"This way," snapped the bald man. He stepped back, keeping the dagger pressed under Murtagh's chin, then wheeled to the right, disappearing through an arched doorway. The warrior holding Lorena followed close behind. They walked through the doorway, and down a narrow corridor. The corridor curved sharply to the left, then to the right. A door opened and they entered a bare room, so large that it could even house Saphira comfortably. It had white marble walls, floor and ceiling that reflected a ghost image of everyone.
The warrior holding her stopped next to the bald man, his dagger pressing harshly on her soft skin. Once Eragon and Saphira entered there was a hollow boom as the doors closed, followed by a loud scrape as a bolt was secured on the outside. "There's an injured—" Eragon began to speak, but a sharp gesture from the bald man cut him off.
"Do not speak! It must wait until you have been tested." He shoved Murtagh to warrior next to Lorena, who pressed a sword against his neck. The bald man clasped his hands together softly. "Remove your weapons and slide them to me." A dwarf unbuckled Murtagh's, and Lorena's swords and dropped them on the floor with a clank. Eragon placed Zar'roc and its sheath on the floor, as well as his bow and quiver, then pushed the pile toward the group of warriors. "Now step away from your dragon and slowly approach me," commanded the bald man.
Eragon moved forward, until they were a yard apart, then the man said, "Stop there! Now remove the defences 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 companions will be killed."
"Why?" asked Eragon, aghast.
"To be sure you aren't in Galbatorix's service and to understand why hundreds of Urgals are banging on our front door," growled the bald man. His close-set eyes shifted from point to point with cunning speed. "No one may enter Farthen Dûr without being tested."
"There isn't time. We need a healer!" protested Eragon.
"Silence!" roared the man, pressing down his robe with thin fingers. "Until you are examined, your words are meaningless!"
"But she's dying!" retorted Eragon angrily, pointing at Arya.
"It will have to wait! No one will leave this room until we have discovered the truth of this matter. Unless you wish—"
The dwarf who had saved Eragon from the lake jumped forward. "Are you blind, Egraz Carn? 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 man's eyes tightened with anger. After a moment he relaxed and said smoothly, "Of course, Orik, we wouldn't want that to happen." He snapped his fingers and pointed at Arya. "Remove her from the dragon." Two humans warriors sheathed their swords and hesitantly approached Saphira, who watched them steadily. "Quickly, quickly!"
The men unstrapped Arya from the saddle and lowered the elf to the floor. One of the men inspected her face, then said sharply, "It's the dragon-egg courier, Arya!"
"What?" exclaimed the bald man. The dwarf Orik's eyes widened with astonishment. The bald man fixed his steely gaze on Eragon and said flatly, "You have much explaining to do."
"She was poisoned with the Skilna Bragh while in prison. Only Túnivor's Nectar can save her now."
The bald man's face became inscrutable. He stood motionless, except for his lips, which twitched occasionally. "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." The warriors nodded curtly and carried Arya out of the room. "Enough of this, we have wasted too much time already. Prepare to be examined."
"I am ready."
"Good, then—"
He was interrupted as Orik said abruptly, "You'd better not harm him, Egraz Carn, else the king will have words for you."
The bald man looked at him irritably, then faced Eragon with a small smile. "Only if he resists." He bowed his head and chanted several inaudible words. Eragon gasped with pain, and his eyes rolled into his head. Eragon's body became rigid, his jaw locked tightly, and Lorena could see the sweat rolling down his neck.
When the bald man finally finished Eragon shuddered, swayed, then fell toward the ground. Orik leapt forward and caught him, lowering him gently to the floor. "You went too far! He wasn't strong enough for this."
"He'll live. That's all that is needed," answered the bald man curtly.
Orik grunted angrily. "What did you find?"
Silence.
"Well, is he to be trusted or not?"
The words came reluctantly. "He... is not our enemy." The warriors around the room sighed with relief.
Eragon's eyes fluttered open. He gingerly pushed himself upright. "Easy now," said Orik wrapping a thick arm around him and helping him to his feet. Eragon wove unsteadily, glaring at the bald man. A low growl rumbled in Saphira's throat.
The bald man ignored them. He turned and set his eyes on Lorena. "It's your turn now."
Lorena took a deep breath, terrified as to what she just witnessed and knowing it was about to happen to her. She lowered the barriers around her mind, just like her father had taught her to. She felt a probe at her mind, but it felt oddly familiar, it was Saphira.
Lorena, I just helped Eragon to shield parts of his memory from view. I can do the same for you, but it must be done quickly.
Lorena kept her face relaxed, staring into the eyes of the bald man. Thank you! Please hide Murtagh's identity, and any information I know that you and Eragon want hidden. She felt Saphira shield her memories of Murtagh's revelation, as well as Brom's death and the words in the ancient language that she learnt.
As Saphira finished the bald man said, "Are the defences around your mind removed?" Lorena nodded. "Then let us begin."
Lorena had expected the probe to hurt, but she could not help the gasp as he took control of her mind. Unable to move, she glared into the bald man's eyes, focusing all her anger and pain on him. He shifted through her memories lazily, he seemed to recognise her parents, and even flashed a small smile when he went through her memories of their ordeal with the slavers. She snarled at him, but remained quiet after receiving a violent mental jab.
When he finished he said, "There were some similarities in yours and the Riders minds. That is very uncommon."
Fearing that he had realised Saphira had been inside her mind she stated curtly, "On the road it was not always convenient to speak with our tongues. We often spoke through our minds." The bald man scowled, seeming to not be completely convinced. He then reluctantly nodded at the warrior holding Lorena. The blade was removed and Lorena moved to stand beside Eragon.
The bald man turned to Murtagh. "Now you."
Murtagh stiffened and shook his head. The sword cut his neck slightly. Blood dripped down his skin. "No."
"You will not be protected here if you refuse."
"Eragon and Lorena have been declared trustworthy, so you cannot threaten to kill them to influence me. Since you can't do that, nothing you say or do will convince me to open my mind."
Sneering, the bald man cocked what would have been an eyebrow, if he had any. "What of your own life? I can still threaten that."
"It won't do any good," said Murtagh stonily and with such conviction that it was impossible to doubt his word.
The bald man's breath exploded angrily. "You don't have a choice!" He stepped forward and placed his palm on Murtagh's brow, clenching his hand to hold him in place. It took all of Lorena's self control to resist the urge to strike the bald man, instead she watched, chewing on her plump bottom lip. Murtagh stiffened, face growing as hard as iron, fists clenched, neck muscles bulging. He was obviously fighting the attack with all his strength. The bald man bared his teeth with fury and frustration at the resistance; his fingers dug mercilessly into Murtagh.
Orik scowled darkly as he watched the combatants. "Ilf carnz orodüm," he muttered, then leapt forward and cried, "That is enough!" He grabbed the bald man's arm and tore him away from Murtagh with strength disproportional to his size.
The bald man stumbled back, then turned on Orik furiously. "How dare you!" he shouted. "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?"
Orik bristled. "You would have let them die! If I had waited any longer the Urgals would have killed them." He pointed at Murtagh, whose breath came in great heaves. "We don't have any right to torture him for information! Ajihad won't sanction 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?" demanded the bald man. His eyes were feral with loosely chained rage; he looked ready to tear the dwarf into pieces.
"Can he use magic?"
"That is—"
"Can he use magic?" roared Orik, his deep voice echoing in the room. The bald man's face suddenly grew expressionless. He clasped his hands behind his back.
"No."
"Then what do you fear? It's impossible for him to escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. But don't listen to me; ask Ajihad what he wants done."
The bald man stared at Orik for a moment, his face indecipherable, then looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes. A peculiar stiffness set into his shoulders while his lips moved soundlessly. An intense frown wrinkled the pale skin above his eyes, and his fingers clenched, as if they were throttling an invisible enemy. For several minutes he stood thus, wrapped in silent communication.
When his eyes opened, he ignored Orik and snapped at the warriors, "Leave, now!" As they filed through the doorway, he addressed Eragon coldly, "Because I was unable to complete my examination, you two and... your friend will remain here for the night. He will be killed if he attempts to leave." With those words he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, pale scalp gleaming in the lantern light.
"Thank you," whispered Eragon to Orik.
The dwarf grunted. "I'll make sure some food is brought." He muttered a string of words under his breath, then left, shaking his head. The bolt was secured once again on the outside of the door.
Lorena rushed to Murtagh's side, and inspected his cut neck. "It's nasty, but not serious." she said with a smile, hoping Murtagh would remember their first encounter. He gave her a small smile back and gently embraced her. Lorena welcomed the affection, appreciating it after they're run and the invasion on her mind. They then slide to the floor, sitting with their back against the marble wall. Murtagh held his sleeve against the cut on his neck to stop the bleeding.
"Are you alright?" asked Eragon. Murtagh nodded. "Did he get anything from you?"
"No."
"How were you able to keep him out? He's so strong."
"I've... I've been well trained." There was a bitter note to his voice.
Silence enshrouded them. Until Eragon abruptly said, "I didn't let them know who you are."
"Me neither." said Lorena, her eyes on the floor.
"Thank you for not betraying me."
"They didn't recognise you." replied Eragon.
"No."
"And you still say that you are Morzan's son?"
"Yes," he sighed.
Eragon opened his mouth as if to speak, but stopped when he was hit by a drop of Saphira's blood. He face changed with realisation that she was injured. Murtagh and Lorena watched as he healed the wounds on Saphira's wings and nose with magic.
When he finished he slumped against Saphira, breathing hard. Murtagh looked up from the floor and over to the door. "I hope they bring food soon."
"Why are you here?" asked Eragon.
"What?"
"If you really are Morzan's son, Galbatorix wouldn't let you wander around Alagaësia freely. How is it 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?" His voice rose to a near shout at the end.
Murtagh ran his hands over his face. "It's a long story."
"We're not going anywhere," rebutted Eragon.
"It's too late to talk."
"There probably won't be time for it tomorrow."
Murtagh wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees, rocking back and forth as he stared at the floor. "It's not a—" he said, then interrupted himself. "I don't want to stop... so make yourselves comfortable. My story will take a while." Lorena was as comfortable as she was going to get, so they waited while Eragon shifted against Saphira's side and nodded. Saphira watched on intently.
Murtagh's first sentence was halting, but his voice gained strength and confidence as he spoke. He told a tale of how his parents met, how his mother fell in love and his father took advantage of that. He spoke of how he was born and being kept separate from his mother, how at age three Morzan had thrown Zar'roc at him and split open his back, giving him that terrible scar. How his mother had disappeared for months and no one was able to find her, until eventually she returned in poor health and died within a fortnight. How the thirteen forsworn and at last his father had died from suicide, ambush, overuse of magic, but mainly because of the Varden. He spoke of his upbringing in Urû'baen, and how on his eighteenth birthday Galbatorix himself had told him of his amazing vision for the Empire and how he had asked Murtagh to serve him. He spoke of how he agreed and that he was called to service months later, how the king had gone mad and ordered the execution of Varden and innocent lives alike. He spoke of how he and his servant Tornac had escaped that very night, how they were ambushed and of Tornac's death.
"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 rumour, 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? 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?" demanded Murtagh. "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," he paused, then said with distaste, "rebels 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 travelled together!"
"It isn't that bad," Eragon said. Murtagh snorted derisively and looked away. "I'm sure that they won't be—" his words were cut short as the door opened a hand's breadth and three bowls were pushed through the space. A loaf of bread and a hunk of raw meat followed, then the door was shut again.
"Finally!" grumbled Murtagh, going to the food. He tossed the meat to Saphira, who snapped it out of the air and swallowed it whole. Then he tore the loaf in thirds, gave a piece to Eragon, picked up two bowls and returned to Lorena.
They ate silently. When they finished Murtagh announced, "I'm going to sleep." He put down his bowl and lay on his side. Lorena gathered the bowls and placed them neatly stacked by the door.
"Good night," said Eragon, lying next to Saphira.
"Good night," Lorena called out as she returned to Murtagh, she lay on the ground beside him. Wrapping her arm around him, she nuzzled her head into his back before falling asleep.
