Chapter 17: Home Again
Thorn graced the skies with his growing red wings, sending streaks through the horizon. Even that sight could not comfort Murtagh as he flew closer and closer to the last place he wanted to visit.
When they landed, the sun had already disappeared, leaving behind it the soft moon, which lit the ground with its soft glow. Murtagh struck a fire with a well-placed "Brisingr!" until it was crackling merrily enough to shed warmth on the two companions.
Are you really thinking about betraying Galbatorix? The consequences could be dire. Said Thorn suddenly.
Yes, said Murtagh after a long sigh. What choice do we have? Besides, I don't want to be exiled to his service forever.
You and Eragon alone are no match for him. Even if you fight alongside the Varden, you won't live to see victory. Are you really going to condemn me with life without a Rider?
Murtagh scowled. Thorn had placed him in a delicate position, but he couldn't let Eragon down again. They were brothers, after all.
What you do is up to you. Said Murtagh. But if I have you by my side, what should I fear? Are you saying that you cannot protect me?
My protection is not enough.
The words hung in the air menacingly, silencing the two. Murtagh sighed and rolled over to sleep.
The morning light woke Murtagh. His stomach roared with hunger, but being without food, he could not satiate it.
They were soon in the sky again. Their flight was long and strenuous, but they dare not stop until Uru'baen was in sight. Finally, the city was within a mile's flight, and Thorn strained to fly faster, exceeding his speed.
When they entered the city limits, various people on the streets looked up and gasped. Murtagh was used to this attention, having to fly in and out of the city on a regular basis. Thorn made a beeline straight for the castle in the center of Uru'baen, where he spotted Shruikan guarding it protectively.
They landed on the landing balcony that jutted out of the castle precariously. Murtagh headed toward the treasure room; the exact place he knew that Galbatorix would be. Thorn whispered cautions the entire way, until the Rider heaved open the chamber doors.
"So, my Rider, you have returned." Galbatorix's chilling voice was cold and angry. "This, Eragon, has bested us? How could you let this happen?"
This last sentence was shouted, sending an echo reverberating against the exquisite walls. Murtagh did not flinch.
"Those elves would have been so easy to crush," continued Galbatorix, ranting like a madman. "If you had not been so incompetent! Thankfully, I had a back up plan. If you had failed me…."
He made a violent gesture in midair. Thorn recoiled at his rage, feeling the tendrils of emotion spreading. Murtagh, however, simply stared at him blankly, masking his opinion with a blanket of indifference.
"Eragon," started Murtagh calmly, "bested me only in strength, but not in wisdom. His love for others, and forgiveness, has made him a fool. Those elves have poisoned his mind to our advantage. If we could get him to trust me, and accept me again, then I could dismantle the Varden from the inside out. I will weaken them for you, master."
Galbatorix smirked. "I see. Tell me your ingenious plan, young Rider. Fault is an ideation that I will not allow. Keep that in mind, and enlighten me."
Murtagh explained his venture to the elves, his fight with Eragon, and his capture. When he explained the Vault of Souls, Galbatorix grinned like a Cheshire cat.
"His true name…. you have learned it?" Murtagh nodded gravely.
"Then hurry up, boy; tell me!" Galbatorix barked like an eager dog, begging for a scrap of meat.
Murtagh hesitated, then announced: "It is…. Edoc'sil abr du Shur'tugal."
"You heard this from his own lips?"
"I did."
"Excellent, Murtagh. You are dismissed. Go to the dungeon and see the prisoner. See that she is…. comfortable."
Murtagh left obediently. Thorn flew above him in the vaulted ceilings, hovering nervously. You took a great chance, Murtagh. You could have gotten us killed in that moment.
Be calm, Thorn. It will all work itself out in the end.
The dungeon door was guarded heavily by two burly guards. When they saw Murtagh coming, they parted quickly, allowing him to enter without question. More guards stood inside, but did not move as he passed them by. In the first jail stood a tall elf, slumped against the wall. He assumed it was Arya, and reached through the bars carefully.
She spun on her heal and snatched his hand, and even his Rider's reflexes couldn't dodge her's.
"What are you doing here?" She scowled, spitting at his feet.
"I'm here to tell you the truth."
A/N: Missing Eragon yet? Well, too bad, he'll be gone for a while. You won't see him until the final battle, and then it'll be in his POV. R&R!
