Chapter Twelve

The Return of the King

Valdyr and Lifrasir crouched side-by-side, and listened closely as Galbatorix outlined his plan.

'First we'll go and talk to Kullervo,' he said. 'We need his help; ordinary troops don't have much chance against riders, but with the wild dragons helping us… anyway, if I can persuade Kullervo to ally himself with me, we'll make arrangements with him depending on what he thinks is best. Then I'll go to Dras-Leona, and take command there. With Carnoc, Ulfrid and Leonol in power there it shouldn't be too difficult, but we should make sure it's an impressive entrance. I'll have to try and hide this limp, and I should get hold of some new clothes as well. This robe's practically had it. We'll have to be quick and decisive. The Brat will still be mad after losing his dragon, so if we attack before he's recovered we'll have an advantage. Although…' he frowned. 'If Murtagh takes charge it might not be so easy. He's a much more effective leader than the Brat is. Still, it's a risk we'll have to take. Murtagh betrayed me, and I'd dearly like to make him pay for that. Once we've secured Dras-Leona, we'll make plans for an attack on Urû'baen. Is all that clear?'

The two dragons nodded.

'Good,' said Galbatorix. 'Then let's get to it. First task – Kullervo. I know where to find him. Valdyr, will you carry me?'

'Yes, Father,' said Valdyr. He held out his foreleg, and Galbatorix used it as a step to climb onto his shoulders. He settled in place, and the black dragon took off with Lifrasir close behind him. Galbatorix, balanced expertly on Valdyr's back, gave directions, and the three of them made their way through the Spine. They encountered a few wild dragons, but Lifrasir was large enough to intimidate them into letting them pass, and they carried on until they were right in the heart of the mountains. There was a stone canyon there, ringed by cliffs, and that was where Kullervo's cave was. They knew they had found it when there was a roar from below and a large brown dragon flew up toward them, shouting; 'My place! Get out!'

'We've come to talk to Kullervo!' Lifrasir called back, hovering protectively in front of Valdyr.

The brown dragon halted, floating just out of flaming distance. 'What is your name?' she asked suspiciously.

'I am Lifrasir, daughter of Kullervo's sister,' said Lifrasir. 'And this is Valdyr, son of my brother. We are bringing someone to speak with Kullervo.'

'Who?' said the brown dragon, looking around in vain for another dragon. 'I see no-one.'

Lifrasir moved aside, and Valdyr turned slightly in the air so that the brown dragon could see Galbatorix sitting just behind his neck.

Galbatorix bowed his head, touching his forehead in a gesture of respect. 'Greetings, Thornessa,' he said. 'I am Galbatorix, King of Alagaësia. I have come to offer Kullervo my help.'

'You?' said Thornessa, her orange eyes widening. 'But… you're dead, murdered by the Brat!'

Galbatorix sighed. 'Rumours of my death have been, shall we say, exaggerated. May I see Kullervo?'

'Yes,' said Thornessa. Without another word she turned and flew back down toward her home, and Lifrasir and Valdyr followed.

It was quite dark inside the cave. The space was larger than they had expected, which was just as well, since it meant it could accommodate both Kullervo and Thornessa, and Valdyr as well. Lifrasir, however, seeing there was no space left, stayed outside to keep a lookout.

Kullervo was lying against the far wall, a huge, hunched shape in the gloom. They could hear his deep, rumbling breaths, but the great dragon made no move even when Thornessa went to his side. 'There is someone here to see you,' she murmured.

Galbatorix jumped down from Valdyr's back. 'Ljós,' he muttered, and light bloomed in the cave. It showed them Kullervo, who was lying on his side with his legs pointing toward the entrance, his head and tail curled around toward his belly. They all knew what that meant. A dragon prefers to lie on his belly, but if he was on his side it meant that all was not well with him. Kullervo was more seriously hurt than they had realised.

Thornessa motioned for the visitors to come closer, which they did, standing by Kullervo's head so that he could see them. The orange dragon opened his eyes and stared up blankly at Valdyr.

'Well,' he rasped. 'Hello, young dragon. Have you… come to kill me, then? Come to… challenge me while I'm too weak to fight? Cunning of you to… do that, I'll give you that.' Kullervo's voice died away in a fit of coughing.

'Calm down, lord,' said Valdyr. 'I haven't come to fight you. It's me, Valdyr.'

'Skirnir's son…' said Kullervo.

'I've brought someone here to see you,' said Valdyr. 'It's King Galbatorix. He's here to speak with you.'

Kullervo's golden eyes focused on Galbatorix. They widened. 'You! What are – you doing here, human? Am I dead? Have you come to – show me the way to the afterlife?'

'I'm afraid not, Lord Kullervo,' said Galbatorix, bowing low. 'I'm alive, and so are you. I've come here to offer you my help.'

'It's a bit… late for that, human,' said Kullervo, his eyes closing. 'You've… come back from the dead too late. My back is broken. I can't move my hind legs. I'm dying and I know it. After I die, the other dragons will fight each other to take my place. It's our way.'

'Our way, too,' said Galbatorix. 'I mean to take the Empire back from the Brat, by force if I have to. If we join forces, we can destroy him and his followers.'

'Are you listening to me?' Kullervo rasped, opening his eyes again. 'I'm dying, Galbatorix Silvertongue, and even if I wanted to I wouldn't be able to fight your battles for you.'

'It's our battle,' said Galbatorix. 'If the wild dragons don't agree to serve the Brat – not ally with, serve – he'll kill them. Just as people claimed I did once.'

'He doesn't have the strength to do that,' said Kullervo. 'We are…' he paused, and winced. 'We are dragons, not rodents. You didn't have the strength to destroy us, and neither does he. He is… human.'

'He has someone with him who can destroy the dragons,' said Galbatorix. 'She can destroy all of us.'

'The monster…' said Kullervo. 'I saw her. She… she was the one who hurt me. I would have killed her, she was so small, but… she killed me.'

'She's killed a lot of people,' said Galbatorix. 'I don't know all of what she can do, but she can control people. She's controlling the Brat right now, and when your father was here she brought him to his knees without any effort at all. I'm the only one I know of who can resist her, but I can't kill her or the Brat without help.'

'You can't… kill anyone, human,' said Kullervo in contemptuous tones. 'I know what happened to you. You've lost Shruikan. Where is your sword? Where are your followers? You can barely stand upright on those tiny legs of yours.'

'I can still lead,' said Galbatorix. 'I still have loyal followers. And I have my magic.'

'Listen to me,' said Kullervo. 'I would fight if I could. The monster and the Brat have my son in their power. He came to me to plead for help, and I went to war in order to save him. If I was able to, I would fight by your side to set him free. But I can't.'

'Then it's settled,' said Galbatorix. He held out his hand over Kullervo's head, and began to speak the ancient language. Healing magic flowed into the dragon, and he felt his broken back slowly crack back into place. After a time Galbatorix started to draw on Kullervo's own energy in order to complete the spell, but complete it he did, and when he was finished he sat down exhausted. 'There,' he gasped. 'It's done. Maybe we can put our differences behind us now.'

Kullervo blinked. Then he stood up, stretching his wings and spine. They were pain-free, and his hind legs would support him again. He let out a great sigh. 'You healed me,' he said. 'Thankyou, Galbatorix.'

'Don't mention it,' said Galbatorix, standing up with some effort. 'Now, do we trust each other?'

'We do,' said Kullervo at once. 'The past is past. We'll fight now, humans and dragons side-by-side. And we will set Thorn free and kill the Brat and the monster.'

'We will,' said Galbatorix. And afterwards, he added in the privacy of his head, afterwards he would go to the Night Dragon's country to be with Skade and his son, and he would be able to live in peace and never need to fight again.

In Dras-Leona, the situation was dire. High over the city, a red dragon circled, watching as troops on the ground fought for the city. On the outside were members of the Varden, led by the elf rider Mnenth, and on the inside were humans loyal to Galbatorix. The siege had been going on for a long time, and both sides were becoming desperate. Food and other supplies were low, and even with a rider on their side the attackers were having a tough time of it. Mnenth was nowhere near as powerful or practised in magic as Eragon was, and nor was he a particularly good leader, which was why Murtagh and Thorn had been sent to help him. But they, for reasons of their own, were choosing to watch. Here, so far away from Urû'baen, they were able to shrug off some of Vervada's influence, but they were unable to do what they wanted to do and either help the enemy or flee. Murtagh wanted to help the Dras-Leoneans, still tormented by his betrayal – however coerced it had been – of the man he considered the rightful King. Thorn, however, had become disillusioned and still wanted to leave Alagaësia and its troubles behind. The two had argued endlessly, but still could not reach an agreement, and so they stayed, unable to do either but both miserably unhappy.

'Will we spend the rest of our lives like this, Thorn?' Murtagh wondered. 'Will we ever stop working for someone else? I didn't want to live like this. I wanted to live my own life, be independent. But here I am, standing around like an idiot and letting terrible things happen. I feel so useless!'

'So do I, Murtagh, so do I,' said Thorn, and Murtagh could feel the dragon's frustration mirroring his own.

'But there must be something we can do,' he said. 'There must be some way to stop her, fight back, get her out of our heads.'

'I've tried,' said Thorn. 'Endlessly. Every day, every night.'

'I know you have,' said Murtagh. 'We both have, and you know it. It's useless. And when she hurts us… sometimes it makes me feel like I'm going mad. What will happen to us, Thorn? After all this is over?'

'No doubt Eragon will become the new King,' said Thorn. 'And we'll have to help him stay in power.'

'He knows how to lead, that's certain,' said Murtagh. 'But he's no King. He's too emotional.'

'And too selfish,' Thorn added. 'He's become so… arrogant. It's maddening. Sometimes I want to knock him down and tell him to grow up or I'll bite his head off.'

'Strong he may be,' Murtagh agreed. 'But he's just a child inside. He'll be a bad ruler.'

'The people will love him better than Galbatorix,' said Thorn.

'Galbatorix was easy to hate,' said Murtagh. 'Cold, secretive, dark-looking and everyone said he was mad. But he kept stability, which is more than Eragon could do.'

'I didn't like him much,' said Thorn. 'But I trusted him. I'm surprised you agreed to work for him after he had you brought back to Urû'baen by force. And you say he punished you for running away.'

'He shouted at me,' said Murtagh.

Thorn snickered. 'Always so brave, aren't you?'

And then, suddenly, the sky darkened. Thorn looked up and saw that black clouds were gathering over Dras-Leona. And they were gathering very fast. Too fast.

Murtagh too looked up. 'That's…' he faltered. 'That's not possible.'

Lightning flashed. It was followed almost instantly by thunder. The wind picked up, and in moments it was strong enough to catch at Thorn's wings, forcing him toward the ground.

'What's happening?' Murtagh shouted.

Thunder roared. And then there was another roaring.

'Look!' Thorn cried.

There were dragons coming. Dozens of them. Red, green, blue, brown, yellow, violet… every colour of the rainbow. And at their head were two adults, both much larger than the others. One was flame orange. The other was black as night. And on the black dragon's back was a tiny figure, its dark hair streaming behind it in the wind.

Murtagh's mind froze. 'It's him! It can't be him!'

'It's Father!' said Thorn. 'Father's back, he's come to save us!'

And so he had. The wild dragons were back, and the stormy air was full of their roaring. Below, Mnenth and his blue dragon took to the air. Bravely – insanely – they were going to try and attack Kullervo in the air.

Thorn, panicking, flew straight toward the ground. He wanted to go to his father, but the storm terrified him. But he didn't have to go to Kullervo – Kullervo went to him. The orange dragon folded his wings and executed a fast and spectacular dive, letting the wind bear him down. He caught up with Thorn when they were only metres from the ground, and held out his foreclaws, arching his head upward away from him. But he wasn't aiming to kill, though at that speed he could have shattered the red dragon's bones. His huge front paws wrapped themselves around Thorn, and he flicked his wings once, powerfully, swooping straight back up into the sky like a swallow, carrying Thorn and Murtagh with him. Thorn didn't dare struggle. He hung passively in his father's grip, and Kullervo took them both with him, away over the lake and toward the Spine. He didn't stop until he had had reached his cave, and there he deposited Thorn in the middle of the floor.

Thornessa was waiting for them. 'Thorn,' she said, coming forward to meet him.

Thorn rose from his crouch, and Murtagh slid down off his back, landing in a heap on the floor.

'Mother,' said Thorn, lifting his snout and touching it to Thornessa's.

'Thorn,' said Thornessa. 'You're safe. Thank the stars and skies you're safe. And your rider.'

Murtagh stood, and bowed to Kullervo and Thornessa. 'You're back, Lord Kullervo,' he said.

'Yes,' said Kullervo. 'And now I must leave. Thorn, stay here with your mother. I have a battle to fight. Your time of enslavement is over. Your old master has returned.'

The orange dragon turned and left without another word, flying off back toward Dras-Leona as fast as he could go.

In the air over Dras-Leona, Mnenth and his dragon, Serenia, were still rising. It was hard work for Serenia, given the strength of the wind, but she fought against it, ignoring the instincts screaming at her to find cover. Overhead, the wild dragons were circling, waiting for some signal from their leader – the black dragon.

Mnenth could see the man seated on the black dragon's back. His elvish eyes, much stronger than those of a human, showed him the man's black hair and beard, and he recognised them. He recognised them all too well.

'It's him,' he told Serenia. 'He's back! He's back from the dead!'

Serenia said nothing. She fought on, narrowing her eyes to protect them from the wind, thrashing her wings with all her strength.

Above, the black dragon looked down and saw her – the pitifully small blue dragon, coming to fight. It roared, deafeningly loudly, lightning crackling around its wings. But Serenia ignored the sound. 'Die, monster!' she screamed.

It was all in vain. The black dragon opened its mouth and spat a plume of blue fire at her. Mnenth blocked it with a magical shield, then tried to cast the paralysing spell. But the black dragon was immune to it. From its back, the black-haired man raised his hand. A ball of black energy shot from it, and hit the elf full in the chest, knocking him from his seat. Mnenth fell, screaming, and Serenia dived after him. Too late. A vicious blow from the black dragon's claws felled her from behind, ripping her open with terrible ease. Serenia went tumbling from the sky, her lifeless body torn in half. Mnenth, still alive enough to feel her die, was not condemned to suffer for long. He landed among the buildings of Dras-Leona, where his passing was not mourned for long.

The black dragon did not pause to watch the dead dragon fall. It dived upon the ground troops, and the wild dragons followed as one.

It was a short fight. By the time Kullervo returned, most of Eragon's army had been wiped out and the Dras-Leoneans had rushed out of the city and taken control of their camp. The black dragon stood in its ruins, flicking its tail and growling, and three men came forward to meet it. They were in time to see the dragon's rider climb down from his seat, his long hair tousled from the wind.

They met under the black dragon's gaze, surrounded by the crackling thunder and the screams of the dying. Galbatorix looked at the three men, and smiled. 'Well,' he said. 'I didn't expect to see you again.'

Carnoc, Ulfrid and Leonol stared at him in wonder, then bowed low. 'I knew you'd come back, sir,' said Carnoc. 'I knew it.' He looked at Galbatorix, awe and respect in his eyes.

'You came back to save us,' said Leonol.

'Yes,' said Galbatorix. 'I'm sorry… sorry I ran away.'

'Ulfrid said you'd gone mad,' said Carnoc.

'Not mad,' said Galbatorix. 'Not really. I just… lost myself for a while. But you helped me remember. And I'll never forget it. Ulfrid, may I borrow your sword?'

Ulfrid drew the weapon, and handed it to Galbatorix.

'Thankyou,' said Galbatorix. He smiled. 'Kneel, please.'

Ulfrid, Carnoc and Leonol glanced at each other, then obeyed. Galbatorix touched the sword to Carnoc's shoulders, one after the other. 'Rise, Sir Carnoc,' he said.

Carnoc's eye's widened. 'Sir Carnoc? You can't-,'

'I can,' said Galbatorix. 'Am I not the King of Alagaësia? Then it's my privilege to knight those I consider worthy of it.' He touched the sword to Ulfrid's shoulders. 'Rise, Sir Ulfrid.' And then Leonol's. 'Rise, Sir Leonol.'

The three of them stood, all astonishment. 'Knights?' said Leonol. 'We're knights?'

'You certainly are,' said Galbatorix, returning the sword to its owner. 'It's a poor reward for all you've done for me, but it's the best I can offer right now. After this is over you'll be given lands to look after, and of course your children will have the opportunity to handle the dragon's eggs when they're old enough.'

'But we ain't the right sort to be knights,' Ulfrid protested. 'I mean, that's for posh types. I can't even read!'

'You'll learn,' said Galbatorix. 'The three of you have proven yourselves as brave as any of those inbred idiots who call themselves knights these days, and you've earned the title on the battlefield, which is the way it's been done for centuries. And believe me, I know all about that – I've lived for a century.'

'But sir-,' Leonol began.

'Now listen to me,' said Galbatorix, with pretended anger. 'I seem to recall that you said you believed I was your true King. So prove it and stop questioning my orders.'

'Yes, sir,' said Leonol.

'Actually, that should be "sire", but let's not get worked up about the technicalities,' said Galbatorix. 'There's work to be done, so let's get to it.'

'That's right, sir – I mean, sire,' said Carnoc, grinning. 'We've got a war to fight.'

'And a Brat to kill,' Leonol added fiercely.

The victory at Dras-Leona was a complete one, and one that would go down in history. The wild dragons, under the joint leadership of Kullervo and Galbatorix, annihilated both the besieging army and the second one that came hurrying to join the fight on the following day. Mnenth was dead, and when Eivah came, leading the second army, she too was killed. Galbatorix took command of the city, where he was hailed as a returning hero, and his three newly-knighted companions were happy to serve as his lieutenants.

As for Murtagh, he waited out the battle in Kullervo's cave with Thorn, suffering from terrible uncertainty all the while. Thornessa was there, keeping watch by the entrance, but when he tried to speak to her she proved unhelpful, telling him that he would find out what was going on eventually but that she wasn't going to tell him anything.

'This is terrible,' Murtagh said eventually. 'When Eragon finds out we left the battle, he'll kill us!'

'No he won't,' Thornessa told him. 'All anyone else saw was Kullervo carrying you both away, and you can hardly be blamed for that. Now be quiet. Someone's coming.'

The brown dragon stayed where she was for a few minutes, her muscles tensing in readiness to fight. But then she relaxed and moved aside. There was a rush of air, and a black dragon about the same size as Thorn landed in the entrance and walked into the cave. The dragon had silver wing-membranes, and one eye was also silver. The other was hidden behind a mess of scarred skin and mangled scales.

'Valdyr!' said Murtagh, moving toward him. 'You're alive!'

'Hello, Murtagh,' said Valdyr, looking at him with a wary expression. 'Hello, Thorn.'

Thorn came to stand by Murtagh's side. 'We thought you were dead,' he said.

Valdyr sat back on his haunches at a respectable distance from them both. 'Did you now,' he said coldly.

'Listen,' said Thorn. 'We're sorry for what happened to Myrkyr and Hrafn. We really are. We didn't want to-,'

'You shut up about them,' Valdyr snarled. 'What you wanted or didn't want doesn't make any difference to me. You're just lucky Kullervo won't let us kill you for what you did. You and that treacherous rider of yours.'

'It's not like that,' said Murtagh. 'We didn't choose to betray the King, we were forced to. She made us do it. She got into our heads, forced us to do what she wanted.'

'It's true,' said Thorn. 'We can… I can still feel her there in my mind. She's trying to make me attack you right now.' The red dragon paused and shuddered, shaking his head convulsively as if there was something in his ear.

Valdyr did not look convinced. 'You'd better hope that you really believe that story,' he said. 'Because he's coming to see you right now, and he's very angry with you.'

'Who's coming?' said Murtagh. 'You mean Kullervo?'

'Someone with every reason to be angry with you,' Valdyr said cryptically. The black dragon turned his back on them and went to stand by Thornessa as she resumed her vigil.

Time ticked away, while Murtagh and Thorn watched and waited, both deeply frightened.

At long last there was a rushing of wind outside, this one much stronger than Valdyr's. It brought a second black dragon to the cave. A huge one.

Thornessa and Valdyr moved aside to let the dragon in, and before Murtagh knew what was going on the cave was dominated by the creature's presence. The dragon loomed over him, black in every scale, its golden eyes fixed accusingly on his face. Murtagh and Thorn cringed, backing away toward the wall, but there was no escape. The black dragon bowed its head, and a man jumped down from its back and came toward them.

A man in a black robe. A man whose slightly greying black hair hung about his shoulders like a curly mane. A man with a pointed black beard and a pale, scarred face. A man whose black eyes were fixed on Murtagh and Thorn, full of cold fury.

The blood drained out of Murtagh's face. 'My – my lord?' he said. 'Is that you?'

The man stood there, towering over him, the black dragon looming behind him like a massive shadow. For a few agonising seconds he said nothing. Then he strode forward and punched Murtagh in the face.

Murtagh sprawled on the ground, his eye blackening, still staring thunderstruck. 'It can't be you,' he said. 'It's impossible.'

Galbatorix stood over him. 'I'd believe it if I were you, traitor. I'm back, and I am extremely angry.'

'But it's not possible!' Murtagh said again. 'You're dead. I saw you die. You can't be alive.'

'I wouldn't be if the Brat had learned to make certain his enemies were really dead instead of just assuming it,' said Galbatorix.

'But he did!' said Murtagh. 'He sent Thorn and me to make sure. I listened for a heartbeat. There wasn't one. You were dead. I saw you dead. The arrow had gone right through you. Your spine was broken in three places. Your heart had stopped. You were dead. You can't be here talking to me, it's impossible!'

Galbatorix's expression changed. 'I see,' he said. 'I suppose the Brat deserves some credit, then. But he's about to learn that I'm harder to kill than he thinks. Than a lot of people think.'

'But how, my lord?' said Murtagh, standing up carefully. 'How did… what happened? How did you survive?'

Galbatorix snorted. 'The time when I trusted you is over, boy. And you can thank Kullervo that I'm letting you live. He didn't want to risk Thorn's life, so part of our agreement was sparing you. But let me assure you that if it were up to me you'd never leave this cave. Either of you.'

'No!' said Murtagh. 'You don't understand! We didn't want to betray you, I-,' he paused, and switched to the ancient language. 'Thorn and I did not choose to betray you,' he said, carefully pronouncing each word. 'We were controlled by the monster. Vervada. She broke into our minds, forced us to do what she wanted. Ever since you… were lost, we've been in agony over what we did. Eragon is mad. We'd rather die than go on serving him.'

Galbatorix listened, and when Murtagh had finished speaking he glanced at Thorn for confirmation. The red dragon nodded and said; 'It's true, sire.'

Galbatorix looked thoughtful. 'It's true that she can control people,' he said. 'I have… seen her do it. But if you want me to believe you, you'll have to open your mind to me and let me see for myself.'

Murtagh hesitated. Both he and Galbatorix knew the full significance of this. All his adult life, Murtagh had kept his mind shielded from others. No-one, not even Thorn, had ever had full access to his thoughts and feelings. Even Galbatorix had refrained from breaking into his mind by force, knowing how much Murtagh valued his privacy. Now he stared challengingly at the young man, waiting for him to respond.

At last Murtagh said; 'If it will make you believe me, then do it. But… be careful. She's still in there. I can fight her now we're so far away, but she's still there.'

'I know how to deal with her,' Galbatorix said grimly. 'Don't you worry about that.'

He concentrated, reaching out toward Murtagh's mind from his own. For a moment the young man resisted, and then he opened his consciousness and let Galbatorix in.

Galbatorix did his best not to cause him any pain, but he searched through Murtagh's mind as thoroughly as he could, uncovering memories and feelings that had been hidden for a long time. Some of it made him sad. He saw how unhappy Murtagh's childhood had been, and found that the young man had subconsciously blamed him for it as much as he had blamed Morzan, his abusive father. He saw how much Murtagh had always feared him, and how he, like so many others, had believed he was insane. And he saw how frightened he had been when brought before him after being captured and brought back to Urû'baen. But he saw, too, that after Thorn had hatched for him he had found a new sense of purpose in life, and that in time he had come to trust the King that Alagaësia hated so much, even if that trust was not mingled with liking. But, of course, no-one truly liked Galbatorix. Except for Skade.

Later, when he fought against Eragon and the Varden on the Burning Plains, he had been torn. He regarded the other rider as a friend, and did not want to capture him and bring him to Urû'baen as Galbatorix had ordered him to. So he had let Eragon go, and faced his master's anger when he returned empty-handed. But during the years that followed he had come to see things as Galbatorix saw them, and to realise that the Varden were no better than the Empire – and that in some ways they were worse. It was this that had kept Murtagh loyal. Less naïve and self-righteous than his half brother, he had seen the sense in Galbatorix's arguments and had ceased to believe that the Varden was truly the force for justice it pretended to be. When Galbatorix released him from his oath of loyalty, which had been a gesture of great trust, Murtagh had finally ceased to resent working for him. When he began to see the reclusive King as a man rather than as some distant symbol of oppression, and when he started to sympathise with his beliefs, he had become calm and accepted his role in Alagaësia's workings. And after witnessing Eragon's behaviour as the situation became more desperate for the Varden, he lost his admiration for the younger man and began to look upon him with the same contempt as much of the rest of Alagaësia.

Seeing all this, Galbatorix didn't need to look any further to know that Murtagh had been telling the truth. He searched Thorn's mind and found that the dragon's own memories confirmed Murtagh's. He had been telling the truth. He also knew now that there was no question of Vervada's role in Murtagh's unwilling betrayal. Everywhere he looked in the minds of the two, he found the warped dragon's presence, cold and smothering. Her voice was there, urging Murtagh and Thorn to block him from their minds and attack. He could sense them both resisting, and knew that they had been doing it for a long time.

Seeing all this, Galbatorix felt a profound admiration for Murtagh. The other rider's life had been hard, harder than he'd realised, and his choices had been difficult ones. But he had faced them with a rare and special courage which Galbatorix had rarely encountered before. It made Galbatorix feel humble, and unworthy of commanding such a man.

With a heavy heart, he bent his will toward Vervada's cold presence, and after some effort he purged it from the minds of Murtagh and Thorn, setting them free. Once he had done he withdrew, and saw them both blinking in confusion.

Thorn groaned. 'Thankyou, my lord,' he said.

Murtagh knelt. 'You set me free,' he said. 'How can I possibly thank you?'

'Don't thank me,' said Galbatorix. 'I owed you that much. I'm sorry I doubted you, Murtagh.'

Murtagh stood up. 'We're ready to fight for you again, my lord,' he said.

'No,' said Galbatorix. 'Murtagh, I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago. I'm going to set you free. You don't have to serve me any more, or anyone else. You're free to go where you like now. I know how hard it's been for you, and I'm sorry for that. I was arrogant to think I had the right to control your life. I've been arrogant about too many things. A hundred years of ruling an empire will do that to you, I suppose. But you're free now. And if I don't survive this war, I want you to know that I'm choosing you to succeed me. You can refuse it if you like, but if you want the throne after I'm gone, it's yours.'

'But… I could never rule here,' said Murtagh, wide-eyed.

'You can if you believe you can,' said Galbatorix. 'You're a leader, and a good one. But I can understand if you don't want to do it. If you don't want to end up a sad old man like me.' He smiled wryly. 'Anyway… I leave it up to you. And I've got to go. Goodbye, Murtagh, Thorn.'

Galbatorix nodded to the two of them, then turned away and climbed back onto the black dragon, who had waited patiently through the whole exchange. The dragon turned away toward the cave entrance, and took to the air, closely followed by Valdyr. Murtagh and Thorn watched them go, but neither one could say a word.