This chapter isn't as long as my first but I'm going to try to keep my chapters in the 3,000-5,000 word range. I don't like writing short chapters. Also, there aren't going to be many chapters with Murtagh because I don't know him enough to write about him and stay true to his character. The next chapter will be about Eragon. But anyway, happy reading and I don't own Eragon but I wish I did. ReadReview!
After some labored flying, Thorn was able to rest in a clearing a league away from Gil'ead. Picketed in the clearing were Snowfire and Cadoc, who snorted nervously at Thorn's seemingly abrupt appearance. Murtagh immediately slid to the ground, and attended to Thorn, looking for potential injuries while Brom readied the horses with the elf woman who had aided in their escape. For some reason, the elf in question had looked reluctant to leave Gil'ead. It must have been the drugs, Murtagh thought, shaking his head. Why would she want to stay in the Empire?
I'm not hurt, Thorn's deep voice rumbled in his mind. I'm just tired.
Thank the gods above, saidMurtagh, breathing a sigh of relief before fiercely hugging his dragon around the neck. Thank you, what you did was incredible, Thorn. I will never forget it.
You can thank me by staying out of harm's way. If Brom hadn't been able to give that dragon such a large dose of his sleeping potion, I do not think I could have stood up to her; she was many times my size. I'm sure she would've chased us all the way to the Varden.
At that, Murtagh hesitated, remembering the words that the tall armored man had spoken to him when he was still locked in his cell. I don't think so. At this he shared the memory with Thorn, who seemed intrigued by the revelation.
"Murtagh!" He turned as Brom came up behind him.
"What?"
"What? What do you mean, what?" Brom asked incredulously. "After all I went through to get you out of that hole, that is the first thing you say to me?"
He immediately backtracked at the old man's anger. "Sorry! Sorry! I'm just a little jumpy right now."
"Aren't we all?" He glanced at Thorn. "How's he holding up?"
"He'll be fine, he's just tired." Murtagh said, running a hand over Thorn's ruby red scales. Brom gave him a sympathetic look.
"He'll have to carry you for a little longer. We have to get as far away from Gil'ead as possible. I'm not sure how long the sleeping potion I gave that dragon will last, not to mention that Durza might be on our trail," Brom explained. At this, Thorn got to his feet, crouching for Murtagh to climb up onto his makeshift saddle. "We'll follow you from below."
"If there's any trouble, tell me." Murtagh said as Thorn pushed off of the ground with his hind-legs. As they flew, he chanced a glance back in the direction they came from, half expecting a large blue dragon to be on their tail, a fearsome man riding atop of it.
That dragon was much larger than me. I could not have beaten her. He could hear the slight sense of shame in Thorn's thoughts, for if he and the blue dragon were to go up against each other, Thorn would certainly lose because of his size and lack of experience in battle.
Remember that you will eventually grow as big, Thorn.
Yes, but that dragon will also be growing as well. Unless we receive proper training, we cannot fight such opponents as those and expect to win.
Acknowledging Thorn's statement, Murtagh finally realized something that was bothering him. How do you know the dragon was a female?
Thorn grumbled, amused at his question. I can tell the differences in genders of my own race.
Despite the fact that they were degrading their skills, Murtagh knew that Thorn was right. The blue dragon and her Rider must be very skilled, with Galbatorix himself as their master. They were no doubt much stronger and more experienced than both Murtagh and Thorn. At the thought of the Rider, he felt an odd curiosity swell inside him.
He had wanted me to escape, had given me the vital information I needed to leave Gil'ead. So why did he erupt into such a fury when Thorn had arrived? We did poison his dragon with the sleeping potion…
Or it could be that the elf escaped with the egg, Thorn chimed in, after a while of flying.
I don't think it was, in that case he would have been aiming for her instead of Brom. That was right, when the armored man caught sight of Brom; he had immediately sprung into action, grabbing a bow and quiver from a nearby soldier. He'd been so intent on killing Brom that, Murtagh thought with a jolt, if the elf hadn't been there, he would have surely died. There must be something between them for him to hate Brom that much.
Perhaps…we'll have to ask Brom what he knows.
They traveled through the night, not stopping, even when their flagging strength began to slow them. They continued onward, despite burning eyes and clumsy movements. Below and behind them, lines of torch-bearing horsemen could be seen searching around Gil'ead for their trail. After many bleary hours, dawn finally began to lighten the sky. Land, we have to make camp. I'm afraid that if we travel any further, it might drive the horses to death, Brom's voice echoed in his mind.
He was so tired that he didn't have the energy to even try to block out Brom with his mind. I'll have to be more alert next time, thought Murtagh. They followed Brom's directions, and found the horses drinking from a stream at the base of a small cliff. Brom and the elf were sitting against the rock surface, seemingly discussing something in hushed voices. They immediately glanced up at Thorn and Murtagh's arrival. Brom stood while the elf did not move from her seat. "Glad to be out of that, aren't we?" Brom said with a grim smile, handing him a fresh apple. He didn't bother asking where the old man had gotten it but instead gratefully took it while Thorn went to drink from the stream, startling the horses. Luckily the horses had gotten somewhat used to the presence of the dragon, but evidently still not enough to stay calm when he approached.
"Immensely." He sat down on the ground, grateful to be on solid footing rather than in the air. He was afraid that if he had fallen asleep he would have fallen out of his saddle and to his death. Sensing his fear, Thorn expressed his disapproval. I would have caught you.
Just drink your water, Thorn. Murtagh was not in the mood for this.
Brom looked to him. "We've traveled quite some distance, but it's not time to celebrate yet. Galbatorix isn't going to be happy when he hears that he lost his recently captured Rider, and that's neglecting his last egg disappearing. Speaking of which, I must say, I'm surprised that we were able to acquire it that easily."
Murtagh snorted. "Easy? I would say it was more due to luck." The thoughts that had been on his mind came back to him, and he turned to Brom with interest. "Since we're talking about Gil'ead, can you explain to me why that Rider was so intent on killing you?"
At this the elf glanced towards Brom. Apparently she had been thinking the same thing as well. He rubbed his beard with a thoughtful expression. "I don't understand it myself. I've never met that man in my entire life. I've only heard stories about him. He is the King's Rider, Gabranth."
Gabranth. Murtagh frowned. He had indeed heard that name, but from the stories it was associated with, he never would he have thought that it belonged to that man. "I've heard he answers to Galbatorix with such loyalty that it's remarkable they do not look alike." Murtagh fidgeted, and out of the corner of his eyes, the elf also moved uncomfortably where she sat. Something must have happened between Gabranth and her, Murtagh thought with interest.
"He seems to hate you a great deal. Of all the people he could have been trying to kill it was you," Murtagh said, as he bit into the apple. "He could have aimed for her," he pointed to the elf, "because she had the egg. Or me, because I'm a Dragon Rider." He glanced at Brom closely as if trying to solve a mysterious puzzle. "You must have done something to him."
"Impossible. Gabranth had only started showing up recently, around four years ago. And if staying in Gil'ead has addled your senses, I'll remind you that I have been living in Carvahall for the past fifteen years," Brom said stiffly. Murtagh shrugged.
"Still, he aimed three arrows at you, not to mention that he set them on fire with magic." Suddenly his eyes shot up. "You didn't bed his woman, did you?"
"What in the blazes are you talking about, boy?" Brom roared. Murtagh shrugged again. After a few minutes, Brom was calm enough to speak. "Enough about that." He gestured towards the elf. "I've neglected to introduce the two of you; this is Arya, the Elven ambassador to the Varden." Then he motioned towards Murtagh with a disgruntled expression. "And this is Murtagh, the Rider of the dragon whose egg you had been carrying."
"Thank you for rescuing me." Murtagh said, truly thankful for her help. If it hadn't been for her strength and speed, Brom would have been captured in his attempt to save him from Gil'ead, and if not he would certainly have been killed by those arrows. "But why were you in Gil'ead? Were you also captured by Durza?"
She nodded. "My companions and I were ambushed on our return to Farthen Dûr." He blinked at her rich but accented voice. "Durza and the Urgals are working for Galbatorix."
"This will mean war!" Murtagh cried, after a short stunned silence. "Once the people of the Empire learn of it, they are sure to rebel and support the Varden!"
"If they ever learn of it," Arya corrected. "I don't think Galbatorix is going to announce their allegiance with the Urgals just yet. But even so," she added, her catlike green eyes turned towards the sun rising in the sky, "as long as your people have a common enemy, they will be unlikely to protest this alliance."
"Common enemy?"
"Use your head, Murtagh!" Brom exclaimed. "The elves and the Varden. With the right rumors they can be easily portrayed as the most despicable monsters in Alagaësia; fiends who are waiting to seize your land and wealth. The Empire has had a century to convince people of this. They could even say that the Urgals have been misunderstood all this time, and that they are really friends and allies against such terrible enemies. I only wonder what the king promised them in return for their services, if anything."
"Where is he sending the Urgals then? They were heading southeast as if to brave the Hadarac Desert."
"The Varden." Arya answered in a quiet voice. He turned to her. She was very healthy, he thought. Not one scratch for all the time she'd been imprisoned. He found it hard to believe, but before he could ask, Brom had spoken.
"We should rest; we have a long and arduous travel ahead of us." Murtagh nodded before stretching out a blanket to lie down on. Arya said something to Brom and assumed her position against the rocky surface of the cliff, keeping guard.
Murtagh soon found himself unable to sleep, however, and after an hour of lying still on the ground; he sat up with a sigh. "What troubles you?" Arya's soft voice floated over to him, loud in the silence of the night.
He shrugged. "I keep on thinking about that Rider, Gabranth." Her posture stiffened. "He wanted me to escape." Her bright green eyes turned to him. "When he came to visit me, he told me not to eat the food because it was drugged." He hesitated as he glanced at Arya. "He helped you too, didn't he?"
"Yes." The way she said that one word showed her thoughts of Gabranth; she was as confused by his actions as Murtagh was. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she continued in a soft voice. "I didn't understand him, or his intentions. It was during one of Durza's tortures that I first met him." A breath escaped her lips as she turned her gaze to the stars above, intent on studying the constellations. "I thought that he was going to take Durza's place as my torturer. But that was not so. He helped me, and used magic to heal me to full health, intent on me escaping Gil'ead. For someone so loyal to Galbatorix, he let me escape with both you and the last dragon egg." Murtagh saw her hands grip a pouch in her lap.
He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. No matter what way he looked at it, they were indebted towards Gabranth. "I fear of what Galbatorix may do to him when he learns of his betrayal." She nodded.
"You should rest; we will leave soon for the Varden." He nodded before resuming his position on the blanket below him, now more at ease at having been able to confide in someone, even if it had only been for a few minutes.
For the next two days, Brom had them travel hard and fast, intent on evading the Black King and his army. They traveled with Murtagh riding Thorn, Arya running, and Brom riding the horses. They would regularly rest at half an hour intervals, out of fear of driving the horses to death, until eventually, they reached the borders of the Hadarac Desert.
That night, Murtagh was abruptly roused from sleep. He listened carefully. All was quiet. Uneasily, he slid his hand towards the side of his blanket where Zar'roc lay. He waited for a few minutes, then slowly slid back to sleep. A squeak suddenly pierced the night, tearing him back to wakefulness. Rolling to his feet, he could hear rustling from where Brom lay; he must have heard it as well. "Stop!"
He immediately tensed as Arya's voice cut through the night. A small green glow from a werelight appeared, and much to his shock and amazement, he found himself staring at a green dragon hatchling that was no longer than his forearm. It stood in the center of the triangle that they formed, throwing the last piece of membrane that it had been encased in to the ground. Its scales were a deep, emerald green, like the lush leaves of an aging tree. Despite its audience, it had only eyes for Arya. He watched as it walked up to the elf on unsteady legs, sniffing her curiously before letting out a squeak of excitement.
She tentatively, with a nod of approval from Brom, reached out with her right hand to stroke its head. Instantly her form crumpled to the ground, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. They hurried to her side, laying her down on Brom's blanket, the dragon intently following as if refusing to let its Rider leave its sight even for a minute to recover. After a few moments, the shock of the green egg hatching and its consequences penetrated his mind, and he found himself smiling like a fool.
Another Rider! Now, we are evenly matched against Galbatorix! He thought excitedly, almost shouting with joy. Thorn let out a deep rumble. The green dragon turned to see the large red dragon, noticing his presence for the first time. It let out another excited squeak before running over to greet him. Just watching them interact made Murtagh consider just how quickly Thorn had grown since he was the hatchling's size himself but a few months ago.
"By the gods, we've been blessed." Brom muttered gazing up at the stars. "Two dragons joining the Varden." He let out a bark of laughter. "Finally, we are on equal footing! And Arya as a Rider!"
"This will be quite a story to tell when I arrive home." A dry voice entered their conversation. Arya was just getting up from where she laid, glancing at her right hand. The green dragon turned its attention away from Thorn before walking over to her; it stopped next to her and rubbed a scaly leg against her side. He watched how as she rubbed its head, the dragon arched to her touch in response.
Remembering when Thorn first hatched, Murtagh ran to the horses to grab a few strips of meat before handing it to Arya, who, with her unnatural strength, tore it into small strips, feeding them one by one to her thoroughly overexcited dragon. "So... are you going to train Arya?" Murtagh asked, turning to Brom, who let out a booming laugh.
"Train Arya? She probably knows more about magic then I do, and she definitely has far more years of fighting experience. No, she'll have to train with her people, the elves." A thoughtful expression spread across his face. "I'm overjoyed about having another Rider, but I think if there is any more excitement than what has happened lately, an old man like me might get a heart attack."
Murtagh snorted. I don't believe that. He turned to Thorn. At least you have another companion to talk to.
That is, when he's able to talk, Thorn replied.
It's a he then? You should tell Arya so she can come up with some names for him to choose. I can remember when I had to think of a list for you, Murtagh said, replaying the memory in his head. He watched Arya turn to Thorn before nodding.
"All right, go to sleep, everyone. Let's not let this excitement get to our heads. We still have a long way to go tomorrow, and we need rest," Brom ordered, lying down on his blanket. Murtagh nodded, though he didn't believe he would get much sleep. His heart felt as if it might explode from his chest. This was almost too good to be true. The last thing he saw before sleep took him was the green dragon ambling its way up into Arya's lap before curling up to sleep.
The next morning, despite their happiness, traveling was made much more difficult with a dragon hatchling to carry. Murtagh could not hold the hatchling while flying with Thorn, for the fear of dropping him, and he was too young to fly on his own. The only comfortable solution that they came up with was for the dragon to lie in a saddlebag on Snowfire. It was slightly disgruntled when Arya tried to make it understand with her mind, but did as she asked.
He felt a thrill of excitement overwhelm him as they readied themselves to enter the Hadarac Desert. They were finally leaving the Empire! He was finally going to see a world without Galbatorix's influence.
Vast expanses of dunes spread to the horizon like ripples on an ocean. Gusts of wind twirled the reddish gold sand into the air. Scraggy trees grew on scattered patches of solid ground. The imposing desolation was barren of any animals except for a single bird gliding on the zephyrs.
It was morning of the fourth day since leaving Gil'ead. They had already covered thirty-five leagues. Murtagh had to admit that the journey on dragonback was likely much more pleasant than of that on horseback. He felt guilty as he glanced down to find the horses running through clouds of sand that billowed into a storm as they traversed the Hadarac Desert. Brom and Arya, not to mention her dragon, must be having problems breathing through all of that. He glanced forward: they had a long way to travel if they hoped to make it to the Beor Mountains-and away from Galbatorix.
So, what do you think? I know that having another Rider so soon isn't that true to the book but it's going to get more interesting when Eragon arrives at the Varden. And this is the only way I can have the Durza battle at Farthen Dûr work out. Please review!