Chapter Two

Beyond the Icelands

Skandar was eager to resume their journey once the sun was well up and they had eaten. He stood by impatiently while Galbatorix put Laela's saddle on, and was scrambling onto her back as soon as the last strap had been done up. Galbatorix settled down behind him and helped Skade after him with their bags. As soon as they were secure, Laela took to the air.

They flew for most of that day, stopping a few times to eat and stretch their legs, but never for long. Talking in the air was almost impossible, and the four of them spent most of the journey in silence. Instead, they dozed or watched the landscape move below them. It was changing; they all saw that. Laela could cover great distances without too much effort, and they went further that day than they could have managed in a week on foot. They passed over vast pine forests and mountain ranges, and endless snowfields. The air slowly grew colder and colder, and Skandar huddled against Galbatorix's chest for warmth. They were still flying when the sun began to go down again, but Laela showed no sign of faltering.

Skade was starting to shiver in the icy wind. She reached out to Galbatorix's mind. 'We should go down now,' she said. 'It's getting too cold. I'm worried about Skandar.'

He gave a mental nod. 'Yes, you're right. Wait a moment – I'll talk to Laela.'

Laela, however, talked to him first. She had been refusing to speak to him for most of the day, and the emotion that came over their barely-maintained link was mostly resentment. But now she talked to him readily enough. 'Galbatorix,' she said, 'I can see something.'

'What is it?'

She sent him a picture of the landscape far ahead of them, too far away for his own eyes to pick up. He examined it, but couldn't discern anything. The horizon was absolutely straight and flat where it met the darkening sky, and beyond that he saw nothing. 'Well? What's so special about it?'

'I think we're close to the sea now,' said Laela. 'Can't you tell? Look at the horizon. No mountains, no hills – nothing.'

Galbatorix thought about it. 'I suppose you could be right.'

'I'm sure of it,' said Laela. 'That's why I haven't landed yet. I think we can reach it by nightfall.'

In spite of himself, Galbatorix began to feel excited. 'All right, then. I trust you.'

Laela sped up slightly. 'Thankyou.' But in spite of her acid tone there was a hint of gratitude there as well.

'Well?' said Skade. 'What did she say?'

Skandar was shivering. Galbatorix let go of the saddle and held him close to warm him up. 'She said she thinks she can see the sea up ahead, and that we could reach it by nightfall.'

'Is that really so important?'

'Well, it's a goal, isn't it? Don't worry; we'll land as soon as the stars start coming out.'

'How's Skandar?'

'He's fine.'

Galbatorix shut off mental contact. 'How are you feeling?' he called to Skandar.

'Cold!' the boy yelled back.

'Well it's all right, we'll land before it gets too cold and I'll light a fire. Laela says we're nearly at the sea by now!'

Skandar stopped shivering. 'Will we get there today?'

'I hope so!'

They did. The sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving nothing but a faint glow, and the stars began to come out one by one. Laela did not land then, regardless of what Galbatorix had said. She flew on, ignoring the protests of her three passengers. For a brief time they were flying in total darkness, and then the white dragon abruptly began to descend. Galbatorix, Skade and Skandar held on tightly and braced themselves.

But Laela landed lightly, almost delicately, her claws hitting the ground with a faint crunch. She closed her wings and crouched low, and Skade got down first. She helped Skandar after her, and the two of them stood and waited while Galbatorix tossed down their bags and then jumped after them. He landed awkwardly on his lame leg, which folded up without warning and nearly made him fall over. He caught himself on Laela's flank just in time and then sat down, swearing.

Skade helped him up, and he brushed the dirt off himself. 'Thanks.' He winced and rubbed his leg. 'Gods damn you, Brat.'

Skade shook her head. 'He deserved what you did to him a hundred times over.'

Galbatorix muttered a word, and a bright light appeared around him. It spread out to illuminate their immediate surroundings, and they looked around as Laela got up.

They were on a beach. It wasn't anything very impressive; just a long stretch of flat, barren ground. It was freezing cold, but there wasn't much snow on the ground now. Further out, Galbatorix's light shone on black water. 'The sea!' he exclaimed. 'We made it!'

Skade wandered over to have a closer look. There was very little surf; the water lapped half-heartedly at the dirty sand as if the cold had sapped all its energy. Nevertheless, she said; 'We should move further inland. I don't want to get washed away in the middle of the night.'

'Good point,' said Galbatorix. 'C'mon, Skandar, let's find a place to stop for the night.'

The land behind the beach proved to be just as bare as the beach. Dry, dead grass grew in clumps here and there, and the ground between it was covered in snow. But this wasn't fresh, clean snow like the kind that had surrounded their previous camp. It was thin and grubby and full of half-rotted plant matter. Skandar had always thought of snow as pure white and beautiful, and he had never seen snow that was this… well, un-snow-like. He kicked at it distastefully. 'This place is awful.'

Galbatorix was wandering here and there in the vain hopes of finding a sheltered spot. 'I can't say I disagree with you there,' he muttered. 'Well, this will have to do.' He put down their bags and gestured at Skade to join them.

The silver elf caught up with them, looking tired. 'Is this the best you could find?'

'I'm afraid so.' Galbatorix reached out with his mind. 'Laela, could you come here please?'

The white dragon lumbered over. 'Are you going to camp here?'

'It'll do. We're too tired to go much further than this. Can you help?'

Laela sighed. 'I suppose so. Get out of the way.'

Galbatorix picked up the bags again and moved back to stand behind her foreleg, gesturing at the others to follow. Once they were well back, Laela breathed in deeply and blew a great sheet of white and silver fire over the patch of ground they had chosen. The snow melted away in seconds, and she continued to blast the ground underneath until it was blackened and smoking, but dry.

Once she was finished, Galbatorix entered the bare patch and dumped the luggage. He crouched beside it and started to mutter in a different language; its sound lilting and strange. After a few moments there was a small flash of light under his hands and a black fire sprang up. He moved back, feeding more magic into it until it had grown into a tall column that radiated heat. Skandar and Skade had followed him into the clearing, and warmed themselves by the fire very gratefully indeed.

Laela yawned and lay down, placing her bulk between them and the sea to block the wind. 'My gods I am tired,' she mumbled.

Galbatorix patted her on the snout. 'Well, don't let me stop you getting some sleep. You did very well today.'

Laela turned away. 'Don't patronise me, half-breed,' she said coldly.

'I didn't mean it like that-,'

But Laela was not listening. She shut him out of her mind and closed her eyes. Galbatorix stared at her, feeling as if he had just been thumped in the stomach. For a moment he considered trying to talk to her again, but then he sighed and turned away. He was too exhausted to try anything now. And besides, what could he tell her? Now wasn't the time in any case.

He limped back to the fire and sat down, yawning. 'Well that was a long day, wasn't it?'

Skade rubbed her forehead. 'Definitely. How far do we have to go tomorrow?'

'Who knows?' said Galbatorix. 'I mean… tomorrow it'll be time to go… out there.'

'You mean over the sea?' said Skade.

Galbatorix rubbed his hands together. 'Yes indeed. Can you imagine it, Skade? Tomorrow we'll be out of Alagaësia for good. Away over the sea, to a different land. We could find anything out there.'

Skade watched him with a hint of unease. His voice was taking on a tone she had begun to hear a lot lately; a kind of half-manical enthusiasm that meant arguing was a bad idea. 'I'm just not sure that Laela can fly that far,' she said carefully.

'Don't worry, I've got a plan,' said Galbatorix. 'Remember how you said that when you flew over the sea to your father's country, Rangda fed you with her energy when you started to get too tired? Well, that's what I'm going to do. I'll share my energy with Laela when she needs it. Anyway, she's much bigger than you were. She can fly further.'

'But it might be further to fly than it was for me,' said Skade. 'And what if there's nothing out there? Have you thought of that? Anyway… Rangda was a Shade and you're not. You wouldn't have enough energy to do it.'

'Yes I would,' Galbatorix said, a little too defensively. 'I told you; I've got Durza's powers now. I can hold far more energy than I could before. In fact, I think I could draw it from fires or the sun like a Shade if I tried.'

'You shouldn't,' said Skade. 'It could be dangerous.'

He faltered a little at that. 'Yes… you could be right. I'll be careful, I promise. Look, Laela and I have already talked it over. She'll fly as far as she can, and if it looks like she can't go any further without coming in danger she'll turn back. How does that sound?'

Skade scratched her ear. 'I suppose we may as well try, now we've come this far.'

Galbatorix relaxed. 'Good.' He looked at Skandar. 'So, are you planning to share any of that?'

Skandar looked up guiltily from the dried fish he was eating. 'Er… yes?'

'Good. Pass it over, then. Parents need food too, you know.'

Skandar couldn't sleep properly that night. Skade had given him plenty of blankets, but the cold air still touched his face and he couldn't cover that without feeling like he was suffocating. The hard ground beneath him didn't bother him so much; he was used to that sort of thing. He'd never slept in a real bed in his life, as far as he could remember.

In the end, sheer tiredness overcame his discomfort and he drifted into an uneasy doze. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was the dark figure of his father, silhouetted against the firelight. He was always still awake when everyone else was going to sleep, and he always seemed to wake up first too. In fact, Skandar realised vaguely as he slipped away, he'd never seen his father asleep before.

His own sleep was shallow and uncomfortable, and full of unpleasant images. He kept dreaming that he was lost in a forest, and the shadows of the trees were growing into strange, frightening shapes that pursued him over the snow. He woke up again after a while, feeling stiff and cold. His blankets had slid off him. He pulled them back and tried to go back to sleep, but the moment he had moved his senses woke up properly and he started listening to the unfamiliar sound of the surf nearby, and the chirping of insects, and Laela's deep breathing. He tried to keep his eyes shut, but the temptation was too strong. Just a quick look, it whispered. Just to see if there's anything going on.

His eyes opened in spite of himself, and he saw the fire and the stars and part of Laela's flank. He also saw the dark shape still sitting exactly where it had been before, and realised that he must have only been asleep for a few minutes. Skandar scowled irritably and turned over. But it had grown even colder now. It seeped right through the blankets, making him shiver uncomfortably. The fire was still going, but it couldn't keep all of him warm. If he faced it, his back got cold, but if he turned away his front got cold. Maybe if he moved closer to it…

Skandar sat up and laboriously started to move his makeshift bed nearer to the fire. That didn't work very well; he couldn't go much closer before he started to feel scared that he was going to get burnt. And when he tried lying down again, he couldn't get comfortable. He sat up, sighing angrily and deciding that he wasn't really very tired anyway.

'Can't sleep?'

Skandar looked up. Galbatorix, still sitting by the fire, was looking at him. He shook his head mutely.

'Well, that makes two of us,' said Galbatorix.

Skandar picked up his blankets and went to sit next to him. Skade was on his other side, fast asleep. Galbatorix shuffled closer to him and helped him wrap the blankets around himself.

Skandar settled down, feeling much better. 'It's so cold out here,' he complained regardless.

Galbatorix's breath misted in the air as he replied. 'Yes. It's pretty unpleasant, isn't it?'

'I can't sleep when it's this cold,' said Skandar.

'Well, you can sleep in the air tomorrow instead if you want.'

'I don't like sleeping on Laela,' said Skandar. 'I get scared that I might fall off.'

'Don't worry; I'll make sure you don't.'

'Why aren't you asleep?' said Skandar.

Galbatorix shrugged. 'I don't sleep much.'

'But don't you get tired?'

'Of course I do.'

Skandar nodded vaguely, too tired to pursue this point any further. 'Do you know where we're going?'

'Yes; over the sea.'

'Yes, but what's on the other side?'

'I don't know,' said Galbatorix. 'But we're going to find out.'

'Why, though?' said Skandar.

Galbatorix looked at him. 'Don't you want to see what's there?'

Skandar thought about it. 'I suppose so.'

'Well,' said Galbatorix, as if that settled it, 'So do I.'

'I don't think Mother wants to go,' said Skandar.

'She's just a little afraid that it could be dangerous,' said Galbatorix.

'What if it is?' said Skandar.

'Then we'll just have to deal with it,' said Galbatorix. 'But… you see, the reason why I want to go there is because I think it would be less dangerous than it would be to stay here.'

Skandar gave him an old-fashioned look. 'But you're not scared of anything.'

'Yes I am,' said Galbatorix. 'I'm scared of lots of things. And the biggest thing I'm scared of is that something might happen to you.'

'Like what?' Skandar said nervously.

'I'm frightened that you might die,' said Galbatorix. 'And that Skade could too, and Laela. That's why I'm taking you all away from here, so that you can be safe.'

'Why?' said Skandar. 'Are there people after us?'

Galbatorix hesitated. 'Well… not really.'

'Then what?'

'You don't understand,' said Galbatorix. 'It's not that there are people after us, but that there will be. I don't know exactly who they are or when they'll come, but they'll come.'

'Why?'

'Because, sooner or later, someone always does,' said Galbatorix. 'Trust me.'

'And you think they might kill me?' said Skandar. 'And Mother, and Laela?'

'Yes.'

'Can't you just fight them?' said Skandar.

'I could, maybe, but I don't want to,' said Galbatorix. He paused. 'Skandar… I should tell you this now, just in case. And I want you to take me very seriously when I say this, and remember it. Can you do that?'

Skandar nodded. 'I'll try.'

'Good. Skandar… if anything ever happens – if we're separated, if you end up on your own…'

Skandar took hold of his father's arm and held onto it. 'But I won't.'

'I hope not. But things don't always turn out how we want. Skandar-,' Galbatorix fixed him with a one-eyed but still powerful stare, 'I want you to make me a promise.'

'I will.'

'If the day ever comes when you're on your own – promise me that you will never, ever tell anyone that I'm your father. No matter what happens. Pretend you've never even met the man called Galbatorix Taranisäii. You don't know him, or Skade, or Laela.'

Skandar stared at him, bewildered. 'But I am your son… aren't I?'

'Yes, Skandar, you are. And if you ever doubt that, just look in a mirror. But the world doesn't need to know that Galbatorix had a son, or that you're him. Because there are people out there who know my name, and they know things about me. And if they knew that you were my son, they would kill you.'

Fear struck into Skandar's heart. 'But why? I haven't done anything!'

'Skandar,' Galbatorix took him by the hand. His own hand was big and rough, the palm marked with a silver oval. 'You have to understand. It's not what you've done; it's what you are. People… some people believe that a man can be born corrupted by his parents, even if he never knew them. Whether you like it or not you're connected to me, and some people will believe that makes you evil. And they will go to any lengths to destroy you if they ever find that out. Don't let them find out, Skandar. Forget about me. Curse my name if you have to; hundreds of people already have. But never tell them who you are.'

'I won't, Father,' said Skandar. 'I promise. But…' he looked into his father's face, his own face full of fear. 'But you're not evil, are you?'

Galbatorix sighed. 'I don't even know what that means any more. I've seen people do evil things… I've done evil things myself. But I've never met anyone who I would call evil. Some people are more trustworthy than others, some are kinder than others, but I don't believe there's any such thing as an evil person. But not everyone thinks the same way as I do. There are people – plenty of people – who prefer the idea that the world is divided into good and evil, and that they are good and their enemies are evil. Somehow, the world feels like a less frightening place if you pretend it's all black and white with nothing in between. If you believe in that view of the world… then yes, I am evil.'

'Why?' said Skandar. 'What have you done?'

'I started a war,' Galbatorix said simply. 'And I won it. My enemies never forgave me for it. And after I had won, the rulers of the country had been destroyed and there was no-one left to lead. So I made myself King, and ruled over my Empire for a hundred years.'

'So you were a King,' said Skandar.

'Oh yes. King Galbatorix Taranisäii-Traeganni the First, Lord of Alagaësia, Master of Riders… and so on. I tried so hard to be a good ruler. I crushed the rebels, I made laws, I built cities and dams and libraries, I fought to protect my people… for a while I was stupid enough to think that they would call me Galbatorix the Great or some nonsense like that.'

'And did they?' said Skandar.

Galbatorix sighed. 'No. They called me the Mad King, actually.'

'That's horrible!'

'Actually, that was one of the nicer things they called me. But I kept on doing my best anyway, and my friends helped. But they all died. One by one. I had to bury them, but I never let anyone see me cry. I had to pretend I was strong. And then there was no-one left except me and Shruikan, and I was ill and couldn't fight any more.'

'And then what happened?' said Skandar.

'And while I was helpless the Varden rose up and started to try and destroy the Empire. People started joining them. I could have beaten them easily once I was well again, but then…'

'Then?' Skandar was enthralled.

'And then the Brat came,' Galbatorix said finally.

'Who was he?'

'He was a rider. The first rider to come since before the war. The Varden stole a dragon egg from me, and it hatched for a peasant boy somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. I wanted him to come to me, so that I could train him. But I was sick, and my enemies found him first and turned him to their side. He became the leader of the Varden, in the end. I met him later on, and I tried to persuade him that I was a friend, but he wouldn't listen. He believed that I was evil, and insane, and all the other lies the Varden told about me. He wouldn't listen.'

'Did you kill him?'

'No,' said Galbatorix. 'I let him escape. I believed that he would see sense in the end. But he didn't. He took your mother and me captive. I kept trying to reason with him, but…' Galbatorix snarled, his face twisting with sudden hatred. 'I should have seen it was pointless. The boy was a vicious, arrogant little tyrant. Worse than that; he was an idiot.'

Skandar drew closer. 'What did he do to you?'

Galbatorix shook his head. 'A rider is very powerful, you see. More powerful than anyone really should be, I think. This boy… he was only fifteen or so when the egg hatched for him. Suddenly he had all this power, but he didn't have the maturity to deal with it. It went straight to his head, twisted him. Imagine a selfish child – one who wants everything his own way – and then imagine he had the power to kill hundreds of people and command thousands of others. Terrible things would happen. And they did.'

'What did he do when he got you?' said Skandar.

Galbatorix rolled up the sleeves of his robe, and showed Skandar his forearms. There were scars on them; deep and twisted and horrible in the firelight.

Skandar touched them gingerly; they felt rough and knotted under his fingers. 'He did this to you?'

'Yes. I was beaten and then tortured with poison. The scars became infected; that's why they look like that.'

'Did it hurt?'

'Yes. But I was lucky enough to escape. The Varden were crushed, but the Brat got away. He found other followers and came back a few years later, while your mother was pregnant with you. I went to hunt for him, and he was lying in wait for me. He killed Shruikan. I survived, but I was hurt.' He tapped his leg. 'That's how I got my bad leg.'

'Did you go after him?' said Skandar.

'Not at first. I was lost, and I couldn't remember who I was any more… and while I wasn't there, the Brat tore my Empire apart. He took my throne, just a few days after you were born. But your mother escaped with you and ran away over the sea, and I found her there.' Galbatorix looked seriously at him. 'If the Brat had caught her, he would have killed her. And he would also have killed you. Just before he killed Shruikan, when he had me cornered, he told me that you were both dead. He said "I wanted you to know that before you died… Sire". And then he shot an arrow at me, and another one at Shruikan. And Shruikan died…' Galbatorix stopped suddenly, his eye closing.

Skandar touched him on the shoulder. 'Father…'

Galbatorix raised his head and opened his eye again. 'I'm all right. But I came back, with your mother. The Empire was in ruins, thanks to the Brat. He'd destroyed everything I built in just a few years, and he had become… something terrible. He was duped by a Shade, you see.'

'What's a Shade?' said Skandar.

'A human being,' said Galbatorix. 'At least, they start out as human. They become possessed by evil spirits; it makes them immortal and very powerful in magic. Shades don't understand emotions, or other human things. They don't sleep, they don't eat… all they ever want or understand is power. There was a Shade who had been watching the Brat, and using him for her own ends. She tricked him… tricked both of us. She turned the Brat into a Shade like herself, and they took over my Empire.'

'Then how did you kill the Brat?' said Skandar, puzzled.

'It was quite easy,' said Galbatorix. 'Your mother killed the Shade who had made him, and once that was done we went back to Urû'baen and I confronted the Brat. Well… the Shade. Durza was his name. I tricked him. Durza had wanted to use my body as his own, but he couldn't do that unless I let him. I told him he could have what he wanted if he let the Brat go and took my body in his place. He fell for it. He came out of the Brat's body and into mine.'

'You turned into a Shade?'

'Almost.' Galbatorix opened his other eye. It was blood-red and horrible. 'This eye is a Shade-eye now. I can't make it change back. But Durza didn't manage to take control of me. I fought him and won. And when it was over, I stood over the Brat… he was alive, and he recognised me well enough, even if I had one red eye now. I said…' he paused, trying to remember, 'I said… "do you know who I am?", and he said my name and I knew it was him. And then I picked up his sword and I stabbed him through the stomach, and I stood there and watched him die.'

Skandar scowled. 'Good. He deserved to die.'

'Not many people do,' said Galbatorix. 'But I believe that he did. Anyway, so after that your grandfather became King in my place and the new riders swore to serve him, and I left with you and Laela and your mother and vowed never to come back.'

'Why, though?' said Skandar. 'If the Brat's dead…'

'The Brat did not work alone,' said Galbatorix. 'He has friends who are still alive. And even if he didn't, there are others in the world just like him. You see… he had a daughter.'

'Why didn't you kill her too?' Skandar said innocently.

Galbatorix glared at him. 'I am not a murderer, Skandar. She hadn't done anything to me. She's only your age. But she'll grow up, and her mother will tell her that I murdered her father.'

Skandar listened. 'Was the Brat really his name?'

'No. His real name was Eragon. Eragon Shadeslayer, he called himself.' Galbatorix sneered. 'And that same Shade came back for revenge and turned him into the thing he hated most. Poetic justice, I'd call it.' He sighed. 'But I'll always remember him. When my leg hurts at night, I lie awake and curse him. Sometimes I think I can still see his face and the way he snarled at me just before he killed Shruikan. No… I'm not sorry I killed him. I'd do it again if I could.'

'So would I,' said Skandar.

Galbatorix glanced at him. 'You would?'

'Yes. I hate him.'

'Just as they all hated me,' Galbatorix murmured.

'What does that mean?'

'Never mind. You'll understand one day, Skandar.'