Chapter Eighteen

Scars

The sky over Urû'baen was dark. It was not just a darkness of night, although it was indeed night. Just over the castle there was a darkness that blotted out the stars and the half-moon. From a distance it looked like a cloud, but it wasn't. It was magic. Every so often, faint lights would appear in it, some flickering like lightning, some glimmering like stars or burning like the sun. Anyone who came too close to the city would feel terrible fear and despair biting into them but, then again, fear and despair weren't uncommon feelings in Alagaësia now. Since Rangda and Durza had taken control of the Empire, and since the last cities had fallen to them, misery had become the dominant feeling in the land. There was no joy anywhere now. Anyone who had complained that Galbatorix's rule was a bad one had now very thoroughly learnt an important lesson – that no matter how bad a situation is, it can always get worse. And the situation in Alagaësia had got worse. Immeasurably so. Anyone who even talked of resisting the two Shades was liable to be arrested and taken to Urû'baen. And those who went into the city these days never came out. For a while the rebellion led by the three men known as the Knights of Dras-Leona had brought some hope, but they and their followers had suffered a crushing defeat on the shores of the Leona lake. Most of the rebellion had been killed or enslaved on the spot, and very few had escaped alive.

And the two Shades were not just content with keeping the ordinary inhabitants of Alagaësia under their control. They had other agendas as well. Just like the riders of old, they were prejudiced against certain races – namely, the Southern elves who had once supported the Varden. The vendetta against them was one of the cruellest and saddest parts of this era in Alagaësian history. Rangda and Durza, fighting side-by-side with Vervada as their willing partner, sought out their secret kingdoms and settlements, and there they perpetrated terrible massacres. They left none alive. Within five years, the Southern elves – the 'light' elves, as they had called themselves – were all but extinct. If any survived, they were scattered throughout the land, lost and alone, truly knowing that their time had passed. The dwarves too had suffered, but the Shades had let many of them live on as slaves. The urgals were gone. Lacking the good sense to concede defeat, they fought back recklessly against this new Empire and, tragically but inevitably, were wiped out to the last member of their race.

And there was, of course, no chance of mercy from the new rulers. Rebels, outlaws, anyone who made so much as a token show of resistance, faced death. Many allied themselves with the new Empire – the Shades Empire, as it had begun to be called – out of simple fear. The days became dark and cold, and misery lay over everyone who lived in Alagaësia. This, they knew, was true horror. This was a reign of terror. And it would never end.

Only a handful of rebels still survived, clinging on at the very edges of the Empire's dominions, but they were too weak to offer any real resistance. So far, just staying alive was their main concern.

For a while, some Alagaësians had believed that the old King would return once more to stop the two Shades. His name and deeds were remembered and talked about – how he had fallen in love with a dragon and turned her into an elf so that she could be his Queen, how he had saved Dras-Leona from his enemy, Eragon the Brat, when he came back from the dead, riding a giant ghost dragon. The stories said he was unkillable and had two souls instead of one, and that one day he would come back to reclaim his Empire and liberate them from the evil of Rangda and Durza.

But no-one really believed that. If he had ever been going to return, it would have happened by now. But he had vanished on the day the Shades took command. And no-one had seen or heard from him for a very long time.

It took days to fly over the sea back toward Alagaësia. One of the consequences of Ravana's massive size was that he could not fly as fast as a smaller dragon, and he drifted ponderously over the waves, propelled as much by the storm-wind as by his wings. His family stayed behind him, sheltering under his wings or riding the wind behind him, none daring to try and overtake him. They all knew well enough that he was leading this flight, and that if they tried to go ahead of him it would make him angry.

Skade sat in the huge hollow between his shoulderblades, the wind pulling at her hair. Galbatorix was close to her, and she could hear him muttering to himself as they drew inevitably closer to their destination. She listened closely.

'…can't do it. How can I do it, Laela, how?'

Skade realised that he was trembling. She held him close, her head on his shoulder.

And then, at last, they were there.

They arrived at night, on an isolated beach surrounded by cliffs. Ravana landed on a clifftop with a deafening thud, sending chunks of rock tumbling into the sea below. The rest of his clan landed around him, grouping themselves where he could easily see them and waiting silently for him to speak.

Ravana lay flat on his belly, his legs splayed out. He was breathing like a bellows, and a faint wheezing came from his chest. He coughed several times, making a harsh, barking sound, then shook his head and said; 'You will climb down now, Skade. And your mate as well.'

They obeyed. Once again, it was easier said than done. Both of them were stiff and sore after sitting down for so long, and in the end Skirnir crouched by his grandfather's leg and let them use his back as a step. Once they were on the ground, Ravana brought his head down to peer at them. His huge golden eyes blinked several times, slowly and tiredly. 'Now,' he said, addressing all of them. 'This is what you will do. Skade, you and your mate will seek out the Shades and you will kill them. Lifrasir, Skirnir and Katana will go with you. Skömm, you will also join them.' He moved a little closer, his brutal face and moon-sized eyes terrible and fathomless. 'Do not ask me to help you with this. What you began, you must finish, and if you were meant to be together you will fight side by side. If one of you dies, so must the other. But if I cannot tear you apart, neither can the Shades.' He straightened up. 'This is my will.'

Skirnir, Lifrasir, Katana and Skömm bowed their heads. 'Yes, Lord,' said Skirnir.

Skade and Galbatorix glanced at each other, but then Galbatorix took Skade's hand in his and said; 'We'll do as you've asked, Lord Ravana.'

Ravana showed no sign of having heard him. He groomed his wing with his teeth, nibbling at it with surprising delicacy for one so large, and then resumed. 'The rest of you will come with me,' he said. 'I am going to the Spine to find my son and set our race free. Those who rejected me in the past will accept me now. The time when the youngster fled from his own people is past. I have come to claim my birthright.'

With these cryptic words, he began to walk slowly away inland, his tail dragging. Once he was some way away from them, he took off with a few quick flaps of his wings. Within a few minutes, he had melted away into the night. Balisong, Valdyr and Dreyri said a few brief farewells, and followed him obediently.

The five hatchlings stayed where they were, perched on the ground around Galbatorix and Skade's feet. Galbatorix glanced down at them, and started a little when he saw that there was a sixth hatchling there. A white one.

He blinked. No. There were only five of them. One green, one red, one blue, one silver and one black.

'I wonder what their names are?' he wondered aloud, and irrelevantly.

Skade wasn't listening. 'Galbatorix, where should we go?' she asked.

Galbatorix pulled himself together. 'We should look for people to help us,' he said. 'We can't do this alone. Or we shouldn't. I left Nasuada at Farthen Dûr; we'll start there.'

'The Brat's mate?' said Skade. 'Why?'

Galbatorix shrugged. 'At the very least, she can tell us what's been going on while we've been gone. She's quite resourceful. And no doubt she wants to kill those Shades as badly as we do.'

Skade paused. It sounded like a reasonable enough idea, so she nodded and turned to Skirnir. 'Skirnir, do you know the way to Farthen Dûr?'

'Yes,' said Skirnir. 'Climb on my back, mother. Lifrasir, you can carry Father. Katana, stay close to us and keep an eye out for anyone unfriendly. Skömm, you help her. You can take charge of the hatchlings.'

Skömm flicked his wings. 'What am I, a nursemaid?'

'A guard,' said Skirnir, rolling his eyes. 'If that makes you feel braver. But keep them safe.'

Skömm sighed and called the hatchlings to him. They came to him happily enough, and he bade them climb onto his back. They clung there, cheeping at each other, using their wings to balance themselves. Galbatorix and Skade mounted up, and the dragons set out.

It took only an hour or two to get back to Farthen Dûr, but they found it a very different place than it had been before.

There was a cold wind howling through the mountains, making a hollow, desolate sound among the rocky crags. The mountain which had once formed the centre of the old dwarven city was still torn open, the huge hole gaping like a yawning mouth into darkness. When Lifrasir and Skirnir landed at its peak and began looking around, they found that the ground was littered with skeletons.

Most of them were dwarvish, others human or possibly elvish, but they were everywhere, lying abandoned and exposed to the elements. Galbatorix and Skade dismounted to have a closer look at them, and quickly decided that there must have been a battle fought there. Broken weapons lay among the bones, rusting slowly away to nothing. Galbatorix picked up the skull of a dwarf and showed it to Skade. 'Look here,' he said, indicating a deep cut in the bone. 'That was what killed him, most likely. Probably a sword, maybe a light axe.' He tossed the skull aside. 'This isn't from when we fought the Varden here. I had the bodies properly buried or burnt. This has to have been something more recent.'

Skade sniffed the air. 'There are people around,' she announced. 'I can smell them.'

Galbatorix watched her standing there in the moonlight, poised in readiness to run or fight. 'Are you sure? What sort of people?'

Skade sniffed again. 'Dwarves, I think. And humans. Skirnir, can you pick it up too?'

Skirnir's nostrils flared. 'Yes,' he said. 'Dwarves, definitely.'

Katana came to his side. 'They're still here,' she said.

Galbatorix drew his sword. 'We should probably-,'

'Stop right there!'

The instant the voice spoke, the rocks all around them suddenly sprouted a crop of shadows. Galbatorix and Skade backed away toward the four adult dragons, who growled warningly as the strangers emerged.

There were dozens of them, mostly dwarves, but with a few humans among them. They appeared as if by magic from the cover all around, pointing weapons at the intruders.

Their apparent leader lit a torch and held it up, revealing himself to be a human. He was ragged and underfed, and wore an odd array of mismatched armour. There was a sword in his hand.

He took in the dragons, and rapped out a quick command to his subordinates, who backed away slightly.

'Who are you?' Galbatorix demanded, coming forward.

The man eyed him warily. 'Friend or foe?' he asked.

'Foe of the Shades, and friend of anyone who wants them gone,' Galbatorix answered promptly. 'What are you doing here?'

'I might ask you the same question,' said the man, lowering his sword. 'Who are you? Give me your full name. And why do you have dragons with you?'

Galbatorix sighed. 'I am… Galbatorix Taranisäii, of Teirm, son of Skandar Traeganni of the North and Ingë Taranisäii of the Ancient House of Taranis. Former King of Alagaësia, known as the Riders' Bane or the Great Betrayer, although not in my hearing most of the time. And this is my Queen, Skade, daughter of the Night Dragon. These dragons are Katana, Lifrasir, Skirnir and Skömm.'

The man stifled an incredulous laugh. 'Galbatorix Taranisäii? Former King of Alagaësia?'

'Yes. Don't bother to kneel or anything, I'm in no mood for ceremony. Now, what are you doing here? I'm assuming you're not working for the Shades.'

The man blinked at him. 'No, look… tell me who you really are and stop joking around.'

Galbatorix sighed. 'I've never been known for my sense of humour, and right now I'd be hard-pressed to think of a worse occasion for making jokes. Now answer the question and stop wasting my time.'

'Well, my name's Jarsha,' said the man. 'But I really don't think… uh…' he looked apprehensively at the dragons. The truth was that he would have taken them all prisoner by now, but the idea of trying to capture four large dragons was not an appealing one.

'Tell us where we can find Nasuada,' Skade interrupted. 'We've come to help her.'

Jarsha looked helplessly at his subordinates. Several of them shrugged. He appeared to reach a decision, and pointed at one of the dwarves. 'Go and get Nasuada,' he said. 'Fast as you can.'

The dwarf dashed off.

'All right,' said Jarsha. 'But… look, you can't really be the King. I mean, here? Where did you come from? And if it's really you, where have you been all this time?'

'I went to find my Queen,' said Galbatorix. He kept his sword in his hand, still on the alert in case the man decided to attack. 'Now, tell me what's been going on while I've been away. I assume Rangda and Durza took control?'

'You bet they did,' Jarsha said gloomily. 'You can't go anywhere without hearing about the horrible things they've been doing. But… look, are you really him? Galbatorix, I mean?'

Galbatorix stuck his sword into the ground point-first, and wordlessly held out his hand, palm-first. The gedwëy ignaesia shone faintly in the moonlight, and Jarsha gaped at it. 'My gods. It really is you. What are you doing back here? You're supposed to be dead!'

'Where do people get these ideas from?' Galbatorix said sourly.

Jarsha gave him a helpless look. 'Uh…'

'He looks very healthy for someone who's dead,' said Skade, snickering.

At this point the dwarf returned, and Nasuada was with him. She stared at Galbatorix.

'You!'

'Hello, Nasuada,' said Galbatorix.

Nasuada had changed. She looked older, and tireder, her face lined. But she looked tougher, too. In her hand was the green-bladed sword, Svard-Hvass. 'What are you doing here?' she demanded.

'I went to find the Queen,' Galbatorix repeated patiently. 'Nasuada, this is Skade, my Queen. Skade, this is Nasuada. Now, I'm assuming that you and your friends here are trying to resist the Shades?'

'We are,' said Nasuada. 'But how can you be back here? Where were you all this time?'

'I went away over the sea,' said Galbatorix. 'So…' he eyed the humans and dwarves who had grouped themselves behind their leader. 'I have to say I'm impressed you've managed to gather this many followers in such a short space of time. But why are you still here at Farthen Dûr? Surely the Shades know about this place?'

'Spare me your sarcasm,' said Nasuada. She pointed her sword at him. 'Leave here,' she said. 'We won't attack you if you leave peacefully, but we can't let you stay here.'

Skade snarled at her. 'He saved your life, human. And he is your rightful King. Show some respect.'

Nasuada stood a little straighter. 'I haven't forgotten what you did for me,' she admitted coldly. 'But I can't trust you. Go now, and take your friends with you. I'm willing to put the past behind me in return for what you did, but that's as much as you'll get from me.'

Galbatorix sheathed his sword. 'I suggest you think again,' he said. 'I'm here to help you. And if you don't accept my offer… we have a common enemy now, and time is short. So I suggest we put our differences aside. What do you say?'

'I say he's a liar,' said one of the dwarves.

'And so do I,' said Nasuada. 'If you're expecting me to trust you, half-breed, think again. Don't think I'm stupid enough to fall for your lies. If you think you can use us to win your throne back…'

'I don't,' said Galbatorix. 'And if you really don't think you can lower yourself to fight beside me, I'll go alone. This isn't about power, Nasuada. And in any case… if you'd rather have a Shade ruling the Empire, I'm quite capable of leaving you to sort it out on your own.'

'We know what we're doing,' said Nasuada.

'I'm sure you do,' said Galbatorix.

Nasuada hesitated, trying to decide whether there had been any sarcasm in his tone.

'You have two options,' said Galbatorix, interrupting her thoughts. 'Either agree to let me help you, and we'll go somewhere a little safer and talk, or refuse me and I'll go.'

Nasuada impressed him by staying firm. 'I can't accept your help,' she said. 'You're asking me to trust you, but you're the last person I could bring myself to trust.'

'Trust won't be necessary. I can take an oath in the ancient language.'

'I don't speak the ancient language,' said Nasuada. 'The offer is meaningless.'

'Murtagh can speak it,' said Jarsha.

Nasuada glared at him, and he cringed.

'Ah, so Murtagh's with you, is he?' said Galbatorix. 'Very good. I was wondering what had happened to him.'

'Just go,' said Nasuada, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword. 'There is no way we can work with you, even if it's against the Shades.'

Jarsha tugged at her sleeve. 'Don't do that, Nasuada,' he hissed. 'We should ask the others first! What if he can help us with-?'

Nasuada didn't take her eyes off Galbatorix. 'No!' she answered sharply. 'He's a liar, Jarsha. Everyone who allies with him dies.' To Galbatorix she said; 'Go. Just go, before I change my mind.'

'But Carnoc said-,' Jarsha began.

Nasuada hit him on the leg with the flat of her sword. 'Shut up!'

'I have an idea,' Galbatorix broke in. 'How about I leave you to confer with your friends, and we'll meet somewhere else to discuss it with them?'

Nasuada hesitated. 'I agree. However-,' she lifted her sword slightly – '-Come alone. Just you and the Queen. Leave the dragons behind.'

Galbatorix nodded. 'I agree. At the foot of the mountain, in one hour. I'll be waiting for you there.'

Nasuada put her sword back into its sheath, nodded briefly and left, her companions following. Galbatorix and Skade watched them go, and once they were well out of sight Skade said; 'It's a trap. We should just go.'

'It isn't,' said Galbatorix. 'I know how she works. Lying would be too dishonourable for her. Only evil people like me do that sort of thing.' He smiled thinly. 'But we'll take precautions. Just in case. Katana, Skirnir, Lifrasir, you three will find vantage-points and keep a close eye on what goes on. If I don't like how things are going, I'll give you a signal. Skömm, you circle overhead. Survey the area. And keep the hatchlings with you; I don't want them caught up in the middle if anything dangerous happens. Understood?'

They nodded.

'I don't understand why we have to both with them, though,' said Lifrasir. 'They'll never trust us. And anyway… can't we do this without them?'

'In situations like this, you need all the help you can get,' said Galbatorix. 'Don't forget about Vervada. They'll have dozens of people around them that'll need killing before we can fight them directly. The more people we have fighting on our side, the better.'

'But they'll never agree,' said Skade. 'You know what humans are like.'

'Oh, don't worry about that,' said Galbatorix. 'If I really have to, I can make Nasuada an offer she'll find very hard to refuse.'

'What's that?' said Skade.

'Something I happen to know she wants very badly. Come on.'

An hour later, Galbatorix and Skade sat waiting together at the base of the mountain. Lifrasir, Katana and Skirnir were nearby – Skirnir had concealed himself in a gorge nearby, and his sisters were perched on the mountainside, looking like heaps of boulders in the darkness. Skömm was far overhead, his black scales nearly impossible to spot in the darkness.

Galbatorix had seated himself on a heap of rocks, his sword across his lap, and Skade sat beside him, holding his hand. She had rarely let go of it since their arrival – it was as if she was afraid that he might be dragged away from her at any moment if she didn't keep hold of him. Plainly, she was unhappy to be back in Alagaësia.

Galbatorix stayed close to her, and silently vowed that he wouldn't leave her side again if he could possibly help it. Their long separation over the past few months had obviously taken its toll on her as much as him.

He'd made a few crude torches out of dry wood and spaced them throughout the meeting place, casting a spell on each one so that it would burn longer and brighter. The area was now quite well-lit – when Nasuada and her friends came, they would be clearly visible.

When Nasuada did come, she had three other people with her – and Galbatorix recognised two of them.

'It's good to see you, Murtagh. And you, Carnoc… how did you get here?'

Carnoc looked at him in disbelief. He'd changed too; become leaner and harder. He was wearing a rusting breastplate and carried Ulfrid's old sword in his belt. 'My gods,' he said. 'It really is you. How did this… how did you… where did you go?'

Galbatorix stood up. 'I went to find the Queen,' he said. 'I'm sorry for the absence, but I came back as fast as I could.'

'As fast as-?' Carnoc choked.

Murtagh was a little calmer. 'You just won't stay dead, will you?' he said.

'Sorry to disappoint you,' said Galbatorix. 'Now, to begin with, why don't you tell me what's been happening these last few weeks? I saw the bones up on the mountain… was there a battle here?'

'Five years ago, yes,' said Murtagh. 'The Shades came here to try and remove us. We went into hiding afterwards.'

The fourth person there, a small girl who looked about eleven, looked nervously at Galbatorix and then tugged Nasuada's elbow. 'Is that him, Mother?' she asked.

'It's him,' Nasuada confirmed. 'Come back from the dead again.'

'Who's this, then?' said Galbatorix, looking at the child. There was something oddly familiar about her…

Nasuada put her hand on the girl's head. 'This is my daughter, Sif.'

'I didn't know you had a daughter.'

'She was born after you left,' said Nasuada.

Galbatorix blinked. 'And… how old is she?'

'I'm ten,' said Sif. 'How old are you?' she added boldly.

'A hundred and twenty-five. Nasuada, how is this possible? How long was I gone for?'

'Nearly eleven years,' said Nasuada.

A tense, bewildered silence followed.

'I see,' Galbatorix said eventually, showing no sign of surprise. 'Anyway, let's get down to business. I've come back in order to fight Rangda and Durza, and I've brought some dragons along to help. However, victory would be much more likely if you were to join forces with me. Failing that, if you could give me some information about where they are and what they've been doing while I've been gone, I would be very grateful.'

There was another silence.

'I don't believe this!' Carnoc burst forth suddenly. 'You disappear like that for ten years, leave us all to go through hell without so much as bothering to explain why, and then you come back and expect us to help you! I can't believe I fought for you. D'you know Leonol and Ulfrid died swearing you'd show up any minute to save us? I saw them die, and the rest of those poor brave sods along with 'em, and they all did it to save your Empire while you was off somewhere, keepin' your own sorry hide in one piece.' He spat at Galbatorix's feet. 'Far as I'm concerned, you can bugger off back to where you came from and leave us in peace.'

Galbatorix looked at him steadily. 'I'm sorry, Carnoc. I did all I could, but I failed, and I've come back to set things right if I can.'

'No you haven't,' said Carnoc. 'You just want your damned throne back. That's all you ever wanted.'

'I've come back to set Alagaësia free,' said Galbatorix. 'That's all.'

Carnoc snorted. 'You're a liar. Leonol was right. You don't care about us. You never cared about us. All you care about is power.'

'That's not true!' Skade shouted.

Galbatorix waved her into silence. 'You really think so?' he asked Carnoc.

'Yes,' said Carnoc.

Galbatorix watched him and his companions. All of them were looking at him with anger and contempt.

'I see,' he said quietly. 'So that's what you think.'

'We do,' said Nasuada. 'Carnoc's right.'

'You let us all down,' said Murtagh. 'Left us to suffer instead of you. But that's what you do, isn't it? It's what you've always done.'

Skade growled at him. 'Don't you dare insult him,' she threatened.

'Perhaps I should show you my memories,' Galbatorix said.

Without waiting for an answer, he let go of Skade's hand and started to undo the fastenings of his robe. He shrugged himself out of the sleeves and let the garment drop to the ground, leaving him clad only in his boots and trousers.

Underneath he was thinner than anyone had realised, but sinewy. His chest and shoulders were well-muscled, his arms well-proportioned and elegant. A worn amulet hung around his neck; shaped like a dragon with an empty eye-socket like a skull, made from rusting iron.

And he was scarred. So much so that the onlookers, with the exception of Skade, winced.

Galbatorix touched a long, pale scar that went the length of his chest, tracing it with his fingertip. 'This one is from when I was a boy. A wild dragon attacked me. And here-,' he indicated another scar, this one much smaller. 'This is from where an assassin tried to kill me. And here-,' this one was on his side, deep and puckered, obviously from a life-threatening injury. '-This is from where Vrael hit me with his sword. And here-,' several long, faint scars on his upper arms and one on his stomach – '-I got these when I fought the urgal clan that tried to invade Daret, fifty years ago. I went there personally to fight them off. People told me I shouldn't, but I did anyway. And here, this one, is from when I took a blow aimed at someone else, and these little pits all over my middle are from when I caught the pox during the plague in Gil'ead. I went there to treat the sick. And…' he looked straight at Nasuada, and touched a spot where his ribcage was slightly sunken, as if there was a hole under the skin. 'This is where my ribs were broken while the Varden held me captive. And these here, on my back…' he turned, and let them see that his back was a mass of painful-looking marks. 'This is from when the riders had me whipped before they threw me in the dungeon. They would have executed me the next day, if I hadn't escaped.' He turned around again, and continued. 'And this one just above my eyebrow is from the day the dark elves were massacred. I barely escaped that one with my life. And here-,' he held out his arms, his hands palm-up as if in supplication. Both forearms were covered in ugly, raised marks. 'That's from where Vervada bit me at Eragon's command. Those teeth of hers are poisonous, you know. Not deadly, but extremely painful. And here…' this was an old burn-mark on his shoulder. 'This is from a magical attack. It happened on the day when…' he paused, his eyes distant. '…the day when the riders killed my dragon.'

'The riders didn't-,' Nasuada began.

'I assure you, they did,' Galbatorix said sharply. 'There were two of them. They were under orders to kill me because my father was a dark elf. And Laela died. There, in the snow, full of arrows. I…' his voice broke. 'I held onto her as she died, and saw the look in her eyes, and she said… she told me not to be afraid. And then she died.' He breathed in deeply, and touched the deep, still-red mark that lay right over his heart. 'And this is from where Eragon shot me.'

'What's that one there?' Sif interrupted, pointing at a small scar in the hollow of his neck.

'Oh, that one?' said Galbatorix, touching it. 'That's from where Skade bit me, actually.'

'Was she angry with you?' said Sif.

Galbatorix chuckled in spite of himself, and picked up his robe. 'Very.'

As he was pulling his robe back on, Sif said; 'And what's that mark on your neck?'

It wasn't so much a scar as a mark. It was quite faint, but was an ugly purple and red colour. Galbatorix paused in the middle of doing up his robe. 'That one,' he said. 'Is from a very long time ago.'

'Yes, but what was it from?' Sif persisted.

'It's a rope scar,' said Galbatorix.

'A what?' said Sif.

'I tried to hang myself, Sif,' said Galbatorix.

'Why?' said Sif.

'Because I wanted to die. But Skade stopped me.'

He straightened his robe, and looked seriously at Murtagh, Carnoc and Nasuada. They were looking at him in shock.

'My scars are my memories,' he said. 'And nearly every single one of them were for Alagaësia and its people. The old word for "King" comes from the name of a kind of shield, and that's what I am. I stood between Alagaësia and its enemies for a hundred years, and those scars, those old injuries, were my only reward.' He looked at them, his eyes a little sad. 'You can call me whatever you please. Call me the Betrayer, if you want to. Call me half-breed, bastard, liar, murderer… but never say I don't care about this country. Whenever I fought to keep stability, I was fighting for you. And now I'm back to fight for you again.'

Nasuada started to speak, and stopped.

'I lost as much as you did when the Shades took over,' Galbatorix added. 'Believe me.'

'I'll fight beside you,' said Murtagh. 'For a while. Not to give you back control of the Empire, but to kill the Shades.'

'I appreciate your sentiments… Galbatorix,' Nasuada said stiffly. 'However-,'

'If noble sentiments don't impress you, there is something else I can offer you,' said Galbatorix, cutting her off.

'Oh?' said Nasuada. 'Surely you aren't offering me the throne.'

'The throne isn't mine to give away,' said Galbatorix. 'No, it isn't that. I think…' he looked at Sif. She was an attractive child, with brown skin and blue eyes. Her hair was blonde, and she had pointed, fey features. Eragon… she had his look about her. 'Eragon is your father, isn't he?' said Galbatorix.

Sif nodded solemnly. 'He died before I was born,' she said.

'I expect your mother told you that,' said Galbatorix. 'Yes…' he looked at Nasuada again, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

'Durza killed him,' the dark-skinned woman said coldly. 'You told me as much yourself.'

'I'm afraid I was lying,' said Galbatorix. 'The – Eragon isn't dead. Not quite. His mind is still in there, but controlled.'

Nasuada breathed in sharply. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because it would have been crueller to tell you the truth,' said Galbatorix. 'But if you agree to help me, I can help you in return.'

'How?'

'There is a way to set him free,' said Galbatorix. 'If you help me, I can give Eragon his mind back.'

Nasuada paused. 'If you're lying…'

'No. I'll take an oath in the ancient language.'

Galbatorix stared challengingly at Nasuada, and at long last she said; 'Very well. I accept your offer. Now take the oath.'

Galbatorix nodded. He switched to the ancient language, and said; 'I swear on my honour as a rider that I will set Eragon free in return for your allegiance.' He could feel the magic binding him to his oath, and shivered slightly. There was no going back now.

Murtagh translated his words, and Nasuada listened closely. 'It's settled,' she said. 'We'll start making plans tomorrow.'