Edited 1/2/22 - all chapters are getting a overhaul. Things might not match until this process is complete.
Rose and Murtagh are not the same person.
I do not the Inheritance Cycle
The Caged Bird
Rose flipped through the tome, scanning the yellowed pages for anything that might be of use. Like many of the other books she had read over the last moon cycle, its pages didn't hold what she was looking for. It was hardly worth the effort of finding a ladder to retrieve it from a high shelf. She cast the book aside with a sigh and rubbed her burning eyes.
Her search was hopeless, she thought as she cast a disdainful look about the lifeless library. It was rare that there were many people about the shelves and that day was no different. The library was gloomy and completely silent, without another soul about. It was forgotten in its own way, that library, replaced with a newer, less dusty room a few years before. Although the rumors were that this room would be remodeled into something more updated, it never happened, and so she kept returning, allowing herself to enjoy to solitude, forgotten hallways of books, and how easy it was to forget her troubles whenever she hid herself away.
Rose had spent more than one night in this place hunkered beneath a table learning; of the tales that the night sky told, the histories of the Alagaësia, the methods of industrialists and marketers, and stories that were meant for nothing more than scare children into minding their elders. Inside this sanctuary she could hide from the difficulties that lay outside its walls.
Well, she could once that was no more. Those times were when books had been a thing of leisure and not desolation as they were now. It had been a mere moon cycle ago, when this change happened. Rose felt as that age of freedom had been ages ago. In another lifetime for completely different person. This new age was a time she wished had never come, an era when the troubles of her world could no longer be hidden away.
She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her chair to the ground, and walked over to a shelf crammed with books. Her fingers skimmed the titles before she grabbed a small book, and wedged her hand between two tome into a too tight spot, pulling out a scroll she had hidden there days before. After replacing the book, she slipped the scroll into her waist band and turned away, deciding that she would read it at a later time.
Her search was pointless. Rose wasn't certain what she would find here, nor did she know exactly what she was looking for. All this researching, sleepless nights, and hours she spent with a sore neck were for nothing! What exactly did she except to find? Nothing would help her now, and perhaps this was meant to be her role from the start. And who could escape fate?
This is what a caged bird feels like, she thought as she stared out over the courtyard below where a group of careless children played. They see the world through tinted glass, watching, waiting, searching for a chance to escape and when they do; they soar. But from here, this gilded place, there would no escape and I am no bird.
Rose had been raised with the knowledge of the security of the castle and knew almost every route in and out of its walls. She has seen depictions of it on a roughly drawn map time and time again when she had been a child with Tornac. He had gone through the routes that she could take if something would happen so many times she could transverse the castle in the dark. Rose knew where to go and what rarely used passage lead to where, what hallways were the most secured and which ones had weaknesses, where she might find a guard stationed and where there might be a weapon used as display. These were meant to help her feel safe during a time when the securities had meant to keep her safe. Now they merely seemed to be there to keep her caged, and a part of her wondered if perhaps it has always been that way and she had been too naïve to know it.
I am no bird, she thought once more, sitting down at the table she had abandoned. If I were I could fly away from here. I could go anywhere.
Her hand trailed over leather that held her voil which until now had been forgotten. She had ventured into the music room that morning, seeking to knowledge about the instrument's unplayable string but was quickly turned away and ventured to the library instead. The night before she had spent hour upon hour, tuning and listening to the instrument, testing its strings and listening to its tone. It was a lovingly made piece, and she excited to have the new string as a challenge, if she could find someone to teach her. Oh, how she wished Brage was still alive! He had been the man who gruelingly sat beside her for years, teaching her how to master the voil. Surely, if he were alive, he would teach her how to play that string!
Rose wondered then, if he had ever mentioned how to play different strings when he had mentioned there existence to her. It seemed just as likely he had but she had far more interested in the tale he had promised to tell after their lesson. How many songs had she forgotten how to play because his stories? How many of his stories had she once played in her songs?
She did not know.
A wave of sadness swept through her. Rose often missed Brage the bard at times, like now, when she wanted to know information about an instrument or a tale that the souls in this castle had long forgotten. Brage had always been full of knowledge and life, always eager to share what he knew to whoever. To him it didn't matter who the person was as long they would value that information and Rose supposed that this was why she had taken to him; he didn't care about who her parents were, and perhaps that is what she missed most of all.
With a sigh, she turned away from the voil, wishing that she was being able to forget who her parents were. She could not. Fate seemed to laugh at her when it came to her parentage and their role in her destiny.
It was around the time Rose believed her nameday to be -she did not truly know the date of her birth and no person ever bothered to tell her- when she had been summoned to the see the King. Rose wondered why exactly he had chosen to summon her after all the years she had spent so close within his walls ignored and unwanted. At the time, she thought that perhaps he only cared to see her because of her father, and wished to know of her plans of the season, and of who she might wed.
Before that moment the King had always kept his distance, uninvolved in her upbringing. Once by mere chance Rose had meet him in passing, however they exchanged no words and it was a brief occasion. The King acted as if she were an invisible thing, nothing more than an object to look at in passing, a thing to admire but not touch. She thought that despite the role her father had played that the King had forgotten her or did not truly want her, that perhaps she was a presence that reminded him of the comrade he had lost making her existence too pain to involve himself in.
Her father was a man who had once been King Galbatorix's most faithful and dedicated liegeman. He was the first to declare his loyalty to Galbatorix well before he was the King, before the war that changed everything. After her father joined so did others, forming what was called the Thirteen Forsworn. A group of fierce Riders along with their beast-like dragons wrought terror- that still scarred the land and people- but this did not last. Unlike the King, his Forsworn slowly died away before vanishing completely.
Rose's father was last to do so, leaving her behind as an orphan in the King's care. The king of Alagaësia had provided for her up upbringing not long after her parents had left the living world, and even then, he left her to the care of his courts and did not involve himself at all.
It was within the courts of Urû'baen that Rose was raised, growing from a child to a young woman. During her childhood, it was as if a tide were pulling at her, swifting and changing within moments, demanding her its attention with its ebb and flow. As she came of an age where she was given more freedom to choose, Rose began to avoid the intrigues the courts lay before her, having grown wary of the noblemen who might use her. It was only after her visit with the King that Rose began to realize that he was the one she should have taken care to protect herself against.
The ruthless King of Alagaësia.
He had not always been so.
Once, history told her, long, long ago, the King had merely been a boy Rider from a forgotten region, who after a great suffering declared war on an ancient immoral government. History said that the war had been long and blood and full of unimaginable loss and grief but Galbatorix along and those faithful to him were crowned victorious. Galbatorix took the throne naming himself all powerful King of Alagaësia, where he had reigned ever since and would ever more. The King always got what he wanted, history said, so what exactly was it that he wanted with her?
In comparison to her colorful heritage, Rose was pail and unnoteworthy. Her father had been ruthless and handsome and cunning, and her mother was said to have been as beautiful, brilliant, and deadly as an angelic wrath. The woman was a legend within the castle walls known more commonly as The Black Hand. The coldblooded assassin had once paraded on dread filled missions of death and torture until one mission ended in her own death.
Since then Galbatorix has been trying in vain to recreate usefulness of The Black Hand until he had created a group of rag-tag assassins and though they were skilled, the King's collection did not match the Black Hand of Morzan, not in skill nor tact nor efficiency. After years of failure after failure, the King turned his attentions to the daughter of the assassin he so longed for, in hopes that the young woman could live up to her heritage.
Yet, Rose was not talented as her mother and father had been nor were her steps quiet enough to allow her to sneak. The tutors she had seen within the last month have been kind enough to tell her that she was a hopeless case; an elephant stomping on eggshells was more promising than her. With this in mind, she was concerned in the task the King had lain before her, convinced that she was useless to him and would surely die a horrible death due to his insane request.
There was only so long that she could delay his training and what time she bought herself, she was determined to find an answer to her freedom. The path her parents paved were not ones she wished to walk, and she most certainly did not wish to die.
.
Rose was still deep in thought when she heard the door to the library bang open and then a came a sound like that of a choking horse as a book clattered to the ground. She jumped from her chair and peered out of the cove that she holed herself into, watching with widening eyes as Ailis righted herself. The older woman was panting, as if she had run through the entire castle, her hair falling lose from the low bun it had been in that morning. Her grey uniform was replaced with a long, dark tunic covered by a long and black wool cloak fell from her shoulders, which nearly hid that blackened shortsword tied at her waist by a thick leather belt. Three buckskin travel-bags were slung across her back and in her hands was larger bag.
Rose's eyes narrowed and fixed on the sword, and she felt herself tense. The conversation that she overheard days before whispered in her mind and she cursed herself for allowing a friendship to blossom with the woman. She glanced at the doors that were behind Ailis, wondering if she could make it past the woman before she was attacked.
"Peace, Rose," the woman called out, as she came closer. "I mean no harm to you!"
Rose huffed in disbelief. "You've been a fraud," she accused. "Is this the latest plan? Are you going to kill me now and bring the news that so many have been waiting for, for so long."
"If I wanted you died, I'd have done it long ago!" Ailis hissed, and without another word she tossed the bag in her hands at her. Rose started, jumping away and knocking into the chair behind her. "The bag won't bite nor will the boots that are inside. Put them on and follow me unless you wish to remain here and become the King's latest puppet."
Rose edged toward the leather bag, her mind racing. "I overheard you and Tornac the other day," she admitted. "It sounded as if the two of you were planning something; is this what the whispering was about? Leaving the Capital?"
"Thank the gods, it was you we heard," Ailis breathed, her eyes closing briefly. "Yes, that's what we were talking about. Tornac is waiting by the gate with horses but we must hurry! Quickly! We don't have much time!"
For a short moment, Rose studied the woman and then took a deep breath. A blistering madness to leave the city took hold of her. The madness ran through her veins like fire, driving her to leave behind all she ever knew behind, demanding at she put forth blind faith and pray that she held no regret later. The worse that could happen is that the woman was lying and she'd likely be tortured or killed, and at best Ailis was being truthful. She kicked the flap of the bag open, and bent down to pull out a pair of richly made leather boots. As she kicked off her slip-shoes, she asked, "Where are we going?"
"Far from this black place."
"Sounds like someplace I might know," Rose muttered under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The boots fit well and were long enough that they nearly reached her knees. It was her untrained guess that they would likely last a good few months of travel before wearing down. Wiggling her toes, she pulled her viol case to her chest and said, "Won't I merely slow you down? The King shall send his men to search for me."
"If it comes to that and I don't think that it will, mind you, I'll able to handle the King's men," said Ailis, examining the bookshelf that stretched from wall-to-wall. She picked up a book at random and tucked it into her cloak before casting one last look about the library and adding, "I'd rather have to deal with them so let's make haste."
With a deep breath, Rose grabbed her voil and place a few books inside the bag before pulling it over her shoulder. It wasn't as heavy as she feared but after a time Rose was certain she be thinking otherwise. She glanced up at Ailis' face and said, "Lead the way."
Ailis grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room to a burgundy woven tapestry in the hallway. When the woven tapestry was pulled aside, Rose found that hidden beneath it was a small, stout oaken door, she hadn't known about. As she was pulled through the doorway, she wondered about what other passageways might exist within these walls. The sound of the door closing, pulled her from this thought. Suddenly the air inside was unpleasantly cool, and Ailis' hands began to feel like ice.
They stood on a stout platform, and both women had to bend down to fit inside, with a set of narrow stone stairs leading both up and down on each side of them. Purloined silver stone which seemed to make up the older, original parts of the castle, were stained with dust and old footprints. The hallways were cold and undecorated, tiny wooden doors stood in the middle of each platform.
Rose shivered as the wind blew through the small uncovered slits for windows, turning the air around them to ice.
"These are the Servant's Halls. They're not often used unless ones wanted to get from one end of the castle without being disturbed," Ailis said, releasing her hand to adjust the bags on her back. "Stay close, Rose. It would ill fate to lose you now."
As they hurried down the stairway Rose found that she would much rather crawl her way down then walk. There were moments she nearly did, crawl that is, having to bend down and place her hand down flat to get past shorter areas. She wondered how anyone used the passageways without falling or ruining their clothing, and instantly she was glad for the tough boots she now wore.
Rose found that keeping up with Ailis but that task was near impossible. The woman nearly jogged ahead, bounding down the stairs with an elation that should have been impossible, and stopping only when Rose had fallen so far behind they could hardly see each other. They continued down countless stairways and passageways, through door after door, until Rose lost all sense of direction. Their footsteps echoed eerily around them in the emptiness.
"Won't the guards be patrolling the walls?" asked Rose as they entered a narrow hallway.
"We needn't worry about them," Ailis stated ahead of her. "They are currently preoccupied."
Rose frowned. "How so?" she said before adding, "Please don't mind my asking. I've' never seen a guard off duty."
Ailis shrugged and said "I don't mind in the least," but did not say more. Instead she bounding down the hallway with new found speed that Rose struggled to keep up to.
"And the King? Is he preoccupied as well?" she asked breathlessly.
"Quite occupied, I'd say. He shan't be focused on much else for a time." The woman came to a sudden and Rose nearly ran into her. Her legs shook beneath her and she stood gasping as Ailis said, "When we go through this door, we'll be outside. Stay close and be ready to run."
The woman glance at Rose for a moment, seemingly searching for something and finding it. She pushed open the door and disappeared into harsh light of the sun.
Blinkingly, Rose followed after, her hand flying to her brow to shade her eyes. The women rushed past the courtyards and gardens of the castle to the gate keep of the entrance of the capital of Urû'baen. There was not a soul guarding the palace's entry, and this was something that Rose had never witnessed. As they went under the shadowing arch, a sole figure appeared on the other side. The man, Rose couldn't make out his face, was dressed for travel; a wool shirt and a jerkin and thick leggings covered by a long, dark cloak.
"You took your time," the figure, Tornac, called out. A sword flashed at his hip. "For a time I feared that you changed your mind."
"No chance of that," laughed Ailis. "Not if all the gold in all the world would I would change my mind about leaving this accursed place."
"Rightly so," mussed Tornac. He turned and winked at Rose. "The coast is clear. If all goes well, we should have a nice bed of pine needles under a roof of stars when the King hears of our flight."
"That would be at the best," Ailis stated. "If we are lucky, which I rarely am, we should be far enough away if fate decides to change its mind."
Tornac scowled at her, his scar seeming to stretch deeper into his skin. "Do not say such," he said, "unless you are prepared to face that it may very well come to be."
Silence fell over them, a sudden sense of urgency creeping around them. None of them said anything but began almost at once to walk down the cobbled path under a wide shadowing stone gate arch, its chilling shadows grabbing at their clothing. Before them, stretched a wide thoroughfare shaded by towering stone and glass buildings of every kind. The sun was only beginning to ascend down the sky, its light beamed off of the crystal and polished stone.
The city of Urû'baen was divided what the locals called The Three Circles. Each circle was divided to segregate the wealth of the citizens of the capital and each Circle was guarded. The castle was at the center of the inner most Circle, called the Inner Circle and it was for the wealthiest; the Middle Circle consisted of the middleclass and the market; the Outer Circle, was the largest, it was reserved for the lowest and dirtiest public of Urû'baen.
At this moment they stood just outside the center of the Inner Circle, overlooking the teeming market beyond. Tornac took a sharp right and lead them to a picket where horses could be tied to for rest or their rider's convince. There were three horses tied to this post.
"Rose, it's gladdens my heart that you came," Tornac said, "but time is of the essence and now we must make haste and leave. Here, hand me your packs."
"Oh, Starshine," said Rose looking from the horses to Tornac. She grinned and hurried over the silver dapple and ran her fingers lovingly over his coat. The stallion knickered at her in greeting, his ears flying forward.
"He'll stand out. The showy fellow that he is," Tornac said, pulling the bag from her hands, "but you've raise that horse and know him and his antics just as well as you know the back of your hand. You'll need a familiar steed out there."
Rose smiled and handed him the viol case which he took and attached to the saddle of the stallion. There two other horses picketed, both loaded with heavy Rose recognized as Tornac's solid black stallion, Shadowless, instantly but found herself frowning at a fine-looking roan with a white blaze on its face.
She went back to running her fingers through Starshine's coat until Tornac called out her and tossed something her way. Rose caught it on pure reflex, and unraveled a long, dark blue cloak made of thick fleece. Flinging the cloak over her shoulder, she pulled the cloak close to her, relishing in the relief it brought from the cool air. Shrouded from the chilled air, she began untying Starshine from the post, when a hand touched her shoulder. She started and nearly dropped the reins.
"Look at me." Rose obeyed, turning to look at the woman behind her. Ailis pulled the hood tightly around Rose's head hiding her face in shadow. "Tornac told me that you are an excellent rider, so keep close. When we get out of the city kept your eyes on us and don't stray. If anything goes wrong and the King's men pursue us I want you to ride as fast as you can south. There's a map that I've marked as well as directions to a safe town. You have enough gold in her bags to keep you safe for a time. Ride to that town and don't stray. If we can, we will find you."
Rose nodded her understanding.
"Keep your hood up at all times and look at no one," added Tornac as he mounted Shadowless. "Shall we?"
Ailis stepped away to the roan, as Rose climbed onto the silver steed and looked at her companions. Tornac beckoned them into the city beyond the gates with one final reminder to keep close together.
The city stretched dizzyingly high above them. Rose had to crane her neck back to look up, feeling as if the whole thing would topple down on her, crushing her with a vast weight of stone and glass. The roads lead to low ached gates of the Middle circle and the market beyond it. They passed through the gates unchallenged.
Sunlight and bell notes spilled simultaneously over the market's wide twisting alleys, picking out the sparkling domes of the glass and stone towers. The alleys were teeming with people laden with wares; bakers walking trays of fresh loaves, donkeys and pack mules loaded down with huge panniers or sacks, women in unadorned dresses of greens, reds, or greys, dirty faced children were squabbling and playing, and hawkers marching up and down the paths loudly calling the virtues of their wares.
Rose watched the people, as they rode drinking in the sights and smell and sounds briefly before she focused on remaining close to her companions. This was a task that became challenging the deeper they traveled into the market as more and more crowded the streets.
Tornac kept a brisk pace and soon they reached the gates of the Outer Circle, where they passing by the beggars and the destitute without a glance until they reached the dark gates of Urû'baen. "Now comes the real test. I pray that you enjoy a good race as we are about to partake in the one for our lives," said the old swordsman, forcing his stallion into a reckless gallop, his white hair rippled in the wind behind him like waves from the sea.
Rose grinned, and bent down on Starshine, cuing him to follow closely behind. She let out a brief laugh when the stallion knickered and jumped into a gallop. Behind her she could hear, Ailis calling out to her steed and risked a look back to see the woman leaning low on the roan.
They kept riding this way until Urû'baen was but a spot in the distance. Only then did they slow their tiring pace and Tornac took them off the road. The silver stallion who was Rose knew was bred for speed and endurance, was lathered with sweat and was beginning to tremble. She patted his flanked and whisper sweetly to him.
They paused only briefly, going down to the river and allowing the horse to drink as they stretched their legs and hastily eat a meager dinner of hard bread and cheese before continuing. The landscape stretched out before them on a slight decline. The Ramr River ran to their right, so broad and rapid that Rose could not see the other side to the capital they had left behind.
They kept at a slow trot though the night was in almost total darkness. The heavy clouds meant that little moonlight aided their way. All Rose could see the dark shape of Tornac and Ailis, the darker shapes of sparse trees on either side, and the faint glint of the grass ahead of them. The horses, though exhausted from their mad dash, were sure-footed and never stumbled. Rose leaned against the Starshine's neck completely spent, her eyes partially closed.
When the skies began to lighten, Ailis lead them into a small forest of ash and oak. The shadows were lengthened, and immediately a chill fell around them. The woman was looking around as she rode, leading them away from the loose track they were following to a small dingle.
The coarse grass within the clearing shelved down to a spring that bubbled out of a ledge of rock on top of which grew briars and woodbines. Half hidden by this growth was a small smooth cave with a sandy floor, where travelers had clearly made camp many times before. It even had a rough hearth of jagged stone.
"This place is enchanted to give all who visit it shelter. For today and tonight it will grant us protection from our enemies." Ailis said, dismounting her roan mare.
"I'll go and find us firewood," said Tornac groggily. He swung his leg off of Shadowless and sauntered off into woods, leaving the women in peace to wash if they pleased.
Rose was numb with cold and tiredness and was quite glad to slide off of her horse. Numbly and slowly, she began to unsaddle the silver dapple, her whole body aching for sleep. She brushed Starshine free of sweat and mud with a roughly bristled comb with a shaking hand. Once she was sure that he was able to graze and drank as much as he needed, Rose stumbling tiredly into the cave.
Ailis was sitting down, her back facing Rose with her head in her hands. Rose cautiously sat down beside her. She lifted her head and eyed her with an emotion Rose could not distinguish. "I'm glad you came," The woman said suddenly and turned away, busying herself with a bedroll.
Rose blinked at her and yawned, too tired to search for bedding. She lay down clutching the cloak to her body, her fingers ran over the necklace she wore. Ailis had insisted she wear it earlier that morning, and now, she wondered why. Casting the thought aside with a shrug, she wished instead for the soft, feathered mattress back in Urû'baen, as her eyes began to close. Sleep quickly took over.
