The Red Rider - the tale of the other rider, the first son of Selena; mirror storyline avec missing pieces. MxN.
Okay. It is frickin' hard to write a prophecy so I hope you all enjoyed that. It looks easy, right? Just find some words that rhyme. NOT easy. If any of you have read The Underland Chronicles by the amazing Suzanne Collins, you understand where I got the inspiration for my prophecy. BTW, those books are awesome so totally check them out.
I saw The Departed last night and I feel like LDC's character in that movie is everything I feel about Murtagh, even though their situations are not at all congruous. But just that desperate, furious, immolating need for redemption and truth is electrifying. I guess what I'm saying is that, the movie is amazing and has a wonderful, though bloody and vengeful, poetry to it that I think the Inheritance series lacked, but I think Murtagh's character had the potential to convey. Also, how awesome was Mark Wahlberg?
Oh and I'm sorry I haven't been updating as often as before. A little thing called life happened and also, I've been dealing a tiny issue called attempting-to-finish-my-degree. Also, the fam and I went to Disneyworld and Miami beach for a week for vacay so I had no internet then. So to make up for my being irresponsible and awful: if you review, you get cookies! No jokes, I'm totally serious!
xoxo —ei
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 13, Taken
A soldier entered the ward behind us. He surveyed the scene before him—an elf, a dragon, a bedraggled man, and a witch crowded around the bedside of a weak-looking Eragon—with some alarm.
"Do you require assistance, Shadeslayer?" He asked.
"No, what is it you need?" Eragon asked, a steady blush coloring his cheeks.
"Shadeslayer? That's a new one." I muttered under my breath.
Eragon merely elbowed me in the ribs.
"I have a message for Murtagh Morzansson." The soldier's eyes slid from face to face until he found mine, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Your presence is requested in the banquet hall."
"By who?" I asked curiously.
"Her graciousness, Lady Nasuada."
The others looked at me, surprise on their faces. I could feel my own growing hot, probably flushed, under the scrutiny.
"Are you to take me there now?"
"Certainly."
"Then, I will find you later, Eragon." I hid my eagerness with difficulty, and took their leave.
The man led me up several hallways. I was starting to distinguish the routes now. Perhaps, I would be able to carve out a living here for myself after all.
We turned a corner and stumbled into the Twins. They shook themselves off with a cutting look of disgust at the soldier and then they looked to me. For a moment, their faces were blank, and then brilliant smiles spread over their faces, like twin suns rising over the horizon.
"Halt." The first Twin said. "We require Murtagh's services."
"For what?" I asked unhappily.
"Ajihad requires aid in clearing the tunnels below of Urgal vermin." The second Twin said. "Eragon is indisposed and we were informed that you are an excellent swordsman. I suppose you will make do."
"I'm afraid my presence is requested elsewhere. Lady Nasuada requested me to—"
"Lady Nasuada is confined to her chambers for disobeying her father's orders. She has no need for your assistance, said the first Twin smoothly, interrupting me.
"I beg your pardon," the soldier interjected. "But Lady Nasuada has just dispatched me to bring Murtagh to her."
The second Twin glared at him. "Are you contradicting us?" He blustered.
The soldier faltered. "No, sir, but she—"
"You are dismissed," the first Twin told him. "Murtagh, follow us."
They lead me back down to the battlefield after I collected my sword, but instead they directed me to one of the side tunnels. Several men stood there talking quietly. In their midst stood Ajihad.
Around me, the twisted and hacked bodies of Urgals were being carted away to be burned while women removed their loved ones from the bloody grounds of Farthen Dûr. Soot from the funeral pyres covered everything.
Their keening cries of grief filled my ears.
If I had died, would Nasuada cry for me? Would she ensure I had a proper burial? Perhaps. In any case, I knew Eragon would see it carried out.
All around me was nothing but the uncomfortable presence of death and the stench of decay, but I was numb to it. I had seen far worse. There was no glory in war, though there was little more glorious than a good battle.
"Ah, Murtagh!" Ajihad gestured for me to join the consensus. "I am glad you were found. It gives me great comfort to have you by my side. We are planning a siege of the tunnels, to clear out any Urgals that have remained behind. Egraz Carn will come behind us and Egraz Heim will lead the way."
He continued to wax martial about certain ploys they might use to tease out any lurking Urgals. I glanced away, at the each of the others surrounding him as he continued to speak.
The soldiers were grimy and covered in dirt and blood. They had no respite from the battle. Off to one side, the Twins were conversing mutely, their language a swift exchange of expressions and a series of looks to Ajihad and myself that seemed increasingly leery.
Loyal subjects of the Varden or not, I did not trust them.
"Alright, men!" Ajihad clapped his hands. "Follow me."
Upon his black brow, I saw a sheen of sweat. He had no respite either. This should have worried me for a weary general was generally quick to make costly mistakes, but it endeared me that he placed himself under the same ardor he expected from his men.
Without hesitation, I followed him into the tunnel, letting the darkness swallow me whole.
-x-
Three days.
For three days, we had been scouring the tunnels for Urgals. We had found a few, but they had not put up much of a fight, choosing to run after only a few minutes of combat.
But we were exhausted from having no respite, irritable from sleeping in the cramped tunnels, and uneasy because at any moment we might come upon another group of more intractable foes.
But now finally, Ajihad had permitted us to return to Farthen Dûr. Having found no more Urgals in the last twelve hours, we assumed they had all escaped or been ferretted out and breathed a sigh of relief.
In our crowded, squalid quarters, I had grown quite familiar with the other soldiers of whom there was an even dozen—humans and dwarves alike. They were a jolly sort, quick to laughter and quicker still to forgiveness. One I became especially well acquainted with was called Evandar.
The others were several years older and did not mix with us in conversation. Where we spoke of women, wine, and war, they spoke wearily to Ajihad of age and avenging anger.
He matched me in years though he was rather bloodthirsty for their age, speaking excitedly of how it felt to behead an Urgal, how he wished to face Galbatorix, tear him to pieces and drink his blood to appease his anger and humiliation at living his life like some half-squashed bug under a stone.
But it did not seem unusual for the others to hear this sort of language. Everyone, under the façade of bravado and unending enthusiasm for the resistance, was growing tired and increasingly bitter. Ajihad, I surmised, was not ignorant of the festering resentment, but he did not how to fix them.
"Let us stop here," Ajihad called back to the group. "We shall eat and rest and then make haste back the city."
We dropped where we stood like flies, exhausted to the point of collapsing. Bread, cheese, and thin slices of meat were passed around. I threw mine away, as it smelled of rot.
"So, Ajihad, do you think Nasuada is running the state well in your absence?" One of the older men asked, his tone jeering.
The others laughed lightly.
Apparently, this was an old joke, but Ajihad's visage darkened, his body tensing like a drawn bowstring. "I hope, for her sake, Jörmundur has assumed control," he murmured. His face contorted with an ugly scowl and others did not say another word after that.
"She is something, is she not?" Evander whispered to me. "Nasuada."
"I suppose," I said tersely.
"I am surprised that Ajihad has not yet married her off, but knowing, Nasuada, she has refused no end of suitors. My cousin, a soldier, proposed marriage to her, but she rebuked him."
"Is Ajihad looking for a match for her?" I asked, with difficulty. The words seemed to stick in throat.
"Of course. She is already seven and ten years. No respectable woman should make it to nine without an engagement. But then, Nasuada has never been quite what you should call normal, nor respectable."
"What does that mean?" I asked sharply.
Why did this talk bother me so much? I fancied her, but nothing more. There was no future for us, she knew that as did I. Then why did my blood boil in fury and my hands curl into fists?
"Ajihad brought her up as much as he would have a son. She trained with the soldiers, learned with the noblemen, and she bears herself as a man does. She doesn't have a touch of femininity about her."
Suddenly, I didn't like him. It was true: Nasuada didn't have a bone in her body that wasn't unyielding and tenacious, but to me, that just made her more of a woman—more attractive and intriguing.
He frowned. "I never fancied her much meself. I couldn't stand a wife so headstrong. Why, she would never obey me."
And good riddance. You're an idiot.
"But I pity Ajihad," Evander went on. "What it must be like to have a daughter such as Nasuada! I am sure he lives in fear every day that he will see her death before his own."
I glanced over to where Ajihad sat alone forlornly, his head in his hands.
One of the Twins approached him. "Master, we should return to the city without delay. The dead are being prepared to be buried and your presence is required."
He nodded and rocked to his feet. The other men rose in a wave after him and we followed him wearily down the dark tunnel.
But I was no longer thinking of my weary body and sore limbs. I couldn't think of anything but Nasuada. Evander's words seemed to be echoing in my head: "No respectable woman should make it to nine without an engagement. But then, Nasuada has never been quite what you should call normal, nor respectable."
But what did that mean? Would she ended up married to some member of the Varden who was rich enough and well-educated enough to satisfy her father? Would she allow her father to choose for her? Would I be pushed aside?
Perhaps, she wouldn't marry at all. After all she wanted to rule the Varden after her father and I couldn't imagine her sharing her power willingly with the council, let alone a husband.
And what of us? Did she expect to propose marriage to her? Not now, surely, but in the future, yes, she probably would. Would she say yes? Would Ajihad accept?
Shouts up ahead broke through my troubled thoughts. I could see light very far up ahead—we had almost reached the city. But behind me where the body of our company walked, there were shouts and sound of swords being drawn.
"URGALS!" Evander shouted from the rear of the line of men.
From a tunnel to the right, dark shapes, unmistakable Urgals, streamed out towards. In the glint of light I saw that their eyes were curiously blank and unfocused.
Swords and axes clashed as our groups pressed together. We formed a circle around Ajihad and Twins and slowly began to move toward the exit. But we were outmatched. Every man faced three Urgals. And they fell on the rear of our train.
My old exuberance returned as I began to fight, but it was tempered by my fatigue. We were all simply too tired to perform. Four men were cut down before we had gained more than a few metres. The monsters had the advantage of surprise and quickly cut down four more men.
Was there anyone at the mouth of the tunnel who would hear us and come to our aid? Had they been expecting us to return now? Surely Ajihad had told someone…anyone…We would not survive otherwise.
I swung out ferociously at the two Urgals nearest me, catching one in the arm and nipping the other in the side so that my blade was embedded in his armor. They leered at me and my weapon released just in time for me to repel their swords.
I spun away from them, trying to gain space to move and I caught sight of Evander lying face down in the dirt of the tunnel floor.
I glanced behind me.
Ajihad, the Twins, and two men remained. Light flashed from one of the Twins, and an Urgal fell, clutching the stump of his severed arm. I cut down another Urgal and saw another fall to Ajihad's sword. But eight Urgals remained upright and able.
Suddenly, a swirl of motion disturbed the air, like a faint ribbon of dark mist filled the tunnel, surrounding us, separating us from each other. I couldn't see anyone in the miasma.
But slowly it cleared and I saw with rising horror and fear that the remained two men had fallen as well. Only three still stood: Ajihad, and the Twins.
What had happened? Had the Twins attempted magic that had gone horribly wrong in the confusion?
The remaining Urgals rushed toward us. I stepped in front of Ajihad and caught his eye for a moment and I knew we were thinking of the same thing.
Nasuada…
They surrounded us, their horrible, ugly faces leering.
They attacked without mercy, all eight aggressing at once. Two occupied me as the others converged on Ajihad. The Twins were covering behind us, weakly sending spells upon the attackers.
I'm sorry I did not keep my promise…
I was making good time with the two Urgals of my own, incapacitating one and turning toward Ajihad when a sharp blow struck my head.
Darkness occluded my vision as I fell weakly to my knees. Through my spinning, flickering vision, I saw the Twins approach me and felt something grab my arm. Ajihad was losing, persevering, but losing.
Please, do not forget me…
His foremost attacker raised his sword high above his head and brought it down on his breastplate.
I heard him cry out.
I collapsed and my world went dark.
-x-
I awoke to the sensation of being dragged.
I blinked as my surroundings came slowly into focus: I was moving forward without no apparent or visible means of transport. My knees and feet were dragging along the ground, the skin torn and bleeding. My hands were bound behind my back, my hands clasped together.
Also, I was almost nude.
I was wearing nothing more than my chemise, shivering comfortably in the cold breeze.
I was no longer in the tunnel. I was being dragged across a woody forest. But it was not the Varden's forest that Eragon and I had encountered on route to the Varden, but rather it was the fruitless wood of the Empire.
The Empire? But how could I possibly be in the Empire? It had taken Eragon and I an age to cross the Empire and reach the Varden, how could be back? I must have been unconscious for the journey, but according to my empty, snarling stomach it couldn't have been more than two days.
I blinked.
The forest had become a dry brush.
Blink.
A river.
Was I hallucinating? I must be. We couldn't possibly be moving so fast. Not even dragons can fly so fast and so far so quickly.
"He is awake, Egraz Carn."
My heart sank. I knew that voice.
I lifted my head slightly as two men came into my line of sight.
Two men that were entirely identical in every way.
-x-
Slowly, I began to distinguish between the two. Egraz Heim was tidy, but quick to anger and rash. Egraz Carn was more thoughtful but was unexpectedly bloodthirsty, laughed at the idea of pain in lesser creatures, and seemed to relish the possibility of having to hurt others on our journey.
But I still did know how we were moving. Every minute the scenery changed. We must have been flying, but the Twins could not have been so powerful as to fly us from the Varden to…wherever we were going. I did not know anyone who had that power, or did I?
"Where is Ajihad?"
Egraz Heim sniggered. "Dead, no doubt."
This angered me more than anything else. That they had hidden in the shelter of the Varden, until now and then exploded from within like a dirty parasite, killing its host in its rebirth. And Ajihad, who had given me a chance when no one else would—
Perhaps I caught him off guard, or perhaps righteous indignation more than anything else gave me strength, I ripped my hands and apart and lunged at the bald man, my feet finding purchase on the ground for just a moment until my hands closed around his throat.
"Aaaah!" He shrieked.
His brother winced, but, almost lazily, waved his hand and suddenly, my arms snapped to my side and my legs snapped straight and rigid so that I fell to the ground, feeling my bones reverberate as I thudded to the ground without a catch.
"Pathetic boy," he hissed. "You cannot win against us. We are his most loyal servants. We learned the Ancient Language from him. I know magic of such power—you can never hope to compete!"
A thrill of fear clenched my heart in its ice-cold hands. Him? Who exactly were they speaking of?
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice from breaking. I would not be afraid, not of them.
They did not answer me, but the other Twin, Egraz Carn, approached me. He gripped my face roughly in his hand. Up close, I saw them anew. They each had sallow skin, close-set eyes that make them appeared almost cross-eyed. The hand that gripped me was large, but convulsively dainty.
"I did not like you from the moment I met you, Murtagh Morzansson. You did not submit to my will. It was an unnecessary power, but you disrespected me still." He sneered at me, jubilantly. "Where is Eragon, Murtagh?" He asked softly. "He is not here to protect you now."
I realized I still hadn't breathed out. I exhaled, slowly, quietly. I felt paralyzed.
His voice became softer still, so soft that I could barely distinguish it from the whispering wind. "But today is your lucky day, Murtagh," he continued. "I'm in a mood to forgive." He leered at me. "What do you think of that?"
"That's generous," Heim blurted, "Especially after the rude manners he showed last time." He sounded unsure, excited, scared, all at the same time; his voice sounded like Egraz Carn, except his voice lacked his brother's languid tenor.
He was afraid, I realized, because he had no idea what his brother had in mind. And now, so was I.
Egraz Carn waved a dismissive hand. And his voice dropped a little. "Of course, nothing is free in this world, and my pardon comes with a small price."
"That is fair," His brother chimed in. "Nothing is free."
"You are lucky, because today, it's only going to cost you one thing. Your mind."
"No."
He blinked in consternation.
"No?" His lesser half repeated, in complete confusion.
"Do what you will with me, but I will never surrender my mind to you."
"Think it over carefully, Murtagh. There is no dwarf, no Ajihad here to protect you from my wrath. This is a small and fair price to pay for your insolence." He stepped closer until his face was directly in front of mine, his noxious breath washing over my face. He said slowly, "This is your last chance. Do not test me. My temper is not kind."
I screwed up the muscles in my face and, with all the contempt I could muster, I spat in his face.
Slowly, thoroughly, he wiped the spittle from his face as though he relished the movement. "Whatever you wish, Murtagh," he said. Then Egraz Carn deliberately unbuttoned the cloak he wore, and tossed it carelessly to his brother. "In fact, I've changed my mind, you may keep your mind undesecrated," he said with a grin.
Something warm was running down my face. I tasted it with my tongue and realized it was blood. I had bitten down my lip so hard it had split and blood was flowing over my mouth, down my chin to mix the dirty ground.
He knelt behind me where I lay on the ground.
"I will allow you to keep it consecrated, so that you will always remember what I am about to do."
I closed my eyes and braced myself.
I will not struggle. I will not scream. I will not show my weakness. I will not be broken.
Another relationshippy chapter, sorry. Though a twist ending, yeah? The inspiration for this chapter, if it wasn't already obvious, is Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner. Boy, that book makes me cry. I have mixed feelings about this chapter because I had such serious, epic writer's block when I got started, but then, the ending turned out so differently than I predicted and I just sort of let go and let it take me where it wanted. Let me know what you think!
…Well, did you review? Are you ready for your cookie? Okay, open up Windows Explorer. Now navigate to this folder from your C-drive. C:\User\Default\AppData\Roaming\Microsoft\Windows. Those are your cookies! How much does it suck for you guys that I am a compsci major? Hahaha, I am a dork. :)
PS. If you are a Mac user, I cannot help you. No one can.