Chapter Fifty-Five

The Return

In spite of his anxiety when he went to bed that night, Vander fell asleep very quickly. So exhausted from the strain of the last few weeks that he didn't even dream, he slept through the night and did not wake up until well after sunrise the next day.

He woke up feeling much better, but his stomach lurched when he remembered the events of the previous day. He got up and practically ran to the window. The sun was already high in the sky – it would be noon in a few hours. Cursing, Vander pulled on his clothes as fast as he could and left the room, pausing to grab his sword on the way out. Full of a strange feeling of inevitability, he headed for the dining hall in the hopes of finding the others.

When he entered, he saw them sitting at the table, and Galbatorix was with them. He was sitting hunched in a chair and very slowly eating a bowl of soup, wincing each time he lifted his arm. His face was pale and his eyes darkened, but other than that he looked well enough.

Relief flooded into Vander's chest. He sighed and sat down on the other side of the table. 'Good morning, sir. How do you feel?'

Galbatorix glanced up at him, and though he said nothing his eyes showed the hint of a smile before he returned to his food.

'Told you he'd be all right,' said Morzan, from his seat beside his leader. He was still wearing the clothes he'd had on the previous night, and his face was pale and drawn with exhaustion, but he grinned anyway, showing a couple of gaps in his teeth from his time at Vroengard.

'Morning, Vander,' said Tranah. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Very well, thankyou,' said Vander. 'Is there any more of that soup?'

Tranah nodded toward an iron pot resting on the table to her left. 'It's not very good, but there's plenty of vegetables and things in it. I made it myself.'

Vander found a bowl and helped himself to a few ladles. 'So,' he said, picking up a spoon. 'What happened?'

'Not much, really,' said Tranah. 'We went to check on him an hour or so ago, but Shruikan wouldn't let us near him. In the end he woke up on his own and came inside. Looks like you did your job, Vander.'

Vander smiled slightly. 'So how do you feel, sir?' he asked. 'How much pain is there?'

Galbatorix glanced up at him and shook his head once, silently.

'He hasn't said anything all morning,' said Morzan. He hesitated. 'There ain't… there isn't something wrong with his voice, is there?'

'There shouldn't be,' said Vander, frowning. 'The throat is the seat of the voice, not the chest. I'd advise to just leave him alone, and he'll talk when he's ready.'

He stopped and stared at the window as a mournful howl drifted up from outside.

'Shruikan,' said Tranah. 'He keeps on doing that. It's making Aedua nervous.'

Vander shrugged and settled down to eat. The soup was lukewarm and oversalted, but compared to the travel rations he'd lived on for the last few weeks it tasted delicious. Tranah passed him some bread to clean the bowl with, and when he'd finished he sat back and sighed. 'Ah… that was good. Thankyou, Tranah.'

'Don't mention it.' Tranah glanced at Galbatorix. 'I suppose we should just stay here awhile, until he's recovered.'

Galbatorix had evidently done eating, for he put down his spoon and pushed the bowl away.

'More, sir?' said Tranah.

Galbatorix shook his head and stood up. He stumbled a little, and Morzan helped to steady him, saying, 'Careful, there, sir.'

Galbatorix inclined his head toward him and walked out of the room, moving slowly and carefully, his shoulders hunched and head bowed.

Morzan watched him go. 'I've never seen him look like that,' he said. 'Not even after what happened at Orthíad when he got poisoned. Not even in Teirm when he was gonna be hanged. Not even when he was going to Gil'ead to save Kaelyn. I don't like it.'

'He's mourning for Flell,' said Tranah. 'That's all.'

Morzan choked on the mug of water he was drinking. 'What? Mourning? For that cursed slut?'

Tranah shrugged. 'People's minds work in strange ways. I wouldn't be surprised if he still felt something for her. Anyway, I suggest just leaving him alone.' She yawned. 'In the meantime, I think I'll go and practise some swordplay, get my hand in again. Care to join me?'

'I'll come,' said Morzan.

'I've got to fix Ymazu's saddle,' said Vander. 'I'll see you two later.'

They left the dining hall.

None of them saw Galbatorix again that day. They spent the rest of the morning carrying out various sundry tasks and generally taking it easy, all glad to finally have some time to themselves after so much recent strain. Vander repaired Ymazu's saddle and saw to her talons, and then spent an hour sorting through his belongings, sewing up holes in his clothes and reordering everything, making sure nothing had been lost or damaged during the journey. After that he slept for a while and then went to the kitchens to find something to eat. He eventually realised that he was enjoying himself. It seemed like an eternity since he had last had time to waste like this, and he relished it now.

That afternoon he headed for the dining hall again, expecting to find the others there. But when he opened the door he found Morzan and Tranah absent.

Inside was Galbatorix, all alone. He'd lit the torches on the walls, and the remains of some food were lying on the table. Beside that was a sword with a purple blade and a silver hilt.

Galbatorix was standing up by the wall, holding White Violence. Evidently unaware of Vander's presence, he took up a fighting stance and raised the sword over his head, baring his teeth at the pain this caused him. He stood still for a few moments, and then made a series of thrusts and blows at the air, his motions fast and graceful. He turned sharply and continued to fight an imaginary foe, scowling in concentration all the while – an oddly but endearingly childlike expression.

Vander watched him quietly, with the strange feeling that he was somehow prying into something he wasn't supposed to see. He thought of leaving, but something made him stay where he was.

Galbatorix continued to practise with White Violence for another minute or so, but finally laid the weapon aside and sat down on a chair, breathing heavily and clutching at his chest. He stared at the violet sword on the table, delicately running his fingers over the hilt and blade. His expression was unreadable. Was there sorrow there? Guilt? Anger? Vander wasn't sure. Galbatorix sighed and buried his face in his hands, and Vander left as quietly as he could. For some reason what he had seen left an ominous feeling in his stomach, and the sense of foreboding lasted until evening, when he, Morzan and Tranah made an impromptu meal for themselves and took it up to the dining hall to eat it.

Galbatorix had left by then, but he returned not long later, looking slightly better than before, and accepted a plate of food, which he ate in silence.

When Vander had finished eating, he poured himself another cup of wine and turned to Tranah. 'How much longer d'you think we should stay here, Tranah?'

'Two days, at least,' said Tranah. 'I'd prefer a week, myself.'

'No.'

Everyone looked at Galbatorix.

'What, sir?' said Tranah.

Galbatorix had looked up from his food. 'No,' he said again. His voice was low and hoarse. 'We're leaving,' he said. 'Tomorrow. Early.'

'I really don't think that's a good idea, sir,' said Tranah.

Galbatorix shook his head. 'We go,' he said again.

'To Ellesméra?'

'No. Gil'ead. It's time.'

After that he fell silent again, apparently exhausted by the effort, and ignored any arguments the other three put forward.

'Well, at least you haven't forgotten how to talk,' Tranah said eventually. 'So we're going to attack Ilirea?'

Galbatorix nodded grimly.

'I'm with you, sir,' said Morzan.

'We all are,' said Vander. 'Even if…' he trailed off awkwardly, and looked away. He had been going to say that he had doubts about whether Galbatorix would be strong enough to lead the assault on Ilirea so soon, but he realised that he wasn't likely to be listened to if he did. He sighed and took a mouthful of wine instead.

'We'll probably have to wait until the others get there,' Tranah added. 'I wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em are still off chasing those cowards from Vroengard. Wait a moment… Durza's still at Gil'ead, isn't he?'

'Yes, I saw him before we left,' said Vander.

'I'll contact him, then,' said Tranah. She picked up her cup of wine and looked at the contents. She shrugged. 'It'll do. Draumr kópa.'

A few moments later, faint light glowed out of the cup. Tranah peered at it for a few moments. 'Ah, there you are,' she said at length. 'How are things in Gil'ead?'

She listened to the reply, which was too faint for the others to hear, and nodded.

'Good, good. We're in Marna. We haven't found Vrael. We had some trouble yesterday. Galbatorix got hurt. Yes, he's fine. He'll recover. Listen, we're coming back to Gil'ead. We're leaving tomorrow. We should be there by the Day of the Fifth Hatching if everything goes well. How many of the others are there? Really? How many? Are you joking? Yes, yes, I understand. Well, tell Roland to start preparing the troops. As soon as we get back, we're going to march on Ilirea. All of us. No, Galbatorix has made his mind up. Yes, I told him that. Nevertheless. All right, I'll do that. See you in a few days.'

The glow faded, and Tranah downed the contents of the cup. She shivered. 'Oooh, that tingled. I didn't know you could taste magic like that. Huh. All right, so Durza says all is well. Everyone except Orwyne and Ana are back at Gil'ead, and Orwyne contacted him a few days ago to say she's on her way and Ana's with her.'

'How did they go with the chase?' said Morzan. Beside him, Galbatorix listened intently.

'Very well indeed,' said Tranah. 'Two dead, and five others taken prisoner.'

'Five of them?' said Vander.

'Yes. They ran into some others along the way. They've been brought back to Gil'ead and locked up.'

'How did they managed to catch that many riders?' said Vander.

'Durza says most of 'em just surrendered. In fact, two of them came to Gil'ead and gave themselves up. They're all up. No fight left in 'em now. They've realised they're beaten.'

'What in the world are we going to do with them all?' said Morzan.

Tranah shrugged. 'Beats me. Anyway, the army's running a bit low on supplies, but other than that they're doing well. Roland's been keeping them in line, with some help from Durza and the rest. They're getting a tad restless, so it probably would be a good thing if we went back now and let Galbatorix take command again.'

'What about Vrael?' said Vander.

'Oh, he'll get what's coming to him in the end,' said Tranah. 'He can't hide forever. Especially not from you,' she added to Galbatorix.

He nodded grimly and stood up. 'At dawn,' he said, and left.

Next morning, Vander, Morzan and Tranah rose at dawn. They packed up their belongings and headed straight for the courtyard where the dragons waited.

Galbatorix was already there, strapping on Shruikan's saddle. Normally the black dragon disliked this and would shift and growl irritably, but now he stood still, head drooping. Galbatorix too seemed subdued. He moved slowly and deliberately, with none of his normal energy. But he was dressed in a new robe and his hair was neatly combed as always, and he secured his bags and climbed into the saddle without needing any help.

He nodded curtly to the others, and Shruikan flew up to the dragon roost and waited there until they had saddled up. Once they were ready he took off, and they followed.

Shruikan flew low and wearily, so slowly that Aedua, Ymazu and Idün had no trouble at all keeping up with him and in fact had to hang back to avoid overtaking him. His pace did not pick up at all for the rest of the day, and for the four days it took to get back to Gil'ead he flew like a dragon at the end of his strength.

Galbatorix was the same. He said virtually nothing at all, to anyone. When they stopped each night, he sat by the fire and stared at nothing, wrapped in a cloud of depression that seemed to hover over him like a curse, dampening all their spirits. He scarcely ate, and slept like a dead man, sometimes muttering to himself when he dreamed. None of them had ever seen him so miserable before. Where had his spirit gone? He had turned into a walking corpse, dead-eyed, silent and cold, and nothing they said or did seemed to make any difference. They could only keep watch over him and hope that he would eventually snap out of it.

When they finally arrived at Gil'ead, Roland and Orwyne were waiting for them on the dragon roost. Aedua, Idün and Ymazu circled overhead and let Shruikan land first, which he did clumsily, his claws scrabbling at the stone.

Galbatorix dismounted and stood by the black dragon's shoulder, saying nothing.

Roland came toward him and clapped him on the shoulder. 'Damn good to see you again in one piece, sir! You're a little later than we expected – how was the journey?'

Galbatorix said nothing.

'Sir?' said Roland, suddenly concerned. 'Is something the matter?'

Galbatorix looked up at him. 'I'm well enough, Roland,' he said quietly. 'Well enough. How are you?'

'On excellent form, thankyou, sir,' said Roland. 'And as you can see, Orwyne has returned to us. Ana has done the same.'

'How are you, sir?' said Orwyne. 'We heard you were wounded at Marna – what happened?'

'I don't want to talk about it,' said Galbatorix. 'Orwyne… is the army ready? Are all the Forsworn here?'

'Yes, sir,' said Orwyne. 'Everyone is ready. The armies were prepared to leave as of yesterday. They've got some new banners made up, actually. We've got six riders in the dungeons, plus Oromis and Carina, which makes eight. We have their dragons too. See? There.' She pointed toward the army camped outside the walls. Just visible among them were several dragons, their wings and legs bound.

'Good,' said Galbatorix. 'We're going.'

'When, sir?'

'Immediately.'

Roland looked nonplussed. 'You cannot be serious, sir.'

'Aren't they ready to go?' Galbatorix said, a hint of his old impatience showing in his voice again. 'Well then they'll go. Go and tell the others. Gather everyone in front of the castle. We… the Forsworn will stand on the walls. I will stand in front of the gate, and speak to them. When I have spoken, we will go.'

'Yes, sir,' said Roland.

'What about the prisoners, sir?' said Orwyne. 'I thought you would probably want to speak with them and see if any of them might be interested in joining us.'

'They come with us,' said Galbatorix. 'All of them. The dragons will walk with the army, the riders up the front. Plenty of guards. No risks. Gag them. Don't let them speak. Make them take oaths not to run away.'

'Yes, sir,' said Orwyne, and she and Roland left while Idün, Aedua and Ymazu came down to land.

Galbatorix did not pause to speak with them. He got back onto Shruikan's back and the pair of them flew down to land at the spot just outside the castle gates.

There Galbatorix dismounted and sat down cross-legged on the steps, White Violence lying across his lap. Shruikan crouched behind his rider, wings loosely folded on his back, and the two of them settled down to wait.

'What are you going to tell them?' Shruikan asked.

'What they need to hear.'

'And what do they need to hear?'

'That it's time to fight the last battle of this war,' said Galbatorix. 'And that they'll win it.'

'Is that all?'

'What more do they need?'

Shruikan said nothing. He gently nudged Galbatorix's shoulder with his snout. 'What are we going to do, Galbatorix?'

Galbatorix closed his eyes. 'I'm so sorry, Shruikan. I should have listened to you. I should have made myself be strong. This is all my fault.'

'I don't blame you,' Shruikan said softly. 'You loved her. I felt it in you.'

'No. I love Skade, not her. She was nothing to me. She betrayed me.'

'And you betrayed her.'

Galbatorix laughed bitterly. 'Of course I did. I'm the Great Betrayer, Shruikan. Betrayal is all I know. Flell, the elders, my parents, my people, Laela. I even betrayed Skade. And now I've betrayed you.'

'You didn't betray me,' said Shruikan. 'You didn't betray Skade.'

'Why did it have to be like this?' said Galbatorix, almost plaintively. 'Why? So much suffering and death, when all we fought for is coming to an end?'

Shruikan growled. 'If it must end,' he said. 'Then let it be a glorious end.'

Galbatorix stood up. 'Yes. We must finish it. No matter what the cost.'

Man and dragon stood together in silence, watching as the army slowly gathered. The generals, including Nar Kvarn, led them into the city and bought them to stand in front of the castle, rank upon rank stretching away into the distance, filling the city. Above, the Forsworn started to gather, the dragons seating themselves in a row on the castle wall behind their leader, like an honour guard, scales shining in the sun.

When Galbatorix judged that they were ready, he held White Violence in both hands, resting the tip on the ground, and muttered a spell that would magnify his voice. In front of him he could see the army, its banners rustling in the breeze. Each one was white, decorated with a simple black symbol – three spirals, joined at the centre.

He breathed in deeply, and began.

'My friends!' he cried, his voice carrying over the whole city, 'My followers! My warriors! Free people of Alagaësia! I, Galbatorix Traeganni-Taranisäii, have returned to Gil'ead, and I have brought you a message. That message is a simple one: it is time.'

The assembled troops in front of him stirred, some calling out his name.

'It is time!' he said again. 'Time to leave here and march to one last battle, time to take the fight to our enemies! We will leave Gil'ead and march on Ilirea, now, today, before the sun sets. We will find the last of the elves in their city and we will show them that we do not fear them any longer, whether they be riders or no. We will show them that we are not weak, that we have tired of their tyranny and their cruelty and have come to set ourselves free of them forever! We will kill the last of the riders who serve them, and once the last of the cursed council of elders is dead, Alagaësia will be free.' He paused, watching them all, and lowered his voice. 'We here are all different,' he said in sombre tones. 'We come from different cities, we have different languages and cultures. Many of us are human, but many of us are not. But no matter what our birth, no matter what our race, we have a common cause and a common enemy. Human, urgal, Kull, Ra'zac, Shade, dragon or rider… we fight as one!'

He raised White Violence over his head, and unleashed a quick burst of magic which made lightning flash over the blade, blinding everyone with white light. Simultaneously, Shruikan lifted his head to the sky and roared.

Up on the walls, the dragons of the Forsworn turned their snouts skywards and joined their voices with his, like a pack of giant wolves howling at the moon. Their bellows rose into the air, deep and powerful, the most primal of all battle-cries.

And, spread out through the city below, the army roared back. A hundred thousand voices answered the cry of the dragons. Weapons were smashed against shields or on the ground, adding a mass of metallic crashes and thumps, and in the midst of it all, Galbatorix could hear the words being repeated over and over again.

'RIDER'S BANE, RIDER'S BANE, RIDER'S BANE!'

He smiled sadly to himself. 'Yes,' he whispered, and put White Violence back into its sheath. He climbed onto Shruikan's back and strapped himself into place, and the black dragon took off, swooping low over the heads of the army before he shot straight up into the sky and away over the city. The others rose up from the castle walls in a mighty flock, each one a different colour, still roaring aloud, some spitting coloured flame into the air.

On the ground, the army formed up behind its generals and began to march, passing out of the city gates in a great flood, hundreds upon hundreds of men, urgals and Kull, marching together. Somewhere down there was Durza, and the two Lethrblaka flew just above him, carrying the two juvenile Ra'zac on their backs.

The march toward Ilirea began.