Disclaimer: Don't own Eragon.
ALRIGHT 200!!! THANK YOU ALL!
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The tunnel glowed with a sapphire light generated by the strange, fireless lamps that lined the rough, rock walls. Alycie felt her legs tiring. The sedative was still coursing through her slowly, draining her strength. She looked up, her eyes meeting Murtagh's concerned gaze. She moved slightly and the knife tightened once again in response.
"This way," ordered her captor, backing through an archway, pulling Alycie along with him. The others followed silently. Alycie vaguely noticed the warriors' intent gazes on Eragon and Saphira. Tornac, Cadoc, and Snowfire continued down the tunnel passage, lead by two helmeted men. They edged down the narrow corridor, turning first right, and then left, then right once more into a massive, windowless marble room. The door closed behind them with an echoing boom followed by the sharp noise of a latch locking in place.
"There's an injured--" started Eragon, but the man holding Alycie cut him off.
"Do not speak! It must wait until you have been tested," he said. He removed the knife from Alycie's throat, pushing her into the waiting hands of a guard. She hissed in pain as he twisted her arms, holding his blade to her throat. She looked back at her original captor, looking him over properly. He was unusually tall, with a shining, bald head and a beardless face, wearing long purple and gold robes that added to his commanding air. He touched his fingertips together, regarding Eragon and Murtagh. "Remove your weapons and slide them to me," he said.
A dwarf warrior next to Alycie removed her sword, sliding it to the bald man. Eragon and Murtagh dropped their bows, quivers, Zar'roc, and the hand-and-a-half sword, stepping forward and dropping them into a pile. Alycie shifted her weight, and then froze. She had forgotten the small dagger that resided in her boot. It was there, pressing lightly against her ankle. The bald man spoke to Eragon.
"Now step up away from your dragon and slowly approach me," he said. Eragon complied. He walked towards the bald man slowly. "Stop there! Now remove the defenses from around your mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force...which would drive you mad. If you don't submit, your companion will be killed." Alycie's eyes flicked to Murtagh.
"Why!?" exclaimed Eragon.
"To be sure you aren't in Galbatorix's service and to understand why hundreds of Urgals are banging on our front door," replied the man. "No one may enter Farthen Dûr without being inspected."
"There isn't time. We need a healer!" insisted Eragon.
"Silence!" shouted the bald man. "Until you are examined, your words are meaningless!"
"But she's dying!" Eragon persisted, pointing at Arya, who lay limply on Saphira's back. Alycie felt the sword increase pressure on her neck and she squirmed slightly. Eragon was going to get her killed if he kept this up.
"It will have to wait! No one will leave this room until we have discovered the truth of this matter. Unless you wish--"
"Are you blind, Egraz Carn?" exclaimed the dwarf that had escorted Eragon from the lake. "Can't you see that's an elf on the dragon? We cannot keep her here if she's in danger. Ajihad and the king will have our heads if she's allowed to die!" The bald man scrutinized him. A moment later, his features grew smooth once more.
"Of course, Orik, we wouldn't want that to happen," he said, snapping his fingers. "Remove her from the dragon. Quickly, quickly!" The warriors hesitantly approached Saphira, unstrapping Arya from the saddle. They lowered her to the floor when one of the men gasped.
"It's the dragon-egg courier, Arya!" he exclaimed in astonishment. The bald man rounded on him.
"What?" he said sharply. Alycie saw Orik's eyes widen in surprise. The bald man turned to Eragon coldly. "You have much explaining to do."
"She was poisoned with the Skilna Bragh while in prison," said Eragon strongly, returning the man's gaze with just as much intensity. "Only Tunivor's Nectar can save her now."
"Very well. Take her to the healers, and tell them what she needs. Guard her until the ceremony is completed. I will have new orders for you by then," said the bald man. The guards nodded, carrying Arya out of the room. The bald man continued. "Enough of this, we have wasted too much time already. Prepare to be examined." Eragon stood still, staring at the bald man. Alycie looked at Murtagh, then back at Eragon, helpless to do anything. After a moment, the Rider opened his mouth.
"I am ready," he said, bowing his head. The bald man raised his head slightly in victory.
"Good, then--"
"You'd better not harm him, Egraz Carn, else the king will have words for you," interjected Orik the dwarf. The bald man rolled his eyes at him. The corners of his mouth twitched in a small smile as he looked back at Eragon.
"Only if he resists," he said smoothly, bowing his head.
Alycie winced as Eragon gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head, revealing the whites. He shuddered violently several times, a choking noise emitting from the back of his throat. Murtagh was watching the bald man warily, his fists clenched. Minutes passed like this. The Rider's face grew red and his neck muscles bulged. His fists clenched so hard that the knuckles turned white. At long last the bald man raised his head. Eragon seemed to come to himself as his muscles relaxed. He shook, swaying, and collapsed. A warrior rushed forward, catching him quickly and lowering him slowly to the marble.
"You went too far! He wasn't strong enough for this!" shouted Orik.
"He'll live. That's all that is needed," replied the bald man.
"What did you find?" asked the dwarf. The man didn't answer. "Well, is he to be trusted or not?"
"He...is not your enemy..." said the bald man reluctantly. The guards backed out of the middle of the room as Eragon recovered, standing. Orik steadied him with a hand as he swayed slightly.
"Easy now." He turned to Murtagh. "It's your turn now." Alycie quickly summoned her strength and twisted in the soldier's grip. She lifted her foot and drove the heel into his toes. He cursed, twisting her arm harder. She cried out sharply. The bald man turned his attention to her.
"Enough!" he barked at her. The warrior holding her pressed the blade into her skin with a firmer grip. She stopped struggling, staring at the bald man. He walked slowly over to her, gazing into her eyes piercingly. "Why don't we see just what's on your mind?"
'Saphira! Saphira help me!' Alycie thought frantically. 'Eragon! Somebody!' She braced herself for the pain. The bald man bowed his head.
It seemed as if one of the Kull were driving a javelin into her head. The pain she had experienced in Gil'ead returned with full force, jabbing through her skull. She tried to remember Eragon's short lesson, finding a point on the wall and focusing on it. The probe hesitated, then shattered the weak block as though it were a thin pane of glass. She jammed her eyes shut as they rolled backwards. Memories once again flashed through her mind. Dras-Leona. Garrick. The palace. Then they became more recent. Gil'ead. The Ramr. The Hadarac. He was drawing closer to Murtagh's confession. Alycie tried once more to block him, but he smashed the resistance down once again, sapping her strength.
A warm presence, quite unlike the hammering probe, made its way into her mind then. It wrapped itself around almost every recent memory of Murtagh, hiding their romance and his secret. The pain didn't lessen, however. The pain would rush on in a throbbing wave, gradually recede somewhat, then rush back on in a fresh wave every few seconds. Minutes passed like this. Alycie shook violently, biting her lip until it bled. The probe lingered agonizingly on the memory of the Gil'ead prison and the figure in the Hadarac, as well as the Ra'zac's first attack.
Then, with a particularly strong wave of pain, Alycie felt the probe scramble like a spider to the back of her mind, digging into something. A light blankness erupted through her head, making her all but forget about the pain. She felt outside herself, floating. Then another wave struck, returning her to her present state. A sharp shudder coursed down her body as the blankness receded. The probe examined a few more things, and then extracted itself.
Alycie let out her breath in a ragged sigh, her knees giving way beneath her. The warrior supported her as her strength returned slowly. She opened her eyes groggily, looking at Murtagh. He seemed to be using all of his resolve to stay where he was. A drop of blood fell, staining the marble below. In her writhing pain, she had cut it on the blade by her skin. The warm presence had vanished from her mind, but the blankness remained in a small cloud, waiting to be used. She looked at Orik, then at the bald man.
"Is she dangerous?" the dwarf asked impatiently.
"She has the ability to use magic," said the bald man. A silence followed this as Eragon and Murtagh looked at Alycie. She looked from one to the other in alarm.
"No...no I can't," she protested to the bald man.
"You can't hide anything, girl. Don't lie," said Orik in a firm voice.
"But I can't...I couldn't..." continued Alycie in confusion.
"But is she our enemy?" asked Orik. The bald man shook his head.
"No," he said. "But it does make her dangerous."
"I swear to you," Alycie persisted. "I can't use magic!"
"Silence, girl!" commanded the bald man. "You will be questioned on this later." He turned to Murtagh. "Your turn now." Murtagh stiffened, shaking his head.
"No."
"You will not be protected here if you refuse," said Orik.
"Eragon has been declared trustworthy. So has Alycie. You cannot threaten to kill either of them to influence me. Since you can't do that, nothing you say or do will convince me to open my mind," said Murtagh.
"What of your own life? I can still threaten that," said the bald man ominously.
"It won't do any good," said Murtagh coldly. Nobody doubted him.
"You don't have a choice!" exploded the bald man, walking deliberately to Murtagh and pressing his palm to his forehead forcibly. Murtagh's body seized up immediately, his teeth clenching, muscles bulging in protest. The bald man hissed in fury, his fingertips clawing into Murtagh's skin.
"Stop it!" yelled Alycie. "Leave him alone!" The blankness suddenly erupted once again in her mind. The dagger slipped out of her boot in a flash, shooting past the bald man's head. It imbedded itself in the marble wall with considerable force, missing the man's ear by a hairsbreadth. The man removed his hand from Murtagh, rounding on her.
"Do you see!?" he cried. "The girl is a danger!" He lifted his hand, pointing it at her, but the dwarf, Orik, stepped forward and pushed him away with force one would not expect from a person his size.
"That is enough!" he cried. The bald man whirled around to face him in fury.
"How dare you! You questioned my leadership, opened the gates without permission, and now this! You've shown nothing but insolence and treachery. Do you think your king will protect you now!?" he cried.
"You would have let them die! If I had waited any longer, the Urgals would have killed them," retorted the dwarf. He pointed at Murtagh, who was panting heavily. "We don't have any right to torture him for information! Ajihad won't sanction it. Nor can you punish the girl for having magic she claims she wasn't even aware of; nor, it seems, can she control it. Not after you've examined the Rider and found him free of fault. And they've brought us Arya."
"Would you allow him to enter unchallenged? Are you so great a fool as to put us all at risk?" raged the bald man. "Or what about the girl? Would you let an unknown magic user just waltz in and take up residence?"
"Can the boy use magic?" demanded Orik.
"That is--"
"Can he use magic!?" The bald man put his hands behind his back.
"No."
"And does the girl mean us harm?"
"...No."
"Then what do you fear? It's impossible for the boy to escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. And if she means us no harm, then why raise a complaint? But don't listen to me; ask Ajihad what he wants done." The bald man looked at Orik, then at the ceiling, muttering to himself, eyes closed. He looked at the warriors piercingly.
"Leave, now!" he commanded. They complied. The warrior holding Alycie lowered his blade and let her hands free. He joined the throng filing out of the door, but before he left Alycie's side, she could have sworn she heard him apologize briefly in a low, hurried voice. The bald man followed them, pausing to speak to Eragon. "Because I was unable to complete my examination, you, the girl, and...your friend will remain here for the night. He will be killed if he attempts to leave." He swept out of the room in a whirl of gold and purple.
"Thank you," Eragon whispered to the dwarf as he passed.
"I'll make sure some food is brought," grunted Orik, closing the door. The latch slid into place once more, and they were alone.
All three sank to the floor at once. Eragon looked drowsily at Murtagh, who was staring at the floor with an empty gaze, looking lost. Alycie stared at the knife, still in the marble wall. It seemed impossible that she had done that. She wiped her bleeding neck on her sleeve, turning her attention to the arrowhead still lodged in her right arm. She remembered Saphira's arrow in the woods in Gil'ead and how they had extracted it. Ripping off a piece of cloth from her tunic, she jammed it between her teeth, rolling up her sleeve to examine the wound. Dark blood stained her entire arm. She found what was left of the shaft poking through her torn skin and grasped it, preparing herself. With a muffled shriek of pain, she jerked the head out, causing a new flow of blood. Murtagh crawled over silently, ripping his own tunic. He took her arm gently and wrapped the strip of cloth around the bleeding wound, stemming the flow. Alycie removed the cloth from her mouth, using it to mop up her neck. Eragon looked at Murtagh.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Murtagh nodded jerkily. "Did he get anything from you?"
"No," said Murtagh.
"How were you able to keep him out? He's so strong."
"I've...I've been well trained," muttered Murtagh bitterly. They fell into silence. Alycie pulled her knees into her chest, setting her chin on them as she stared at the knife still. Murtagh was looking into the corners, lost in thought.
"I didn't let them know who you are," said Eragon suddenly. Murtagh sighed in relief.
"Thank you for not betraying me," he said. "But didn't they read Alycie's--"
"I had Saphira block them for her," said Eragon. "He would have recognized my presence." Murtagh nodded gratefully. Alycie didn't speak, still staring at the knife with wide eyes. Eragon continued. "They didn't recognize you."
"No."
"And you still say that you are Morzan's son?" Alycie twitched.
"Yes," sighed Murtagh. Eragon stood, seeing the blood that dripped from Saphira's wings. He moved along them, saying the ancient words of healing. Alycie's eyes flicked to him, watching. He healed them all, slumping to the floor next to the dragon in exhaustion.
"So, Alycie, it seems you can use magic," he said. Alycie buried her face in her knees, wrapping her arms around them tightly. Murtagh looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked.
"She didn't know, Murtagh," said Eragon. "I didn't even know, and I've read her mind."
"How can you not know?" asked Murtagh.
"I didn't...I can't use magic," denied Alycie in a muffled voice.
"You did," said Eragon, pointing at the knife in the marble wall. "There's no use denying it." Alycie looked up at it, frightened.
"I didn't...didn't mean to..." she said. "I didn't know, I swear!" Murtagh placed an arm around her shoulders soothingly.
"We believe you," he said, kissing her cheek. "And thank you for stopping him." Alycie wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He sighed, touching lightly where her neck had been cut. She looked up at him.
"They were going to use me to get into your mind," she said. "I had to distract them somehow to examine me first." Murtagh kissed her on the top of the head.
"Thank you again," he said. Alycie smiled into his tunic.
"I hope they bring food soon," she mumbled. Murtagh laughed. Eragon was staring at him expressionlessly.
"Why are you here?" he asked. Murtagh looked up.
"What?"
"If you really are Morzan's son, Galbatorix wouldn't let you wander around Alagaësia freely. How is it that you managed to find the Ra'zac by yourself? Why is it I've never heard of any of the Forsworn having children? And what are you doing here?" he shouted. Murtagh sighed, pushing his bangs back off of his head.
"It's a long story," he said.
"We're not going anywhere," said Eragon, eyes narrow.
"It's too late to talk," said Murtagh.
"There probably won't be time for it tomorrow."
"It's better to get it off your chest now while you have the chance," said Alycie. Murtagh sighed, sliding back to lean against the wall. Alycie crawled after him, laying her head on his chest once more. He twisted his fingers through her hair, staring at the floor.
"It's not a--" He stopped, then spoke again. "I don't want to stop...so make yourself comfortable. My story will take a while." He took a deep breath. "As far as I know...I am the only child of the Thirteen Servants, or the Forsworn as they're called. There may be others, for the Thirteen had the skill to hide whatever they wanted, but I doubt it, for reasons I'll explain later. My parents met in a small village...I never learned where...while my father was traveling on the king's business. Morzan showed my mother some small kindness, no doubt a ploy to gain her confidence, and when he left, she accompanied him. They traveled together for a time, and as is the nature of these things, she fell deeply in love with him."
Alycie blinked. This story was familiar. It was hers. They had met outside a village while he had been tracking the king's servants. He had showed her kindness by helping while she was sick and they had traveled together. And she was in love with him. A son of the Empire in a romance with an unknown girl from a common town. The resemblance was scary.
"Morzan was delighted to discover this not only because it gave him numerous opportunities to torment her but also because he recognized the advantage of having a servant who wouldn't betray him," Murtagh continued. "Thus, when Morzan returned to Galbatorix's court, my mother became the tool he relied upon most. He used her to carry his secret messages, and he taught her rudimentary magic, which helped her remain undiscovered and, on occasion, extract information from people. He did his best to protect her from the rest of the Thirteen...not out of any feelings for her, but because they would have used her against him, given the chance. For three years things proceeded in this manner, until my mother became pregnant."
He paused, continuing to twirl Alycie's hair around his fingers in his daze. Eragon and Saphira were looking at them intently, listening. Alycie looked up at him and he continued.
"My father was, if nothing else, a cunning man. He knew that the pregnancy put both him and my mother in danger, not to mention the baby...that is, me. So, in the dead of night, he spirited her away from the palace and took her to his castle. Once there, he laid down powerful spells that prevented anyone from entering his estate except for a few chosen servants. In this way the pregnancy was kept secret from everyone but Galbatorix. Galbatorix new the intimate details of the Thirteen's lives: their plots, their fights, and, most importantly, their thoughts. He enjoyed watching them battle each other and often helped one or the other for his own amusement. But for some reason he never revealed my existence.
"I was born in due time and given to a wet nurse so my mother could return to Morzan's side. She had no choice in the matter. Morzan allowed her to visit me every few months, but otherwise we were kept apart. Another three years passed like this, during which time he gave me the...scar on my back." He hesitated grudgingly before continuing.
"I would have grown to manhood in this fashion if Morzan hadn't been summoned away to hunt for Saphira's egg. As soon as he departed, my mother, who had been left behind, vanished. No one knows where she went, or why. The king tried to hunt her down, but his men couldn't find her trail...no doubt because of Morzan's training. At the time of my birth, only five of the Thirteen were still alive. By the time Morzan left, that number had been reduced to three; when he finally faced Brom in Gil'ead, he was the only one remaining. The Forsworn died through various means: suicide, ambush, overuse of magic...but it was mostly the work of the Varden. I'm told that the king was in a terrible rage because of those losses.
"However, before word of Morzan's and the others' deaths reached us, my mother returned. Many months had passed since she had disappeared. Her health was poor, as if she had suffered a great illness, and she grew steadily worse. Within a fortnight, she died."
"What happened then?" asked Eragon eagerly.
"I grew up," said Murtagh with a shrug. "The king brought me to the palace and arranged for my upbringing. Aside from that, he left me alone."
"Then why did you leave?" asked Eragon. Murtagh laughed coldly.
"Escaped is more like it. At my last birthday, when I turned eighteen, the king summoned me to his quarters for a private dinner. The message surprised me because I had always distanced myself from the court and had rarely met him. We'd talked before, but always within earshot of eavesdropping nobles."
It reminded Alycie all too much of the mayor's palace back in Dras-Leona. Nobles sneaking around, trying to listen in on others' conversations. Of course they were nowhere near as skilled as eavesdropping as the servants had been.
"I accepted the offer, of course, aware that it would be unwise to refuse. The meal was sumptuous, but throughout it his black eyes never left me. His gaze was disconcerting; it seemed that he was searching for something hidden in my face. I didn't know what to make of it and did my best to provide polite conversation, but he refused to talk, and I soon ceased my efforts. When the meal was finished, he finally began to speak. You've never heard his voice, so it's hard for me to make you understand what it was like. His words were entrancing, like a snake whispering gilded lies into my ears. A more convincing and frightening man I've never heard. He wove a vision: a fantasy of the Empire as he imagined it. There would be beautiful cities built across the country, filled with the greatest warriors, artisans, musicians, and philosophers. The Urgals would finally be eradicated. And the Empire would expand in every direction until it reached the four corners of Alagaësia. Peace and prosperity would flourish, but more wondrous yet, the Riders would be brought back to gently govern over Galbatorix's fiefdoms.
"Entranced, I listened to him for what must have been hours. When he stopped, I eagerly asked how the Riders would be reinstated, for everyone knew there were no dragon eggs left. Galbatorix grew still then and stared at me thoughtfully. For a long time he was silent, but then he extended his hand and asked, 'Will you, O son of my friend, serve me as I labor to bring about this paradise?'
"Though I knew the history behind his and my father's rise to power, the dream he had painted for me was too compelling, too seductive to ignore. Ardor for this mission filled me, and I fervently pledged myself to him. Obviously pleased, Galbatorix gave me his blessing, then dismissed me, saying, 'I shall call upon you when the need arises.'"
Alycie didn't move, finding her feelings suddenly violently conflicted. The fingers that so lovingly stroked her hair in comfort now seemed as much an enemy's as her love's. What he was telling them now seemed too dark to be true. The Murtagh they...the Murtagh she knew would never have pledged his services to Galbatorix. He never would have eagerly accepted his blessing. Yet he had. And here she was lying against him, his completely in body and mind. She suddenly wondered if this was how his mother had felt, entranced by a Forsworn...
"Several months passed before he did," Murtagh was saying. "When the summons came, I felt all of my old excitement return. We met in private as before, but this time he was not pleasant or charming. The Varden had just destroyed three brigades in the south, and his wrath was out in full force. He charged me in a terrible voice to take a detachment of troops and destroy Cantos, where rebels were known to hide occasionally. When I asked what we should do with the people there and how we would know if they were guilty, he shouted, 'They're all traitors! Burn them at the stake and bury their ashes with dung!' He continued to rant, cursing his enemies and describing how he would scourge the land of everyone who bore him ill will. His tone was so different from what I had encountered before; it made me realize he didn't possess the mercy or foresight to gain the people's loyalty, and he ruled only through brute force guided by his own passions. It was at that moment I determined to escape him and Urû'baen forever.
"As soon as I was free of his presence, I and my faithful servant, Tornac, made ready for flight. We left that very night, but somehow Galbatorix anticipated my actions, for there were soldiers waiting for us outside the gates. Ah, my sword was bloody, flashing in the dim lantern glow. We defeated the men...but in the process Tornac was killed."
He hesitated, letting out a sad sigh.
"Alone and filled with grief, I fled to an old friend who sheltered me in his estate. While I hid, I listened carefully to every rumor, trying to predict Galbatorix's actions and plan my future. During that time, talk reached me that the Ra'zac had been sent to capture or kill someone. Remembering the king's plans for the Riders, I decided to find and follow the Ra'zac, just in case they did discover a dragon. And that's how I found you...I have no more secrets."
"So why don't you join the Varden?" asked Eragon after a moment. "They'll distrust you for a time, but once you prove your loyalty they'll treat you with respect. And aren't they in a sense your allies? They strive to end the king's reign. Isn't that what you want?"
"Must I spell everything out for you?" said Murtagh angrily. "I don't want Galbatorix to learn where I am, which is inevitable if people start saying that I've sided with his enemies, which I've never done. These...these rebels," he spat, "are trying not only to overthrow the king but to destroy the empire...and I don't want that to happen. it would sow mayhem and anarchy. The king is flawed, yes, but the system itself is sound. As for earning the Varden's respect: Ha! Once I am exposed, they'll treat me like a criminal or worse. Not only that, suspicion will fall upon you because we traveled together!" He looked down at Alycie. "That goes double for you, considering we're an item."
"It isn't that bad," said Eragon. Murtagh snorted, turning away. "I'm sure that they won't be--" The door opened suddenly. Two wooden bowls full of food slid through the opening and it shut quickly.
"Finally!" said Murtagh.
Alycie got off of him and he got up, walking to the bowls. Inside lay a raw chunk of meat and a loaf of bread. He tossed the meat to Saphira, who chomped it out of the air in one bite, and tore the bread into pieces, tossing one to Eragon. He walked back over to Alycie, handing her the other piece. She looked at the floor uncomfortably as he leaned against the wall, sliding down next to her.
"Alycie..." he said. She looked at him. "You don't..." He broke off, but his eyes told the meaning. She paused, then leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips. He remained uneasy, but nodded, returning to his bread. Alycie stared at hers with no appetite.
"You can have this," she said, handing it to Murtagh, who looked at her quizzically. "I'm going to sleep."
She reluctantly crawled a few feet away from Murtagh and lay down, resting her head on her arms. As she closed her eyes, the sleepless nights, fatigue from endless travel, stress from fighting, and the remains of the Urgals' sedative hit her all at once like a wall, sending her immediately to sleep.
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