Chapter Forty-Four
Waiting
The battle at Gil'ead and the capture of Oromis marked the beginning of the end for the Shur'tugal. From thereon in, the Forsworn ceased to be a group of elusive guerrilla fighters, and as ordinary humans rallied to Galbatorix's banner, it signalled the gradual descent of the entire country into civil war – a war that would one day be known as the Fall of the Riders.
After a few hours of sleep, Galbatorix and the Forsworn met once again in the dining hall to take some important decisions.
Galbatorix's eyes were darkened from exhaustion – evidently he had not slept much at all. 'I've been busy,' he announced, stifling a yawn. 'I've s-sent some letters. The urns have gone to Ilirea with a message saying we've captured Teirm and Dras-Leona. And I've sent messages to some urgal chieftains. Found some scholar in the library who translated 'em into their language for me. I've offered the urgals the chance to help us overthrow the elders. In return, they'll be given land and their rights back. I introduced myself as Prince Galbatorix Traeganni of the dark elves… my people and the urgals have been allies in the past – it's even said some dark elves bred with them. Yes, go ahead and pull that face, Morzan. Half-breeds really are quite offensive, no?'
'That's not what I-,'
'I've also written to Roland,' Galbatorix went on, ignoring him. 'I didn't say too much in case the letter was intercepted, but I made it clear that we're all fine and that he should contact us as soon as possible. Also, Durza arrived last night. I went down to meet him and let him know what was going on. I've got him in the dungeons keeping an eye on Oromis right now. Shades make very good sentries, actually. They don't sleep or let their attention wander, and they can sense magic. And they're more or less impossible to fool, too. Not that I think that old pervert would have the imagination.'
'That's good news, sir,' said Tranah. 'But you'd better tell us what happened with the dragons – I'd have asked last night, only I was having trouble seeing straight at the time. How did it go? Did you get this new leader on our side?'
'Unfortunately, no,' said Galbatorix. 'It seems we've already met, and I'm afraid it wasn't under good circumstances.'
'Go on,' said Tranah.
'His name is Kullervo,' said Galbatorix. 'He's Shruikan's brother, and not much bigger than him, so he must be a very good fighter indeed to have beaten Thornessa. And this will surprise you, but he's not actually a wild dragon.'
'You don't mean he's got a rider, do you?' said Strein.
'Well, he did until I killed her,' said Galbatorix.
The others groaned.
'Yes…' said Galbatorix. He sighed. 'Needless to say, he wasn't pleased to see me. In fact, he attacked me as soon as he realised who I was. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen. In the end I did the only thing I could really think of. I paralysed him and his mate, and took one of their eggs as a hostage.'
Tranah's mouth fell open. 'You did what?'
'I didn't have any choice. I've entrusted the egg to Kaelyn, and we're going to keep hold of it until Kullervo makes his decision. If he offers to ally himself with us, I'll give it back. But if he attacks us… I told him I would destroy the egg.'
Tranah groaned. 'That's not good, sir. That's not good at all.'
'He'll rip the world apart to get it back,' said Strein. 'What were you thinking? That won't make him help us, it'll make him our enemy for life.'
'It was cruel, yes, but it's got to work,' Galbatorix insisted. 'He won't want to risk the egg's destruction, and nor will he want to fight his own brother. And I can promise you that he's no friend of the elders; they persecuted both him and his rider, and his sister as well. If the wild dragons do attack us, then you, Kaelyn, will give the egg to me, and I'll hide it. Or if I'm not there, give it to Morzan and let him do it. If that happens, Morzan, be sure to hide it well and don't tell another living soul where it is. Kullervo will have to ask if he wants to know where it is. But if you lose it, then we're dead. In fact, if any of you lose it, I won't hesitate to break your legs for it.'
Tuomas and Gern snickered at that, but the others, looking at Galbatorix, weren't able to catch any trace of humour in his face.
Galbatorix yawned again. 'So, my suggestion for what we should do if we're attacked here in force – that is, if we can't…' he broke off and rubbed his eyes, blinking to try and make them refocus. '…if… if it becomes clear that we can't hold the city, then we'll leave it. We'll take the people with us and march on, say, Teirm or one of the elvish settlements. We'll take it and resettle everyone there, see if we can't hold on for a while. If we have to do that, we'll demolish the castle before we go. Make sure no-one else can use it. If there was just some way of staying in contact over long distances… it's driving me mad. In a manner of speaking.'
'I suggest we attack the elves again,' said Tranah. 'They're the elders' strongest allies, after all. If we can take out Ellesméra, and a few others – Sílthrim, for example, and definitely the larger ones like Nädindel and Kírtan – it'll cripple them. But we'd have to do it in force, and preferably with some troops on the ground as well. We'll have to wait until we know if the urgals are going to help, and until Roland has contacted us. He'll have arrived at Dras-Leona by now, so he shouldn't be too long, unless something goes wrong. Until then, we'll just have to sit tight. Oh, and sir? Does Kullervo know we're at Gil'ead? Sir? Hello? Sir?'
Kaelyn leaned over to look at him. 'He's fallen asleep.'
The next few days passed uneventfully, but very tensely. Galbatorix spent most of his time with Tranah, Strein and Morzan, studying maps and making plans. Durza and the three apprentices took sentry duty – the Shade watched over Oromis, and the three young riders watched from the walls with the dragons, constantly on the alert for any sign of attack. None came, and the city and the broken wall were steadily repaired by teams of workmen, occasionally aided by the Forsworn. At around the time that the work was nearly completed, Tuomas came to Galbatorix with a messenger bird perched on his arm.
'It's from Dras-Leona,' the young rider said, holding out the message to his master.
Galbatorix took the little scroll of paper and unfurled it. He instantly recognised the neat runes inscribed on it. 'This is Vander's handwriting,' he said.
To my Lord Galbatorix,
Dras-Leona has been successfully captured. Suggest you come to us for a full report.
Vander Zynthad
It was written in the ancient language. Galbatorix read it several times, and grinned. 'Perfect. C'mon, let's go and tell the others.'
Tranah, Morzan and Strein were highly pleased by the news. 'That's excellent, sir,' said Tranah. 'Are you going to go to them?'
'Yes, immediately,' said Galbatorix. 'Tuomas, you're coming with me. Go up to the dragon roost and get Ithír's saddle on. I'll get some supplies.'
'Yes, sir,' Tuomas said promptly, and hurried off.
'Now, then,' said Galbatorix. 'As soon as I've taken stock of the situation I'll contact Durza and he'll let you know. I'll be back as soon as possible. I'm sure you can hold on here well enough – if you get attacked, don't hesitate to make use of Oromis as a hostage. That ought to make them back off.'
'Right, sir,' said Tranah.
Galbatorix nodded formally and left. He packed a few bags with supplies and went up onto the dragon roost, where Shruikan and Ithír were saddled and ready. They would have to do without their armour – it would weigh them down too much on the journey.
Tuomas helped attach their luggage to the saddles, and he and Galbatorix mounted up.
Galbatorix strapped his legs into place and looked down at Tranah, Morzan and the rest. 'Well, good luck,' he said. 'I'll see you in a few days, most likely.'
'And good luck to you too, sir,' said Tranah. 'Be back quickly.'
Galbatorix nodded. 'May the light of the tharian lleaud protect you.' He took hold of Shruikan, and the black dragon took off with an easy flick of his wings, flying up and over Gil'ead and away Southwards.
Morzan lay back on the bed in his new quarters and stared at the ceiling, trying to think. Zar'roc lay beside him, its hilt glinting in the torchlight. The silver grip had darkened with the grime and sweat that had built up over the last few years, but the blade remained as bright and sharp as it had been on the day he had received it. Earlier that day Tranah had idly suggested that he have it cleaned, but he'd refused.
'Who cares if it's dirty? It still works. Same as me.'
'Yes,' Tranah had said. 'But it'll look nicer.'
'So what?' he'd replied. 'Looks ain't everything, y'know. I ain't no elvish ponce obsessed with shiny stuff.'
That had made Tranah laugh at him, and that had made him irritable.
Morzan hated to be laughed at, but it seemed that people had been doing it to him all his life. The other children he'd grown up with had made him the butt of all their jokes, and even his own parents and siblings had made fun of him from time to time. Donkey. That had been his nickname. Morzan the Donkey, son of Murtagh the bricklayer.
'You'll never be a rider,' a neighbour had told him once. 'But you could pull your father's brick-cart someday. The donkey'd be out of a job.'
That had stung Morzan far more deeply than he had ever admitted to himself. In the end it had been one of the things that had driven him to go to the rider's trials, and he knew that no matter what happened he would never regret it. It had been the thing that had led him to meet Idün, and from the moment the red dragon bonded herself to him he knew he would never be alone again. She was one of the very few people in the world who could laugh at him without hurting him. Brom had been another of them.
Even now, Morzan could not quite believe what Brom had done. The other rider had been like a younger brother to him. During the long years of their training, Brom, together with Idün, had been what kept Morzan's spirits up. And in spite of the fact that Brom had betrayed him, Morzan missed his good cheer and his wit. He remembered how they had snuck out of their cells at night to go drinking in the city, casting sly glances at each other the next day when they had to go to their lessons hung over. It was so hard to connect that Brom – the laughing, happy Brom who had been his friend – with the one who had glared at him from Tranah and Roland's grasp while Galbatorix lay dying, and told him he was a fool and a traitor.
That version of Brom was the version Morzan hated, and as he stared blankly upwards and remembered that night he felt his heart harden. He knew who it was that had taken his old friend away from him. Who it was who had filled Brom's mind with lies and turned him against his friends. He, Morzan, had fought back against the forces that tried to turn him into an elf, but Brom had surrendered, and from that day forth he had ceased to be Morzan's friend and become a tool of the elders. Like so many others.
Morzan's thick fingers curled around the key in his hand, and he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He put Zar'roc back into its sheath on his back, and strode out of the room.
He passed through the castle and down the stairs to the dungeons, which were virtually deserted. Durza, sitting on a stool outside the door of Oromis' cell, turned sharply to look at Morzan when he entered, his eyes gleaming red in the torchlight. The Shade relaxed slightly when he saw who it was, but did not look away.
Morzan pointed awkwardly at him. 'You… you go watch the end of the corridor, all right? I got business here.'
Durza stood up in one fluid movement. 'As you wish, my Lord,' he said, bowing his head slightly. He loped away without another word, and stationed himself at the base of the stairs leading back up into the castle.
Morzan kicked the stool aside and stared into the cell at his former master. Oromis was dozing, huddled in the corner of his prison. His pale yellow robe was stained, and he'd wrapped his arms around his knees and had his shoulders hunched protectively.
Just for a moment, as he watched the old elf's fitful sleep, Morzan felt sorry for him. But when he thought of Brom, and of the victims they had both seen being led innocently to their fate, all his sympathy fled. He thrust the key into the lock and turned it, and the door swung open.
Oromis woke up at the sound of the door closing, and lifted his head. When he saw his former apprentice he started very slightly and moved fractionally away from him.
Morzan stood over him. 'Get up,' he commanded.
Oromis stood. 'Morzan,' he said. 'I am imploring you-,'
'Shut up,' said Morzan.
'But Morzan, please-,'
Morzan hit him in the face, hard. Oromis fell silent, staring at him with an expression almost of shock.
Morzan cracked his knuckles. 'How's the new quarters?' he asked sneeringly. 'Not so comfy, huh? Bet you'd like it better if you had some company, wouldn't you?'
'I am comfortable enough,' Oromis said coldly. 'And you, Morzan, have condemned yourself to die the traitor's death.'
Morzan laughed. 'You're pathetic, elf,' he said. 'Pathetic. You reckon you can scare me? You're gonna die. You know that? An' guess what? You deserve it. I'm bettin' once you've stopped being useful you'll be killed nice 'an quick. Galbatorix, he's like that. Doesn't believe in things like the traitor's death. He'd take yer head off, quick as lightning. Now me, if it was me, I'd make it something slower. Something that gave you time to think about what you'd done, but I don't reckon I'll be allowed. But I do get one bit o' fun – when you die, I'm the one who's gonna be holdin' the axe. Galbatorix promised me.'
Oromis went cold. 'You have no right, traitor,' he said softly. 'If you kill me, it'll be murder.'
Morzan drew Zar'roc, pointing it at the old elf's neck and forcing him to lift his head to avoid being cut. 'You know what I've learned?' he said. 'Know what I found out? Justice is what happens when someone with a sword kills someone without a sword. An' guess who's got the sword, pervert? It ain't you.'
Oromis closed his eyes. 'Oh gods…'
Morzan jabbed him with the sword, hard enough to draw blood. 'What gods, elf? I thought you said they din't exist. Guess it's true – everyone really does start believing in 'em when they're about to die.' He held Zar'roc's point against the elf's neck a few seconds longer, and then abruptly withdrew it and put it back into its sheath. Oromis sagged, rubbing the cut on his throat.
'Now,' said Morzan. 'If I had my way I'd kill yer right here and now, or at least cut off them hairless balls of yours, but Galbatorix told me I'm not to do yeh any lasting damage so I'm gonna have to settle for second best.' He balanced himself, and kicked Oromis square in the groin.
Oromis screamed and doubled up, and Morzan kicked him again, this time in the stomach. The old elf fell onto his side, moaning, and Morzan kicked him, again and again, aiming for his gut, where it would hurt the most. Oromis made a feeble attempt to fend him off, but without his magic he was the weaker of the two, and in the end he curled up, covering his head, screaming and yelling. Morzan reached down and took hold of his collar, hauling him to his feet. Holding him still with one hand, he punched him in the chest and stomach and then in the throat. As the blows rained down, the big rider started to shout. 'How's that feel, you sonofabitch, how's that feel? Well? How d'yer like a taste of yer own medicine, elf? How d'yer like that?' He let go of him and kicked him hard in the kneecap, and Oromis fell against the wall and slid down it, holding his hands out in a vain attempt to shield himself. 'Please!' the old elf moaned. 'Please, s-stop! Stop it! I can't-,'
Morzan smacked him in the back of the neck. 'You evil piece of shit!' he snarled. 'You foul pervert, you reckon you can get out of this, you reckon you can make me stop after what you did? You think that, do yeh? Think it's all right to do what you did to them kids, but it's not all right for me to do this?' he stamped on Oromis' hand, breaking his fingers with a horrible crunching sound. 'Or this?' he smashed his fist into the elf's face, cracking his cheekbone.
Oromis started to howl and gibber, in too much pain to speak coherently. He tried desperately to drag himself away, but Morzan grabbed him by the leg and hauled him back. He kicked him onto his back and pinned him down with a boot on his chest. 'Screw what Galbatorix said,' he rasped, and drew his dagger. 'I'm gonna cut it off an' make you eat it.'
'Please!' Oromis moaned, reaching up toward him. 'No, gods, no!'
Morzan hit him in the face again. 'Shut the hell up!'
Oromis lay back, his nose oozing blood. He started to cry. 'I couldn't help it,' he said, sobbing, his broken fingers twisting horribly. 'I couldn't help it, please, I couldn't help it, I couldn't-,'
Morzan hit him in the chin, and the old elf went limp, his eyes flicking shut. He'd been knocked unconscious.
For a moment Morzan stood there, looking down at his old master, and then he put his dagger back into its sheath and removed his boot from Oromis' chest. He spread a hand over him. 'Waíse heill.'
He used the healing spell several times, and when he had healed the more visible and serious injuries he kicked Oromis onto his side and left the cell, locking the door behind him.
Morzan paused in the corridor outside, leaning against the cell door, and realised he was trembling. He breathed in deeply and wiped the sweat off his forehead. A glance along the corridor showed him Durza, still standing calmly in the same spot as before and watching the stairs. Morzan found the stool lying on its side, and set it upright again. 'You can come back,' he said thickly.
Durza looked around and came to him, and resumed his seat without comment. Morzan paused for a moment, looking at him, and then left without a word.
He walked off up the steps, feeling strangely clumsy, as if his body didn't belong to him any more. Without really thinking about where he was going, he wandered on up to the battlements and emerged into the fresh air with an odd feeling of relief. It was early afternoon, and the sky was clear and bright. He could see the dragons perched on the walls with the ordinary human sentries, scanning the landscape. Idün was on the dragon-roost, drowsing in the warm sunlight, while Aedua and Talziri circled overhead like a pair of eagles. A peaceful scene.
Morzan wandered along the wall, not thinking of anything much. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear the crunch of Oromis' fingers breaking, replaying itself over and over again. He sighed and forced himself to relive what he had done in his mind, and as the shock of it slowly drained away a sudden, dark thrill moved through him, powerful and exhilarating. He shivered slightly, and then grinned. 'Old bastard,' he muttered. 'It served him right. Yeah…'
For some reason it made him feel sociable, and he walked on toward the spot where Tranah was standing. She saw him coming and moved aside to let him join her.
'Hello. Where have you been?'
Morzan shrugged. 'Just resting. How's it going up here?'
'Not too badly,' said Tranah. 'Just had a bite to eat. No sign of anything suspicious.'
Morzan glanced around. 'Where's the kids? Gern and Kaelyn.'
'They've gone into the city to visit their parents,' said Tranah. 'They asked me first. I thought they deserved a break.'
Morzan grasped the rough stone parapet and leaned forward to look down at the city. 'Good,' he said. 'At last we've got that blasted girl out of our hair.'
'There's no need to be so hard on her,' Tranah said mildly. 'She's had a hard time.'
'Big deal,' said Morzan. 'We've all had a hard time. I've had a hard time, but d'you hear me going on about it? I'm glad Galbatorix didn't take her with him; she'd have made more trouble for him, you mark my words.'
'They were a little too close, I agree,' said Tranah. 'I mean, not that it's wrong for them to be friends or anything, but he was giving her too much attention.'
'Had a bit of a crush on her, I reckon,' said Morzan. 'I know she was wanting a bit of action. Saw her making eyes at him every time I turned around. Idiot girl doesn't know he'd never break his word.'
Tranah blinked. 'Word? What word?'
'That woman he talked about,' said Morzan. 'The one he wouldn't name. He took an oath never to go with anyone else. She had to be pretty good in the sack for him to go and do that. Man's a romantic, honestly.'
Tranah smiled. 'I hope for his sake she comes back.'
'Not if she's gone over the sea she won't,' said Morzan. 'Won't stop him waiting the rest of his damn fool life for her, though. No-one's gonna get in the way of that, an' definitely not that jumped-up apprentice of his.'
'She's just a girl,' said Tranah. 'You know what it's like when you're that age, surely.'
'Maybe, but I never went and tried to get someone killed because I couldn't get 'em into bed with me,' said Morzan, unmoved.
'Morzan, you know perfectly well she didn't plan that. Anyway, I'm fairly sure we can count on her to act a little more responsibly in future.'
'I'll believe that when I see it,' said Morzan.
'I've already seen it,' said Tranah. 'Remember how Galbatorix told her to stay back that first day when we got here? He told her off. No question of that. She spent the rest of the day sulking and now she keeps away from him.'
Morzan chuckled. 'Good. Best thing for both of 'em. Dunno why he put up with her for so long, honestly.'
'Well, he's a lonely man,' said Tranah. 'No-one's perfect. And now maybe Gern will finally pull himself together.'
'Huh?' said Morzan. 'Gern? What about him?'
'He likes her,' said Tranah. 'I noticed it months ago.'
Morzan groaned. 'Y'know, I really can't think of anything I care less about. Have you made a plan for if we get attacked again?'
'I've got some people building siege weapons,' said Tranah. 'They shouldn't take too long to put together. We'll put them on the outer walls and add some more up here at the castle. The first dragon that comes at us that isn't carrying a white banner gets its wings shredded. Even ordinary humans can be dangerous to a rider, with the right weapons.'
'Good plan,' said Morzan. 'An' we can bring Oromis up here an' tell 'em we'll cut his damned head off if they don't surrender.'
Tranah nodded. 'I doubt we'll be attacked in the next couple of days. Since none of the riders escaped, it'll be a while before the news gets to Ilirea. If I remember correctly, it takes about two weeks to get there on foot. Hopefully by the time they do find out, we'll have had some word back from the urgal chieftains, and from Roland. After that we can decide what to do.'
'Yeh,' said Morzan. 'D'you reckon Galbatorix has gotten to Dras-Leona yet?'
'Most likely,' said Tranah. 'He'll contact us either tomorrow or the day after, by my guess.'
'Let's hope he'll have good news when he does,' said Morzan.
