; but the mental probes, and the person behind it, were cunning and able to swat Murtagh's defenses away easily.
Finally, the probe withdrew, leaving Murtagh on the floor, gasping.
Galbotorix was bending over beside him; he cupped Murtagh's cheek with his hand and looked down as Murtagh hissed with pain. Lifting Murtagh's face, Galbotorix forced Murtagh to look him in the eye. "Now, now Murtagh..." He cooed. "If you had worked with me, you wouldn't feel this way now would you?"
Murtagh stared up at him with hate filled eyes, his teeth were clenched in anger, his breathing raspy and irregular.
Galbotorix leaned closer and whispered in Murtagh's ear, "Murtagh, I know you don't like me, but listen to this." He softly began to weave a story, a story of how things would be if he ruled. "You could live in riches, no pain, nothing like you are feeling now."
No pain? Murtagh felt like that fact was almost impossible, for weeks the first thing he awoke to was pain, and that was the last thing he knew as darkness claimed him in the later hours.
"Why if I ruled," Galbotorix continued. "Nothing would ever go wrong for you, no more friends abandoning you,"
Murtagh's mind flashed briefly to Eragon, if he really cared, wouldn't he be here?
" I would be able to wipe out all those foolish rebels, they know nothing about ruling a kingdom, I do. It would be ruled justly, wisely, for the benefit of all. And you would be by my side."
Murtagh looked up at him, confusion clouded his eyes, but, underneath the confusion, was a glimmer of hope; A small hope of finally being accepted for something. Slowly, he stood up, watching the evil king with a new interest.
Galbotorix nodded. "Ah Yes, that strikes your fancy now doesn't it? Hmmm?" Galbotorix laughed and nodded, "Oh Murtagh, simple Murtagh, don't you realize how much power you have? Yes power." Galbotorix smiled as Murtagh stared up at him, his eyes doubtful.
"Power?" Murtagh said quietly, warily.
Galbotorix nodded, and said in a sickly sweet voice, like the one a person uses to calm a fretful child. "Power, unlimited power! You could do it Murtagh, join me, and help me rule the world in the way it should be."
In the secret places of Murtagh's heart, he longed to jump at the chance to rule. But the memories of Eragon and Saphira flashed through his head, as if determined to torment him. He shook his head. "No, No!" he said venomously. "I can't! I will NOT betray Eragon!"
Galbotorix's face dropped its sickly sweet look and was replaced with a look of hate and vengeance. "Fool!" he spat. Murtagh's head was whipped to one side as Galbotorix backhanded him. Murtagh fell backwards and landed heavily on the ground, to weak to get up. "Do you not realize that Eragon has betrayed you? Where is he?" the king demanded, sweeping his arms wide in a wild gesture as he stared down at the crumpled form. "Why is he not here, helping you? Hmmm? Why Murtagh? Because he doesn't care! He doesn't care what happens to you! If he did, he would be here!"
Murtagh spat out some blood, the salty taste was bitter on his tongue. His heart ached at the thought, Eragon wouldn't, Eragon was loyal, faithful. It couldn't be true! Murtagh's eyes stung with tears. Why, why would you do that Eragon? He silently asked.
Galbotorix reached out a hand and Murtagh flinched and closed his eyes, expecting a slap, but none came. Instead, he felt a gentle hand on his cheek. Murtagh opened his eyes and stared up at the wicked man bending over him. Murtagh's breath came in short ragged gasps.
"Now, tell me all you know about Eragon, this, boy, who betrayed you." Galbotorix said coldly.
Murtagh felt a wrench in his stomach. "I won't!" he hissed, but Galbotorix whispered words in the Ancient Language. Murtagh's head was thrown back as a ragged scream of pain was torn from his bleeding lips. Pressure built up in his head until his temples throbbed and darkness began to claim him. Eragon, my brother, I'm sorry, so sorry… he thought as the mental probe entered his mind again, this time with so much power, Murtagh blacked out.
Once he had the information he needed, Galbotorix withdrew the probe and smiled. So, that was where Eragon was. And how powerful he had become! Oh how Galbotorix loved power! He smiled and straightened his robes. Clapping his hands twice, two guards opened the door; heads low with respect, and fear.
Murtagh began to stir, just as Galbotorix delivered a swift kick to Murtagh's exposed stomach. Murtagh doubled over, a groan sliding unbidden between his clenched teeth.
"Take him away. I'm done with him now." Galbotorix said in a bored voice. As the guards hauled Murtagh to his feet, Murtagh kicked one in the shin, whirled around and punched the other guard in the jaw. Both guards went down, Murtagh spun around and launched himself at Galbotorix.
Galbotorix spun to one side; the enraged young man missed him by a hair.
Murtagh crashed to the floor, then propped himself up on his elbows to keep an eye on Galbotorix.
"You want to play games little boy?" Galbotorix taunted. "So be it!" he laughed.
Murtagh growled and jumped to his feet, throwing himself at Galbotorix again. This time though, Galbotorix wasn't fast enough, Murtagh grabbed onto the wicked man's robes and shoved him to the ground. Unlike Galbotorix, who had lived as royalty all his life, Murtagh had lived in the wilderness, and knew how to fight dirty. Galbotorix had only trained with regale fighting, proper, and fair. Murtagh had learned to fight on the streets; and he had plenty of experience.
Murtagh's fists rained down on Galbotorix's unprotected face, until the two guards had their wits about them and could bodily drag Murtagh off of the evil king.
Murtagh fought them as best he could, but three were too much for him.
Galbotorix got up off the floor, and limped over to Murtagh. He reached out and touched Murtagh's temple, sliding his cold hand down Murtagh's cheek until it rested on Murtagh's neck.
Galbotorix smiled and leaned forward. "I think we will come to enjoy each other's company, don't you think?" he said menacingly.
Murtagh glared at him. "You're sick!" he hissed, before spitting in Galbotorix's face.
Galbotorix reached up his hand and touched the spittle on his cheek. He looked at his fingers before slapping Murtagh with the same hand. Murtagh didn't give Galbotorix the pleasure of seeing how much it hurt; instead, he stared at Galbotorix, his face expressionless.
This enraged Galbotorix like nothing else. "Take…Him…Away…now!" he hissed. Arms trembling with rage, Galbotorix turned away and pressed his arms against his side to stop them from shaking.
Murtagh sagged in the guards' arms, making them support his whole body weight, until one of the guards slammed his fist into Murtagh's stomach, only then did the bleeding young man straighten.
The
guards half dragged, half supported Murtagh as they took him to the
cell, then, opening the door, they threw him inside.
Murtagh
collapsed on the floor. To weak to get up, yet to proud to kneel on
the floor, Murtagh crawled to the corner and lay on his side, his
face to the wall. Curling his knees up to his chest, Murtagh pressed
his eyes into his knees and sobbed quietly.
His whole body hurt with every breath, all he wanted to do was to die. But it was not possible, Galbotorix played a sick game where he tortured someone till they thought they would die, but he would always stop just before they had enough beatings to kill them. He had seen it before, long ago, when he was nothing but a small child, subject to his father's ruthless beatings. Often, he had taken refuge from his father in one of Galbotorix's many rooms, only to find out that the room he hid in was one of the secret beating rooms. Horrified, Murtagh had seen many a brave soldier nearly die from the 'punishments' the king dealt out.
I hate him, I hate him! Murtagh's mind screamed over and over.
Eragon! Why have you abandoned me? What have I done that you have not come to find me? I need your help, please, please, someone kill me, I don't want to help Galbotorix! I want to be with Eragon, helping him, watching him grow…my brother, why have you forsaken me?
Murtagh knew, that as much as he hated it, Galbotorix would someday force him to swear allegiance to him, the only thing Murtagh didn't know was how soon it was going to be.