Chapter 21: And So It Comes To This

The sound of stones crashing together woke me in the morning. Damn you people! Can't a girl get some sleep around here! But I suddenly remembered where I was, and a feeling of dread filled my heart. I raised my head and saw the ugly bald man walking towards us across the chamber. I'd fallen asleep with my head on Murtagh's shoulder and my pressed up against his side, and I looked over to see that he was already awake, staring at the bald man with a look of hatred. Eragon stood up on my left.

"You have been summoned by Ajihad," the bald man said, "leader of the Varden. If you must eat, do so while we march." I couldn't refrain the scoff that escaped my lips. It should have been common knowledge that we would need to eat. He shot me a withering glance but said nothing more.

"Where are our horses?" Eragon inquired, always the obnoxious one. "And can I have my sword and bow back?" The bald man sneered at him.

"Your weapons will return to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. As for your horses, they await you in the tunnel. Now come!" he snapped, turning quickly on his heels. Murtagh stood and then reached down a hand, helping me to my feet. We walked slowly out of the chamber into the corridor we'd come from before.

"How is Arya?" Eragon asked. I wanted to slap him right then and there, but I held back.

"I do not know," the bald man said hesitantly. "The healers are still with her." As we continued to walk, I noticed statues of strange animals set into alcoves all along the wall. There was a statue of one creature that looked like a wolf, but it was huge and feral-looking. What strange place is this? Finally, we came to the huge tunnel where we'd come into the mountain. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the bald man with the horses. Where is Cadoc?

"Eragon?" I whispered quietly, looking over at him. He made to speak, but then stopped. "Eragon, where is Cadoc?"

"Tabby... I meant to tell you last night, but he didn't make it. An arrow caught him in the side..." I turned my face away as I felt the tears coming to my eyes. After going through so much along this journey with the faithful horse by my side, it had ripped a hole in my heart to hear that he had been slain. But before I could grieve, the bald man spoke again.

"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," he instructed. "If you attempt to go anywhere else, you will be stopped." Eragon made to crawl into Saphira's saddle, but the bald man stopped him. "No!" he screeched. "You will ride your horse until I tell you otherwise."

"There aren't enough," Eragon retorted.

"I am aware, boy. We found the body of the other horse on the lake shore. You, girl," he snapped at me tersely, "come here. You will ride with this one." He narrowed his eyes in Murtagh's direction.

"I have a name, you know," I spat venomously as I climbed into Tornac's saddle. "And so does he."

"Oh yes, I know," he seethed, a sickening grin splitting his face, "I just don't care." I wanted to rip his throat out, but one glance from Murtagh silenced my rage. Murtagh climbed up into the saddle behind me, reaching around to take the reins from my hands. His body pressed against mine as he reached forward, and I felt myself shudder slightly.

Your life is on the line and you're really thinking about that? I thought to myself. Saphira rumbled behind me, and I could only assume she was laughing because she heard what I said. I'd have to be more careful with my thoughts around her. Eragon pulled himself into Snowfire's saddle in front of us and the dwarf and the bald man led our procession. Murtagh gave me a comforting squeeze around the waist.

As we rode, I couldn't help but marvel at the skill with which this tunnel had been mined. The dwarves truly were as gifted as the stories say. We continued through this gigantic tunnel for nearly an hour. And after riding for so long, I was becoming tired. My anxiety was rising out of fear that Ajihad, the leader of the Varden, would recognize who I was, which only served to sap my strength even more. Murtagh must have sensed my apprehension.

"We'll be okay Tabatha," he whispered in my ear, leaning into my back. I turned my face slightly towards him. "No matter what happens, I won't let them hurt you." I nodded to show him my thanks and turned forward. The tunnel was beginning to change, and a colossal black door marked the end of it. We stopped in front of the door and the bald man turned to speak to Eragon.

"You will ride upon your dragon now. Do not attempt to fly away. There will be people watching, so remember who and what you are." This bald man really was—as Murtagh so eloquently put it—a bastard. There was no way Eragon would just abandon Murtagh and me... would he? I watched as he dismounted Snowfire and climbed up into Saphira's saddle, using her muscled foreleg. I could tell that this was all just a ploy to show them off, but did Eragon see that too? Hopefully he wouldn't make too much of a fool out of himself.

"I'm ready," Eragon said, rolling his shoulders backwards.

"Good," the bald man said, something insidious in his voice. There was just something about this bald man that put me on edge and made me feel very... uncomfortable. No, that wasn't the right word. It was more a feeling of being watched. Suddenly, the huge doors began to open, snapping me out of my thoughts. Once they were open completely, we made our way through them into a huge chamber.

It was actually a massive volcanic chamber, empty of all magma, of course. There was a narrow hole at the top so high above us that it was unfathomable to think that Eragon and Saphira could ever fly that high. The entire chamber was shrouded in darkness except for where little floating lanterns spread their light. Once I lowered my gaze I could see that we were riding along a cobblestoned street that led straight from the door to a glittering, white mountain in the center of the empty volcano. I could hear the dwarf saying something to Eragon about the mountain being called Farthen Dûr, and the little white mountain-city being called Tronjheim, but I could barely hear any more of his explanations.

We finally reached the base of the mountain-city and went through those doors as well. A deafening cheer reached our ears as they opened and the people saw Saphira. Eragon was waving like some sort of celebrity, and I was sure he was enjoying all the attention. I giggled at him; savoring possibly the last moment of joy I would be experiencing for a long while. When the Varden found out about me—for they most assuredly would—I was doomed. They'd probably torture me for information that I didn't have; that, or they'd just kill me. I'm not quite sure which one would be worse at the moment.

Our party suddenly stopped as a woman stood next to Saphira, holding up a baby to Eragon. He reached down to the baby, placing his hand on the child's forehead and saying some words in the ancient language. A white light flashed and everyone cheered as the woman took the baby away. I saw the bald man sneering at Eragon over his shoulder, but we continued on. Everyone stared at Murtagh and I with puzzled expressions, but their gazes didn't linger for very long. They all were too concerned with the amazing sight of a huge, sapphire-colored dragon.

"This is humiliating," Murtagh muttered behind me. "I feel like a mule leading a pack of show ponies."

"It's almost done," I said reassuringly, taking hold of his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"It won't be quickly enough."

We reached another door and went through, ending up in a smaller corridor, just barely wide enough for Saphira to walk. Two guards flanked the sides of the door at the end of the hall. Murtagh dropped out of Tornac's saddle first, patting the huge warhorse lovingly on his flanks. He looked up at me expectantly, apprehension clear on his face.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice colored with worry and his eyes alight with fear.

"Not remotely. Are you?"

"Not a chance." He laughed bitterly, putting his strong hands on my waist and guiding me safely to the ground off the tall horse. After we'd come to our revelation that we had so much in common, he'd been acting differently towards me. And I thought it might be different in a good way...

The bald man pulled the heavy door open and conducted everyone inside. I could feel a knot forming in my stomach as I passed through the doorframe. This is it: my final moments as a free woman.

The room was large; it was two stories with cedar bookshelves lining the walls. A wrought-iron staircase led up to a balcony that held two chairs and a reading table. I would have loved to spend hours in this room, but I had a feeling this would be my first and only trip to the fantastic library. At the far end of the room, standing tall behind the large walnut desk, was a noble-looking man who could only be Ajihad.

His skin was dark and gleaming—like oiled ebony—from the light emanating off the many lanterns strewn about the room. The only hair that could be seen on him resided in a closely trimmed beard that covered his chin and upper lip. He was large, by any means, but there was a certain elegance to his size that I'd never seen before. There was only one word I could think to describe him: exotic. When he spoke, his voice was strong; confident; unwavering; and slightly affected with an accent I couldn't place.

"Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon and Saphira. I am Ajihad. Please, seat yourselves." He spoke as though Murtagh and I didn't even exist, which irked me slightly. We all strode forward and took seats in the large armchairs that were in front of the desk. Saphira stood behind us protectively. Suddenly, Ajihad snapped his fingers and I thought for a moment that I was seeing double.

"I can understand your confusion. They are twin brothers," he explained as two ugly bald men walked into the study. "I would tell you their names, but they have none." What? What kind of a person doesn't have a name? The Twins went to stand in a dark corner as Ajihad took his seat behind the desk, resting in a plush-looking armchair. He just sat there for a moment, staring us down. Pretty soon, it was making me extremely uncomfortable. What was he looking for?

Finally, his gaze rested on me, and something flashed in his eyes. He stared at me for a long time and then I knew: I was done for. He shifted his eyes to Murtagh and scrutinized him as well, before beckoning for the Twins to come over. One of them shuffled to his side and bent low so Ajihad could whisper in his ear. The bald man paled and shook his head. Slowly, the dark-skinned man turned his head back to Murtagh and me.

"You both have put me in a difficult position," he said slowly, his dark gaze passing between us. "You, young man, refused to let your mind be examined. And you, young lady, were simply overlooked in the chaos. Now, will you consent to the inspection?" I stared at him with a look of anguish upon my face and shook my head vigorously. Murtagh just remained silent, his face completely impassive. Ajihad sighed heavily, and I noticed Eragon staring at me in confusion. Of course he wouldn't understand why I wouldn't want my mind searched… "As long as you two refuse to consent, you cannot be trusted," he continued. I couldn't help thinking that they wouldn't trust me anyways.

"You wouldn't trust me anyways," Murtagh muttered, echoing my thoughts.

"Stop it," I hissed quietly, imploring him not to give anything away. Ajihad's face snapped towards me, and I realized I should have just kept my big mouth shut.

"You…" he breathed, slowly standing up and pointing a long finger at me. "I know that face…" Dread filled my heart as I felt it drop into my stomach. My breathing quickened and the pounding of my heartbeat filled my ears. Ajihad's gaze slid over to Murtagh. "And you… Though it has been twenty-three years since it last broke upon my ear… I know that voice." This is it.

I looked over at Murtagh, tears brimming in my eyes. He turned his head to me and I grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. It's just us against them now. "Stay near me," he whispered. I nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Though it came from a different man. One more beast than human," he continued, realization filling his eyes. He looked to me and narrowed them once more. "What is your name, girl?" How could I answer him? What do I do? If I don't comply, he'll only suspect me of hiding something more; if I do tell him my name, he'll certainly know who I am. Either way, I was going to lose. In a last act of desperation, I looked over at Eragon. But I only saw the look of horror and confusion upon his face.

I wanted him to help me; stick up for me; something! But instead, he did the one thing I didn't want him to. "Tabatha?" he breathed quietly. My heart broke into a thousand pieces at the feeling of utter betrayal I heard in his voice.

"It is you!" Ajihad bellowed. "Guards, seize her!" I instinctually jumped up as the soldiers filed towards me, one of them pinning my arms behind my back and tying them with a heavy rope so I had no chance of escape. I struggled against the ropes, but in vain. There was no chance of getting away. "You thought you could come here to tear us apart from the inside out!" the dark-skinned man screamed in a blind rage. Murtagh was being detained by the soldiers right now, and Eragon was on his feet, staring blankly in confusion. Saphira growled low in her chest, but there was nothing she could do without making them think we were all traitors.

"No!" I screamed in desperation, still trying to pull away from my captor. "It isn't like that!" I looked around the room, frantically searching for a helpful gaze. But the only one I found was Murtagh's.

"Tabby?" Eragon said weakly, his dark eyes pleading with me helplessly. "What's going on?" I wished desperately that there was something I could say, but no words came to my tongue. How could I make him understand?

"She," Ajihad spat, his finger still pointing at me accusingly, "is Galbatorix's daughter; a traitor; and a spy!" Eragon's face was frozen in horror as the words came out of Ajihad's mouth. "She and Morzan's son are working together to reveal our location to the Empire!"

"No. Eragon," I whispered pleadingly, "it's not like he says. Please, just let me explain!" My voice grew louder with every word, but Eragon just continued to stare in shock. The tears were now flowing in a torrent down my face, blurring my vision.

"Take them away and lock them in windowless rooms! Bar the doors securely!" he ordered the soldiers. The man who held me pulled on my bound arms, dragging me towards the door. Eragon just stood there and did nothing!

"No!" I screamed, fighting the soldier every step of the way. The man was struggling too to keep me in his control, but he was still stronger. "Eragon, please! Don't let them do this! You know I would never betray you! Eragon!" I watched in despair as he slowly turned his back on me. Murtagh and I were dragged out of the room, the heavy oaken door slamming shut with a resounding thud.

Ajihad told the men to lock us in windowless rooms─which they did─but they were too incompetent not to put us in rooms right next to one another. On top of that, there were vents at the bottom of the wall, so we could speak back and forth. But before I talked to Murtagh, I sat down on the small bed and buried my face in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I should have just told Eragon the truth from the beginning! Then it wouldn't have been so heartbreaking to see the look of betrayal on my best friend's face. When my tears were spent, I slid down along the wall and sat next to the vent.

"Murtagh," I called softly, my voice cracking a bit. My throat was raw from crying, but I was too upset to care about the pain.

"I'm here, Tabby." The walls weren't very thick, so it sounded like he was sitting right next to me. "I'm sorry that Eragon had to find out like that; it was horrible what Ajihad accused you of."

"What he accused you of too."

He laughed sharply. "I'm used to it. After a lifetime of being known as the son of Morzan, you get used to people expecting the worst from you." I pondered that a moment, and wondered how different my life would have been had I been raised by my father.

"He's going to hate me, isn't he? He'll never forgive me. Not after I lied to him for so long," I said morosely.

"Eragon will understand, Tabatha," he replied. "It may take him some time, but he'll come around. Have faith in him." I scoffed slightly at that.

"Would you forgive me, Murtagh, were you in his place? After I'd lied to you for months about my true identity, and that your mortal enemy is actually my father?" I spat, my voice sounding harsh to my own ears. I couldn't help the ire that had risen up inside me.

"Yes," he replied shortly. I started at that, flinching a bit. How could he?

"Well," I said slowly, "that's just because you're a good person."

There was only silence from the other side of the vent for a moment, and I wondered if our conversation was at an end. "I'm not a good person, Tabatha," he breathed quietly, his voice filled with an emotion I could not place. "I've done terrible things in my past; things that can never be atoned for. If you only knew… Well, let's just say you wouldn't speak so kindly of me."

"We all have regrets." I waited to see if he would say more; give me any more insight into his past. But he remained quiet.

"Do yours keep you up with night terrors?" His tone had suddenly turned darker; more hostile.

"No, they do not." I shook my head out of habit, knowing full well that he couldn't see me. "But the thing about regrets is that there aren't different levels to them. It doesn't matter what you've done, all regrets are equal in the end. What keeps me up at night may seem trivial to you, and vice versa. In the sight of the gods, all transgressions hold the same weight on the scales of judgement."

"The gods…" Murtagh scoffed, and I heard him shuffling slightly. "I fear the gods may have abandoned me long ago." I turned my head toward the vent.

"We are never forsaken," I breathed quietly. "Some trials are meant to test our fortitude, so we come out stronger on the other side. And others are meant solely to break us; to make us completely new. As for me… Well, I think I've been broken…"

"You're one of the strongest people I have known, Tabatha," he said. I gave a small smile at that.

"I need to tell you something, Murtagh." I waited to see if he would reply, but he seemed to be waiting on me to continue. Taking a deep breath, I chanced voicing the thoughts that had weighed heavily on my mind over the past few days. "I have treated you wrongly, and for that I am truly ashamed. From the very beginning, I misjudged you, and treated you accordingly without any just cause. I ask your forgiveness. And I wanted you to know that I count you as a true friend, Murtagh."

He was quiet for a long time, but I thought I could feel his smile through the wall that separated us. "Thank you, Tabby," he breathed. I heard him lay his head against the wall with a thump. "I hope I can continue to earn that title."

I smirked at that and felt a fluttering in my chest, glad to have told him. "It's been a long day," I continued. "We should rest. Who knows what kind of torture they'll subject us to in the morning."

"Rest well, Tabatha," he replied. I heard him get up from the floor, quickly followed by the squeaking of the wooden bed frame as he sat upon his mattress. I followed suit, crawling beneath the blanket that covered the mattress and squeezing my eyes shut. I rolled towards the wall, causing the mattress to squeal in protest, and I realized that our beds were next to each other, separated only by the thin clay and plaster. It gave me some comfort to know he was so close. Both in proximity and predicament.

At least I wouldn't be completely alone in this endeavor to prove I wasn't a traitor.

Eragon's POV

How can this be happening? It can't be true… Tabatha has been my best friend my entire life; she can't be the daughter of the king. Wouldn't I have known if she was a traitor? Or have I been blinded? No, she is not my enemy. She's my Tabatha… It can't be true! But no matter how much I tried to convince myself of the falsehood, I knew deep in my heart that it was true. Saphira only confirmed it. How could I have missed something like this?

It isn't your fault, Eragon. Stop punishing yourself, Saphira chastised quietly as she turned and circled before settling down in one of the huge nests of the Dragon Hold. Her sapphire scales glittered with a strange light as the red reflections off of Isidar Mithrim bounced off her body.

I can't help it, I continued, lying on the cot next to her. I just can't believe I didn't see it before.

Don't be too hard on her, she said, sleep evident in her voice. She wanted to tell you. But she was terrified you would act the way you did tonight.

What do you mean "the way I acted tonight"? I did nothing! I exclaimed.

That is the point, little one. You did nothing to help her when she was begging you to. I'm simply asking you to keep an open mind… and to talk to her about this. She is your best friend, after all... I sighed heavily, looking up at the stone ceiling and mulling over my thoughts.

I don't know when I'll be ready to talk to her. I'm still so angry she's been lying to me the whole time… Saphira? Hello? She was already snoring peacefully, so I let her be. I didn't know what to do. How can I look at her the same ever again? I had thought coming here would make us safe. But nothing has turned out the way I had planned.