Chapter Fifty-Six

The Last Battle

The march to Ilirea took over three weeks. The army moved steadily, following the river, stopping every night with the prisoners closely guarded at the centre of their massive camp. Along the way they passed through several villages, which were systematically stripped of all their supplies and their occupants either killed or dragooned into the army. The Forsworn made a few attempts to stop this, but the army was simply too large to be easily disciplined, and they were already busy enough simply keeping it in line. They spent much of their time in the air, circling over the army and watching over it, or flying ahead to scout out the land and watch for any danger.

As for Galbatorix, he spent much of his time leading from the front, seated on Shruikan's back. The black dragon occasionally flew, but for the most part he stayed grounded, his slow pace matching that of the army's. The ordinary troops seemed to appreciate Galbatorix's presence on the ground with them – it was as if, by staying with them, he was silently telling him that he was their equal and that he cared about them and would be there beside them instead of setting himself apart as most leaders did. At sundown every evening, when they stopped for the night, he and the Forsworn would camp together, ringed by their dragons, but Galbatorix would allow anyone to visit it if they wanted to see or speak with him. He still said very little, but though his eyes were sad there was a certain air about him now – a loneliness and vulnerability that made others feel safe around him.

The Forsworn noticed it too. They, however, were not happy about it. They kept a close watch on their leader, constantly on the alert for any sign that something might be amiss, making sure he had plenty to eat and a good place to sleep. Few of them were willing to admit it out loud, but all of them were deeply afraid. In fact, after a while Tranah or Roland began taking turns to stay up all night and watch over him. Neither of them said anything, but their friends all knew about it.

One evening, in the middle of the second week of travelling, Kaelyn came back into the camp after flying over the area to make sure all was well, and found Galbatorix sitting by the fire on his own. He sat hugging his knees, staring into the black flames, White Violence lying close to his side, his expression distant.

Kaelyn sat down beside him. 'How are you, Master?'

Galbatorix blinked and glanced at her, and then looked away.

Kaelyn plucked up her courage and said; 'I know… I know you said not to talk to you unless it was important. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Are you?'

Galbatorix looked at her again, a little blankly, and then sighed. 'Kaelyn. Hello. Have you still got the eggs?'

'Yes, Master.' Kaelyn pulled her bag toward her and took out three bundles of cloth. She unwrapped them and carefully placed the eggs on the ground by the fire. Their shells gleamed brightly, one red, one blue and one green. Beautiful. She stroked them gently, her expression almost motherly. 'I've been checking on them,' she said. 'Strein taught me how to communicate with them in the mind. The red one's a male. So's the green. The blue one is female. I even found out their names.'

Galbatorix smiled with his eyes. 'What are they?'

Kaelyn touched the green egg. 'Navaras.' The red one. 'Thorn.' And the blue. 'And this one is Saphira.'

Galbatorix sighed. 'Saphira…'

'Do you know that name, Master?'

'That was the name of Brom's dragon,' said Galbatorix. 'Are you taking good care of them, Kaelyn?'

'Yes, Master. I never let them out of my sight.'

'Good. One day they will be the seeds of three new riders. The start of a new order.'

Morzan wandered up at this point. 'You're on patrol duty tonight,' he told Kaelyn, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to emphasise the point.

'But I was on last night!' said Kaelyn.

'Yeah, well, Gern ain't feelin' well. Get going.'

Kaelyn packed the eggs into her bag again and left, muttering resentfully.

'Good, that's gotten rid of her,' said Morzan. 'How're you doin', sir?'

'Fine,' Galbatorix said briefly.

'No pain or anything?' Morzan persisted.

'I'm fine, Morzan. Really.'

Morzan looked at him suspiciously. 'Well… you just tell me if there's anything up, okay?'

Galbatorix stared into the fire. 'I will.'

Morzan hesitated for a moment, and then sat down. 'Sir, what's wrong?' he said. 'I don't like it when people ask me too many questions and I wouldn't wanna do the same to you, but I'm… well, I'm worried about yeh. You've hardly said a word in days.'

Galbatorix said nothing.

'Tranah an' Roland have been watching you at night, you know,' said Morzan. 'They ain't said anything, but I know what they're thinkin'. They're scared you might run off again, or maybe even kill yourself. I told 'em it was a waste of time. You'd never do that.' He paused. '…would you?'

Galbatorix let out a short, dry laugh. 'No.'

'It's not Flell, is it?' said Morzan. 'You ain't… I mean… you can't be upset about that, can you, sir? She was worthless. Nothing but an empty-headed lying whore. She deserved what she got.'

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'But you do know it's true, don't you, sir?' said Morzan. 'I hate seeing you like this. It makes me scared. It's like you've died inside.'

Galbatorix's voice was hollow. 'Really, Morzan?'

'Yes. It's not right. She doesn't deserve to have you so upset about her, and anyway, she's dead and you're not. You can't just give up on us now, sir. Not after all we've been through together.'

Galbatorix looked up at last. 'How can I not feel anything for Flell?' he said. 'She was the mother of the only child I'll ever have. And I loved her.'

'There'll be others, sir,' said Morzan. 'You'll find someone else to love, an' you'll have kids.'

'I already found that someone,' said Galbatorix. 'And she's not here. But even if she ever comes back… no, I'll never be a father. I know it.'

'Galbatorix… you know she ain't gonna come back, don't you? You do know that, don't you?'

'She'll come back. She promised me she would. And if she doesn't, I'll wait the rest of my life for her.'

'Are you mad?' said Morzan. 'No-one can wait that long.'

Galbatorix laughed miserably. 'Oh, I think I can, Morzan. I think I can.'

'But you shouldn't,' said Morzan. 'It's not healthy. Don't pine away forever; find someone else. You shouldn't be on yer own for the rest of your life, it'll kill yeh.'

'No. I swore an oath.'

'So? You can break them if you want to.'

'Yes. But I won't break this one. Not even if the gods themselves asked me to.'

'You must really love that woman,' said Morzan.

'I do, Morzan. More than anything. I hope one day you find someone who'll be as special to you as she is to me. No-one should die without knowing what it feels like.'

'Who was she?' said Morzan. 'What was her name? I always wondered about it, ever since you wouldn't say.'

Galbatorix looked at the ground and said nothing.

'Oh, fine,' said Morzan. 'I'll leave yeh alone. But… cheer up, mate. We've got somethin' big ahead of us. Bigger than anything we've done before. An' we need you to be up an' ready for it when the time comes. You won't let us down, will yer?'

'No. I won't fail you again, I swear.'

'I trust you,' said Morzan.

'Morzan… I'm so sorry for what happened at Vroengard. It was all my fault, and I know there's nothing I can ever do to make it better. Can you forgive me?'

'I never blamed you in the first place, sir,' said Morzan. 'It was my fault. I let meself get caught and used as a hostage to make the others give up; if it weren't for me we could've gotten away, but I went an' nearly got myself and Idün killed, and Tranah an' Vander too. You know what I kept thinkin', down there in the dungeon? I kept wonderin' what I'd say if I ever saw you again, and if you'd forgive me. I kept being scared you'd send me into exile or something.'

Galbatorix stifled an incredulous laugh. 'You can't possibly mean that.'

'I do!' said Morzan. 'An' I thought… well, what would any of 'em want me for any more anyway? 'Cause I thought Idün was dead, see, an'… well, a rider without his dragon's useless. Oh. Dammit, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean it like that…'

'It's all right, I understand. But I wouldn't do that, Morzan, even if you had lost Idün. You're my friend. I went into Vroengard alone to save you, after every single one of the Forsworn had begged me not to, and I would never turn my back on you, no matter what happened. Never.'

'I believe you, sir,' said Morzan.

Galbatorix winced. 'Thankyou, Morzan.'

Ana was the first to spot Ilirea in the distance. She flew back to Galbatorix with the news, her red dragon, Abern, landing beside Shruikan and falling into step with him.

'It's up ahead, sir,' said Ana. 'Abern saw it.'

'How far ahead were you?'

'Not too far. About as far as the army'll get by tonight. By then the others should see it too. I'd say we'll be there in another day or so.'

She and Galbatorix shared this news with the other Forsworn that evening, and the tension in the air rose almost immediately.

'We probably ought to begin discussing a plan of attack,' said Roland. 'Did you have anything in mind, sir?'

'Yes,' Galbatorix said immediately. He glanced around to make sure he had everyone's full attention, and went on, 'There shouldn't be too many riders there by now. The main threat will be from Saraswati and Yansan. Now… as soon as we know which tower they're in, Shruikan and I will attack there immediately. Roland, Tranah, Morzan, you'll come with me. Your job will be to protect me while I break into their minds. With any luck I'll disable them fairly quickly, and then we'll have them down. In the meantime… Orwyne, you, Gern and Vander will attack the other wall. Hit it with magic, fire, rocks… whatever you've got. Break it down and let the army in. The rest of you will attack any other riders who are in the city.'

'That sounds like a workable plan to me, sir,' said Roland. 'And I suggest that we – meaning we riders – fly ahead and attack before the army arrives. To allow more of an element of surprise. Perhaps one or two of us should remain behind to supervise the army.'

'I'll do that,' said Strein. 'Tuomas, you can help me.'

They talked on for another hour or so, refining and fine-tuning their plan of attack. Galbatorix finally returned to something resembling his old self, and was in the midst of the conversation, putting forward ideas and rejecting others, taking command once again. That made Morzan, Tranah and Roland cast some relieved glances at each other. It had taken a long time, but he was starting to come out of his depression. He would be all right eventually.

Sure enough, on the following day, though he remained untalkative, there was a new energy about him. He sat a little more upright on Shruikan's back, watching the landscape ahead and occasionally muttering to himself, evidently deep in thought. That evening he had plenty to say and new ideas and strategies to put forward and was even willing to tell a few stories about Laela.

By now the walls of Ilirea were in sight; a white smudge on the horizon, growing steadily closer, and although the mood around the campfire that night was cheerful and optimistic the members of the Forsworn could not help but stare toward it from time to time, their expressions nervous. Galbatorix, however, remained strangely calm.

Later, when the moon rose and the Forsworn had parted, Vander wandered out of the camp for some time alone. A short distance away, among the trees, he found Galbatorix sitting alone on a log. He was staring at the sky, where the almost-full moon glowed among the clouds, his hands clasped together, making a strange humming, droning sound in the back of his throat.

Vander watched him, wondering what he was doing. Thinking it rude to spy like this, he coughed politely. Galbatorix looked around sharply, then relaxed. 'Vander.'

Vander moved closer. 'What were you doing, sir?'

Galbatorix looked slightly embarrassed. 'Uh… you weren't supposed to see that.'

'It's all right, sir. I'm just curious. Were you working magic or something?'

'No. I was praying.'

'To the moon?'

'Yes. I was using a dark elvish erfyniad – it's an invocation that asks the gods for victory and protection before a battle. I don't really… I don't think I really believe in the dark elvish gods, but I'm doing this for them, partly. I was thinking that if they were still alive they'd be here with us, so I thought maybe… you know, in their honour.'

'I understand,' said Vander. 'In fact…' he glanced over his shoulder. 'In fact, if you must know, last night I made a narthis xaan­ – it's a little effigy made out of dried grass. You make it to represent your enemy, then say a curse over it and burn it. Ymazu burned it for me. Just for good luck. Like my father's tribe used to do long ago. And I've seen Roland praying with his amulet. Tuomas too. He's converted. Become a Peaker.'

Galbatorix sighed. 'I suppose when you're staring death in the face, it's only natural to want to think there's something out there.'

Vander's dark-skinned face hardened into an unexpectedly fierce expression, one most unlike him. 'And it's natural to hope that there could be a hell for us to send them to as well.'

'I don't think so. Killing them should be enough for us. Leave the rest to the gods, or fate, or whatever decides these things. Although, after Vroengard…'

Vander was silent for a time. 'Sir, how are you? I mean, honestly, how are you? Be frank with me. You've been avoiding me for days, and I have to know.'

'What do you want to know, exactly?'

'I want to see the scar,' said Vander. 'So I can be sure it healed properly. At the very least, tell me if there's any pain. Anything at all.'

Galbatorix was silent for some time. 'No,' he said at last. 'There's no pain. It's fine.'

'Any swelling or discomfort? Weakness? Does your arm have its original strength?'

'Yes, Vander. I told you, it's fine.'

'If you don't mind me saying, sir, you've been looking rather subdued lately,' said Vander. 'I thought I noticed some faltering in your arm, and you're looking a little pale. Are you sure there's nothing to tell me?'

'Yes, Vander, I'm sure. I'm just under a lot of stress right now. All right?'

Vander's eyes narrowed. 'Let me see the wound. Please, sir. Just to be sure.'

Galbatorix pulled his robe more tightly over his chest. 'Not now, Vander. I've got things to think about.'

'Sir, I really think-,'

'Leave me.'

Galbatorix's eyes and voice had gone cold, and Vander saw he wasn't going to get anywhere with him tonight.

'All right, sir,' he said. 'Goodnight.'

'Sleep well,' Galbatorix told him briefly. 'At dawn, we ride.'

Dawn.

Once Vander had left, Galbatorix sighed and looked up at the moon again. 'Please gods,' he breathed. 'Grant me this one last victory. Let me finish what I started. Let me complete it.'

From somewhere away in the night, the mournful howling of a pack of wolves echoed toward the stars, like a dirge. Galbatorix listened, wondering briefly if this was some reply from the gods of the dark elves. From somewhere buried in his memory, he heard the lazy, drawling voice of Faegareth, the shapeshifter. Do you know why the wolves howl, Great King? I do. They're calling out for something they lost.

You mean they're calling for the dead? his own, much younger voice asked.

Faegareth's voice had a smirk in it. No. They're calling for me. Only the bitches howl, you see.

Galbatorix smiled to himself. 'Did they ever find you again, Faegareth?' he murmured out loud.

But Faegareth was surely dead, his body lost out there in the snow so far away, mourned over by no-one, not even the wolves he had once run and hunted with. Even Menulis had had the funeral rites said for him, and his ashes had been given an honoured resting-place in Ilirea's catacombs, but what had the dark elves had? And Faegareth? Their ashes had been left in the snow and scattered to the wind as if they were no more than dirt. And when he himself died, his own remains would be buried without a marker or an effigy. He wanted that. What had he done to deserve a great tomb or a lavish funeral? He snarled silently to himself. What a savage irony it would be when he was laid to rest. The destroyer destroyed, the killer killed. No. He did not want to be honoured like that, and nor did he want anyone to know where he was buried. Plenty of people would hate him for what he had done, plenty of people still thought of him as no more than an insane murderer. If they knew where his tomb was, they would come and find it. They would spit on it, probably, or vandalise it. Probably they would dig up his remains and toss them into the sea or onto a rubbish heap. And even though by then there would be nothing left of him but anonymous ashes, the thought of that final indignity was unbearable. No. In death he would be allowed to rest in peace at last, and no-one would come to hurt him again. He promised himself that.

And tomorrow. Tomorrow it would be time to see Ilirea again, and this time he would not return to it alone. This time he would not be a fugitive. 'Tomorrow, it ends,' he said, to Shruikan. 'Tomorrow, Ilirea will burn, and so will everyone inside it.'

'Yes,' Shruikan growled. 'Tomorrow we will have our final revenge.'

'And after that… we can rest.'

'Yes. Forever.'

Galbatorix sighed and bowed his head, suddenly fighting back tears. It was so close now. So very close. He knew he would not sleep tonight.

The sun rose the next day in the midst of a watery pink sunset. Its light, shining over the camp, showed men, urgals and dragons already stirring.

The Forsworn were already preparing; they rid themselves of all their unnecessary luggage and began armouring their dragons and themselves, talking among themselves as they worked and going over the plan of attack they had finally settled on. Galbatorix, meanwhile, had long since armoured Shruikan and donned a light breastplate over his usual robe, and had gone to talk with Durza. The Shade would be leading the attack on the ground with Nar Kvarn, and the Ra'zac would be helping him.

Durza, sleepless as always, had put on some armour to protect his vulnerable chest and was carrying a sword taken from the armoury in Gil'ead. 'I am prepared,' he told Galbatorix, on seeing him. 'You seem… unsettled, Lord Galbatorix.'

'I'm fine, Durza. The others and I are about to leave. We'll fly slowly and keep the army in sight. As soon as Ilirea's close enough, we'll go on ahead and attack it. You'll help Strein and Tuomas lead the ground assault. Attack at the main gates. As soon as the wall's broken down, charge in as fast as you can. Get as much of the army inside as quickly as possible, and go straight for the towers. The main assault should be at the Elders' Tower, the largest one. Break in and kill everyone you find inside. Even if they surrender.'

'Yes, my Lord,' said Durza. 'I will not hold back.'

The two Lethrblaka were close by, with the young Ra'zac not far away. They were each about the size of a man, and equipped with a pair of massive leathery wings – hence their name, which meant, literally, "leather-flapper". Unlike the Ra'zac, the Lethrblaka were intelligent. Galbatorix addressed the female, she who had metamorphosed from the Ra'zac he had spared that day at Dras-Leona. 'Are you ready?' he asked.

The creature nodded its big beaked head. 'The ridersss ssshall feel our bite thiss day, my Lord.'

Galbatorix smiled grimly. 'Oh yes. I've no doubt they will. You and your mate will attack in the air. Circle around the edges of the city. If any of the riders try to escape, stop them. Go for the dragons' wings – take them down quickly. I don't want them to get away and remain a menace.'

'Yesss, my Lord,' said the other Lethrblaka, the male. 'The dragonsss ssshall be no challenge to usss.'

'We ssshall feassst on elf-flesssh today,' one of the Ra'zac added, its beak clicking greedily.

Galbatorix did not flinch at the foul stench that came from it. 'Yes, you shall. Today, there will be no mercy. In this battle, no-one will be spared. Everyone in that city will die.'

'There is no merit or wisdom in leaving your enemies alive,' said Durza. 'I see you have finally learned that lesson, my Lord.'

Galbatorix looked sharply at him. 'What do you mean by that, Durza?'

There was a strange, almost hungry look in the Shade's red eyes, but all he said was; 'I think you know, my Lord.'

Galbatorix glared at him for a few moments longer, and then turned on his heel and walked back to where the dragons waited, armoured, saddled and ready with their riders standing by.

'Ready to leave, sir,' said Tranah.

Galbatorix went to Shruikan's side, but then paused and went to Tranah instead. And, to her surprise, he put his arms around her and hugged her. 'Good luck, Tranah.'

'Good luck, sir,' said Tranah, returning the hug.

Galbatorix embraced each of the others in turn, and they too said their goodbyes and best wishes to each other, each one suddenly and coldly aware that they might not all survive the day. The dragons nuzzled at each other, growling and hissing softly. Even Shruikan joined in, his normal reserve disappearing in the solemnity of the moment.

Galbatorix sighed and climbed onto the black dragon's shoulders, securing himself in place. From there, he looked around at the others as they too mounted up. 'For justice,' he said, and braced himself as Shruikan took off.

Aedua, Leahdorus, Sartago, Calanon, Keth, Idün, Ithír, Talziri, Ymazu, Somerscales, Sytha and Abern rose into the sky with the power and inevitability of a sunrise, their armour shining in the pale light of dawn. Talziri and Ithír remained hovering over the breaking camp as the rest flew away, and both dragons roared to say farewell to their friends and spur them on toward Ilirea and what awaited there. The others roared back, some flaming at the sky. Below, the army prepared to resume its march. Already banners were being raised and orders shouted. Soon they would be moving again.

In the air, Galbatorix shivered and pulled his robe over his legs to try and shield them from the wind. He had forgotten how cold it could be this early in the morning. Luckily, Shruikan's hot scales helped keep him warm. 'Are you ready, Shruikan?'

'Yes. Are you?'

'I've been ready for two years. I've been ready ever since the day Vrael and I saw each other in the elder's cave and I told him I would be back for my revenge on him.'

'Do you think he'll be in the city, then?'

'He has to be,' Galbatorix said softly. 'He has to. I can't be cheated out of seeing him die. Not now.'

'You will,' said Shruikan. 'We both will.'

The black dragon put his head down and flew on a little faster. Ilirea loomed in the distance, white-walled and elegant, like a huge crown carved from ivory. They would be there soon. Very soon.

They flew on for an hour or so, keeping their pace slow so that they would not lose sight of the army. It marched on steadily, led by Tuomas and Strein on the ground, the Lethrblaka circling overhead like a pair of vultures.

Ilirea drew ever closer. By midday they could see it clearly. The dark shapes of dragons were circling among the towers – at least four of them. Very soon they would be close enough to be spotted. Now, at last, Galbatorix reached out mentally to the Forsworn in the air. 'Now.'

The dragons shot forward, bunched together in a tight flock with Shruikan at their head, his neck and tail stretched out flat like the shaft of an arrow. They flew straight for the city as fast as they could go, staying high to make themselves harder to see. The ground rushed past below, faster and faster, and then the outer walls of the city passed beneath the dragons' dangling talons. In the same instant, they heard a roar from below them.

'NOW!' Galbatorix bellowed.

Shruikan folded his wings and dropped out of the sky like a swallow. The others did the same, falling alongside him, head-downward, their riders clinging on for dear life. The white towers of Ilirea rushed up to meet them, like massive spikes ready to impale them. The plummeting dragons peeled away at the last moment, spreading out over the city, each one intent on a different target.

Shruikan, however, did not. He continued his descent without making even a token attempt to steady himself, his eyes staring straight ahead, intent on his goal. Below him, a brown dragon nearly twice his size glanced up and twisted in the air, seeking to get out of the way. Shruikan angled himself toward him with an easy flick of one wing and, an instant later, he slammed into the back of the other dragon's neck. The impact was so powerful that it sent shockwaves right through Shruikan's body and into Galbatorix, making his teeth rattle. He had already clenched them in anticipation, but his entire body jerked backward violently, sending a blast of pain through his spine. The brown dragon, however, was far worse off. He screamed and dropped out of the sky, wings flailing desperately. Shruikan managed to extricate himself and reeled away upwards, his head still pointed downward to belch black and silver fire at his enemy.

The brown dragon hit the nearest tower with a horrible crunch of metal on stone. One of his wings hit it at an awkward angle, breaking the bone, and he let out an unearthly screech of agony and dug his claws into the white stone of the tower, trying desperately to keep himself from falling. His talons cut into the tower as if it were made out of cheese, and he slid down its smooth side, thrashing desperately, tearing huge chunks out of it as he went. On his back, his rider recovered himself and began to hurl magic at Galbatorix. He shielded himself and Shruikan as well as he could, and then sent a wall of force back, as hard and fast as he could. It hit the brown dragon in the head and then struck his rider, and his talons lost their grip on the tower, sending him hurtling toward the ground.

Shruikan did not pause to watch the impact. He turned toward the largest of the towers, the Elders Tower, and made for it as fast as he could, while all around the battle began.

There were six enemy riders in the air over Ilirea, many of them riding very large dragons. Gern, Kaelyn, Lalla, Ana, Elric and Vander were already locked in combat with them – Sartago had latched onto the neck of a blue dragon while Kaelyn threw magic at its rider and Leahdorus tore at its wings with her talons, intent on disabling it. The elves who still remained in the city had set up siege weapons on the outer walls, and Orwyne, Vander and Ana were attacking these, their dragons turning gracefully in the sky to avoid the missiles lobbed their way.

Aedua, Keth and Idün saw Shruikan and flew to his side as fast as they could, and he led the way toward the Elders Tower, dodging the riders who tried to get in their way. The others rushed in to clear the way for them, and the three dragons flew on.

Galbatorix made mental contact with Roland, Morzan and Tranah. 'All right,' he told them. 'I can't see Saraswati or Yansan anywhere. They must still be in there. Stay close to me-,' and then, quite suddenly, he screamed.

Morzan, Roland and Tranah jerked in the saddle. Every single one of them cried out, and their dragons bucked in midair as Shruikan did.

In their heads, they could hear Galbatorix's mental voice. 'No! No! Not now! Please, gods, not-!'

And all the while, the pain stabbed at their chests, deep and mortal and horrible. The four dragons started to weave in the sky, their sense of direction thrown into confusion, but then the pain abruptly stopped.

The dragons regrouped, all gasping from the shock along with their riders. 'What in the hell?' said Morzan. 'What in the hell?'

He checked his chest, expecting to see an arrow poking out of it, but there was nothing there. There was no pain coming from Idün either.

Galbatorix's presence had vanished from his mind. He tried to contact him again, but found himself shut out. Bewildered, he tried to contact Tranah instead. She let him in, and he could feel her own confusion. 'Morzan? What happened? Are you all right?'

'Fine. Tran, what the hell's going on? Where did all that pain come from?'

'I don't know.'

Morzan shut off contact with her and reached out for Roland. 'Are you hurt?' the old rider asked.

'No, fine.'

'Oh dear gods,' said Roland. He shut off contact, and Keth surged forward.

They reached the entrance to the elders' cave almost simultaneously. Shruikan, apparently recovered from his sudden shock, rushed into the great space beyond, the sheer size of the opening making him look no bigger than a bat.

He landed on the floor just inside. Not gracefully. He was going too fast, and he hit the stone at an angle, front talons first. He nearly flipped over with the force of it, and skidded over the floor on his stomach, his claws scrabbling desperately for purchase. Keth, Idün and Aedua shot straight past him, ignoring his distress. They had something far more urgent to deal with: Saraswati and Yansan.

The two elders were both there, with their dragons, trying to strap on their saddles as fast as they could. Now, seeing the oncoming attackers, they abandoned what they were doing and rushed to defend themselves.

Morzan had prepared himself for this moment. In midair, he ripped off the leg-straps on his saddle and fell sideways off Idün's back. He cushioned his landing with a quick spell, recovered his balance, and rushed to attack Saraswati, drawing Zar'roc. She was ready for him. Forgetting magic, the yellow-haired woman freed her own blade and charged, screaming a battle-cry. 'Andlát skađa óvinr!'

They met with a deafening clash of metal, so hard that Morzan nearly lost hold of his sword. But he was highly skilled with a blade, and he knew how to use his size and weight to his advantage. He turned sideways, deflecting Saraswati's first blow with his armoured shoulder, and swung Zar'roc straight downward toward her neck. She ducked backwards to avoid the blow, and her yellow-bladed sword came in low, aimed at his stomach. It hit him and bounced off the breastplate he wore, and he shoved forward, hurling his full weight at her in a sudden rush that had served him well in the past. It worked this time; his shoulder hit her directly in the chest and she, taken by surprise, staggered backward, instinctively flinging out her sword-arm to catch herself. Morzan took advantage of it almost instantly. Zar'roc lashed out in a blur of red, flicking Saraswati's sword out of her hand, and Morzan laughed and came on, pulling the sword back for a deadly blow.

In the cave around him, Keth and Raluvimbha were struggling together, jaws snapping, while Roland fought Yansan, blasting his fellow human with gold fire. Tranah was helping Idün and Aedua deal with Vandana. Shruikan, on the other hand, had not moved. He was lying on his stomach by the entrance to the cave, trying feebly to get up, while on his back Galbatorix lay utterly still, slumped over his partner's neck as though dead.

Saraswati backed away from Morzan, avoiding Zar'roc with shocking speed. Her right hand rose, and Morzan's heart leapt into his mouth. 'Oh shit-,'

The force of the impact nearly knocked him out. Everything turned blinding yellow-white for a split second, and the next moment he was lying on the floor, pain spiking through his head. He heard a loud clang from somewhere to his left as Zar'roc struck the wall, but all other sound seemed to have shut off.

Another blast of force hit him, and this time he felt it pick him up and hurl him across the chamber. He smacked into something big and rough, and landed in a heap on the ground, feeling his bones crack inside him. The pain was so severe it made his vision go hazy, but he scrabbled desperately at the ground, trying to get up, driven by a survival instinct so powerful it overrode all else. The wall beside him suddenly moved, and he looked up and realised he had hit Shruikan. Galbatorix's white face hovered above him, hanging over the black dragon's neck.

'SIR!' Morzan screamed. 'Sir! Do it! Do it now!'

Galbatorix's eyes snapped open. His hands moved, and he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

Saraswati was running toward them, her right hand already haloed in yellow light. Somewhere away to her left, Roland was backing away under a flurry of blows from Yansan's sword. Aedua was down, biting desperately at Vandana's throat as the other dragon bore down on her, ignoring the blows from Tranah's sword. Raluvimbha had knocked Keth down and was rushing to help his friend.

And then… and then the brown dragon screamed. His legs folded under him and he fell to the ground, screeching and bellowing, his wings twitching. Saraswati's magic faded and she slammed her hand into her chest and fell backward, writhing in agony. 'NO!' she screamed. 'No!'

But the force of the mental attack continued to flow through her, and with it came pain – a pain so intense it threatened to kill her outright. Vandana collapsed too and, moments later, so did Yansan. Roland and Tranah overpowered the two elders in moments, able now to enter their minds and disable their magic. The two massive elder dragons were subdued only after a fierce struggle, but in the end they succumbed to paralysing spells and ended up lying on the floor of the elder's cave, utterly helpless.

Morzan, lying across Shruikan's talons, saw it all happen as if in a dream. Every part of him hurt, but he hardly noticed.

'Morzan?' He saw Idün coming toward him, trailing a torn wing, her golden eyes fixed on him. 'Morzan!'

He smiled dreamily. 'We won, Idün. We won…'

Roland and Tranah helped him up, and he revived sufficiently to cast a healing spell over himself. After that he felt a little better.

Galbatorix had managed to undo the straps on his saddle. He slid onto the floor, nearly collapsing, and paused to touch Shruikan's neck before he walked toward the place where Saraswati lay. For a moment he stood over her, breathing heavily, and then he moved on to Yansan. Once he had examined both of them, he returned to Shruikan and slumped down against his flank.

Morzan, Tranah and Roland came to his side at once.

'We did it!' Tranah said jubilantly. 'We did it! We bloody did it! We've got the bastards!'

Galbatorix looked up at her and grinned. 'So we did, Tranah. So we did.'

'I suppose Vrael isn't here,' said Tranah. 'But who cares? We've got the other two. Ilirea's ours. We should probably go help the others, but I think they're all right…'

She walked past Shruikan to look out over the city. Galbatorix got up to join her, Roland and Morzan following.

The four riders looked down at the view, and what they saw was unlike anything they had ever expected.

The army, under the leadership of Durza and Nar Kvarn, had broken through the walls and surged into the city like a wave rushing up a beach. Already they could see columns of smoke rising from several places, and the sound of screams, shouts and clashing weapons drifted up toward them. The rest of the Forsworn were all in the air, along with the Lethrblaka, but it was plain that they would not need help to win. Of the six riders who had been there to defend the city, four were now dead or unable to fight any longer. The remaining two were trying to flee, but one was being assaulted by the Lethrblaka and the other was being attacked by Orwyne, Kaelyn and Strein and went hurtling toward the ground even as they watched.

'My gods,' Morzan almost whispered. 'I don't believe it. We've done it. We've won. We've… WON!' the last word was a shout, and the bulky rider raised both fists over his head and started to whoop and cheer, his voice carrying out over the city. Behind him, Idün roared. The red dragon came forward to stand beside her rider, and roared again and again. Aedua joined her, and Keth, and Shruikan picked himself up off the floor and added his voice to theirs.

Standing between Morzan and Roland, Galbatorix let a smile slowly spread over his face. It was over. He had done it.

Out in the city, the last one of the riders had finally been killed. The rest of the Forsworn, hearing the roars coming from the elder's cave, turned and flew toward it, leaving the army below to complete the massacre of Ilirea's citizens. They would not need help.

One by one they flew in through the entrance – Sartago, Ithír, Leahdorus, Ymazu, Talziri, Calanon, Somerscales, Abern and Sytha, all alive and complete. Strangely, without any prompting at all, they arranged themselves into a circle once they had landed, their riders dismounting and going to stand in front of them, exactly as the elders had once done. Morzan, Tranah, Roland and their dragons went to join them, leaving Galbatorix and Shruikan alone.

The two of them went to stand at the centre of the circle, moving slowly and ignoring the paralysed Yansan and Saraswati. Galbatorix, walking by Shruikan's side, looked around at the riders who surrounded him, and a flash of memory suddenly struck into his brain and he was back in the past, standing in this very chamber, the accusing eyes of the elders boring into him, his heart tearing itself apart inside his chest. His step faltered, and he let out a soft, hoarse sob.

'No,' Shruikan's voice interrupted. 'Be still. I'm here.'

Galbatorix looked up, and they looked back, and knelt to him, bowing their heads.

'Lord Galbatorix,' they murmured in unison.

Galbatorix's fear left him. He looked around at them, his throat aching with sadness.

'We did it,' he said softly. 'We did it.'

They rose to their feet.

'Yes, sir,' said Roland, his old face creasing into a smile. 'We did it. Just as you said we would. Ilirea is ours, the elders are defeated, and Alagaësia is free. You have done what no-one else could do. You have achieved the impossible. You have led us to the most glorious victory of our lives, and for that, we thank you.'

Galbatorix bowed his head. 'I couldn't… couldn't have done it without you,' he said, and through his voice was low the chamber's walls caught it and magnified it, letting everyone hear it. He took in a deep breath and raised his head. 'We have done the impossible,' he said, his voice taking on the power and command it had had before, when so much was different. 'We have won the war,' he said. 'The elders have lost. We have defeated a power no-one else could ever defeat – neither man nor elf nor dragon, urgal, Shade or dwarf. The tyranny of the elves is over forever, and now a new time is beginning. A better time, when no race shall rule over the others and all races shall be equal.' He paused, his face suddenly contorting. 'We shall – we shall… we shall give the people back their power. New riders will arise – riders you will train. Riders who know the truth. And from… from hereon, there shall be a new leader, to guide and protect Alagaësia. Vrael is gone, and a new ruler shall arise. I don't… don't know…' he was baring his teeth now, his hands clenching into fists. 'I don't know who that leader will be,' he said, his voice weakening. 'But you'll… find… find them, you will, I tr- I trust – trust… trust you to do that.'

'We already have, my Lord,' said Tranah.

Roland nodded. 'Aye. That leader is you, Lord Galbatorix, Master of the Riders.'

The others roared their approval, pointing their swords at the ceiling.

'Lord Galbatorix!' they shouted as one. 'Lord Galbatorix, Master of Riders, Master of Alagaësia!'

Galbatorix looked away from them. 'No,' he said quietly. 'I cannot.'

'No, my Lord,' said Roland. 'This is not your choice to make. You cannot hide from this; it is your destiny and your due by right of conquest. You are our new leader. The Three Peaks have chosen and anointed you.'

'Bugger the three peaks,' Morzan snapped. 'We've chosen you, my Lord. You won the war, you stopped the elders, you're our master now, an' you'll make everything better, just like you promised you would.'

'I cannot,' Galbatorix said again. 'I am sorry.'

'No, sir,' said Vander. 'There is no choice in this. It's your duty. Your way. The right way.'

Galbatorix took in a deep, shaky breath. 'You must understand,' he said. 'I would… I would be your master. I don't… I don't want to rule here. I never… never wanted to rule. But I wouldn't… wouldn't abandon you, I swear, if I had a choice, but I don't. There is nothing I can do for you any more. I've done all I… all I can for you. I did my best, I did, but that's… this is it, all I can do. From now… you must carry on alone.'

'But why, sir?' said Morzan. 'You ain't leaving, are you? You aren't going to leave us? Please, sir, don't talk like this, it's not right, it's not-,'

'Morzan,' Galbatorix almost whispered. 'I'm sorry. I truly am.'

'But if you're sorry, then why are you doing this?' said Morzan.

Galbatorix fixed him with a stare that seemed to be coming from the other side of some dark veil. 'I'm dying, Morzan,' he said softly.