Eragon's head was aching. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was blackness. He couldn't see anything. He reached out with his mind for Saphira, but he couldn't feel her. What had happened? Where was he? Why was he there?
With difficulty, he managed to open his eyes. He was in a small, cold, stone room. He knew he hadn't ever been here before. There were a few torches on the wall that provided him with enough light to see Roran lying motionless on the ground next to him. He reached out with his mind to touch his cousin, but felt nothing, just as he had with Saphira.
Were they both dead?
No, that was impossible. Roran was clearly still breathing; Eragon could tell by the way his chest moved up and down. He checked for a pulse anyway and let out a sigh of relief when he found proof that his cousin was alive. If Roran was still living even though he couldn't feel him, then Saphira must be too. Something was blocking his magic.
All of their weapons had been taken from them.
Eragon winced as his muscles ached in pain when he tried to stand up. He found himself toppling to the ground again and groaned in agony. Whoever had done this to him was even more powerful than Durza. He collapsed against the wall. There was nothing he could do to get out if he couldn't work magic. He tried several times to blast the door open, but that didn't work. He sighed. All he could do was wait for Roran to wake up or for somebody else to come and let them out.
It seemed like hours before Roran stirred. He let out a moan and his eyes fluttered open. He looked around in panic before his eyes fell on Eragon, slumped in a corner. "What's going on?" he demanded.
Eragon shrugged. "I haven't a clue," he answered. "I can't remember a thing."
Roran groaned in despair. "I remember one thing, Katrina."
Katrina.
The name started a chain reaction in Eragon's head. Memories came flooding back to him. Asking Nasuada to leave, Arya's strange behavior, their stay in Cithrí, arriving at Helgrind, killing the lethrblaka, Galbatorix and Murtagh… Galbatorix and Murtagh … Galbatorix had done this to him. Galbatorix had inflicted this terrible pain upon him. Galbatorix was blocking his magic. Galbatorix had captured him and Roran, Saphira too … and Murtagh had helped him.
As if on cue, the door to their cell opened to reveal Murtagh. Eragon's eyes fell on Zar'roc, Morzan's sword that Brom had given Eragon and Murtagh had stolen from Eragon. Then they fell on Murtagh's emotionless face. Eragon's eyes narrowed into a threatening glare. "You…" he whispered angrily.
Murtagh met his gaze and shut the door behind him. "Eragon," he said quietly. "Roran."
Roran growled and lunged at Murtagh despite the after effects of Galbatorix's spell. He howled in pain as Murtagh effortlessly deflected him with magic, sending him flying into the stone wall behind him. Roran yelped in anguish as the rugged stone cut into his back.
Eragon had to restrain himself from lunging at Murtagh too. It was not wise for Roran to attack someone as powerful as Murtagh, especially after Galbatorix had done so much to weaken and afflict them.
"Murtagh," Eragon breathed with his hate heavily in his voice. "What is going on?"
Murtagh looked at Eragon. "You are in Urû'baen, Eragon my brother. King Galbatorix and I ambushed and captured you at Helgrind," he paused and his voice faltered. "You are going to be forced into Galbatorix's service."
"How could you do this to me, Murtagh?" Eragon growled. "You're a good person, don't do this!"
"I didn't have a choice, Eragon!" Murtagh shouted. "How many times do I have to explain my position to you? Galbatorix knows our real names. We cannot disobey him now."
"What is this 'we' you speak of?" Eragon asked bitterly. "We no longer share a friendship."
Murtagh sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought that after training with the elves you wouldn't remain so ignorant, Eragon! I don't want this for you! I don't want this for anyone! I don't have a choice! You are my brother, Eragon!"
Eragon averted his eyes, unable to bear looking at Murtagh any longer. In his heart, he knew that Murtagh's words were true, but he didn't want to believe them.
Roran moved next to him. He seemed to have recovered from Murtagh's magic. "Katrina…" he breathed. She was all he could think about. "Where's Katrina?"
Murtagh's gaze fell on Roran for now. "She's here. Galbatorix took her away from the Ra'zac," Murtagh explained. "He plans to give her to you."
"At what price?" Roran demanded. "Galbatorix was the one who took her away form me in the first place."
Murtagh was silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell Roran that he had to obey Galbatorix willingly. He sighed. "I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news," he told them sadly.
"Isn't it a little late for that?" Roran spat.
Murtagh ignored him and turned back to Eragon, who was sulking in the corner. "Be wise, Eragon," he advised him. "I do not want to see my brother murdered for no reason." Then he turned and left, leaving Roran and Eragon alone.
For a few moments, neither one of them spoke. Then Eragon broke the silence. "He's just so different than he was before Tronjheim," he said sadly. "That Murtagh was more of a brother to me than this one. Before he was kidnapped, he was willing to do anything to avoid his father and Galbatorix. Now all he wants is for us to succumb to the evil king."
Roran sighed and went to sit next to Eragon. "What does he mean by 'our real names'?" he asked.
"Everyone has a name in the ancient language," Eragon explained. "If someone knows your real name, they can make you do anything. You cannot disobey them."
Roran raised an eyebrow. "So then what Murtagh's saying is right even if he is traitorous slime. He didn't have a choice."
Eragon sighed. "I just don't want to believe it," he said, shaking his head. "I've spent all this time working against Galbatorix and now I'll be forced to work for him. It's unbelievable."
There was a moment of silence before Roran spoke again. "I'll do anything to save Katrina, though," he vowed. "I got her into this. I could have just turned myself in and avoided all this trouble."
"If you had turned yourself in, the Varden would be dead," Eragon pointed out. "They needed you to kill the Twins. If that hadn't happened, Galbatorix would have won."
"Perhaps," admitted Roran. "But I won't abandon Katrina. No matter how far Galbatorix pushes me, I won't give up until I have her in my arms and then I'll slay Galbatorix and end this bloody war."
"That's very noble of you," said Eragon after another pause. "But sometimes we must do what is requested of us. Killing Galbatorix won't end this war. Things are rarely that simple. Besides, you are not strong enough to kill Galbatorix."
"What are you suggesting?" Roran asked.
"I won't say now," Eragon replied. "I cannot be sure we are safe from eavesdroppers. There are magicians somewhere blocking my magic."
"But you'll tell me later?" Roran said hopefully.
"Aye," Eragon agreed. "I'll tell you later."
The two sat in silence for what seemed like hours before two guards came to fetch them. The men were dressed in scarlet tunics bearing Galbatorix's crest. Without any words, they came in and grabbed Eragon and Roran roughly, bound their hands and led them out of the cell. Eragon allowed himself to be led out, but Roran wouldn't do anything without a fight. Eragon shot him an angry look and Roran fell into line.
The guards led them down cold, stone corridor after cold, stone corridor. Eragon tried to remember which turns they took, but soon gave up. His mind wasn't up to it. He still felt sluggish and achy due to the side effects of Galbatorix's spell. It must have been very powerful; Eragon wouldn't have minded learning that one.
Finally, the cold, stone corridors opened up in a monstrous marble throne room. What must have been hundreds of torches on the walls lit the vast room. But Eragon's eyes didn't fall on the beautiful tiled floor or the frescoes on the ceiling, but on the three people at the other end of the hall: Galbatorix, Murtagh and Katrina.
Katrina's expression turned from terror to worry as she saw them bring Roran in. He had obviously been mistreated in some way. Her beloved's hands were bound and she could tell by the way he walked that he wasn't doing well. He was slow and limping and the back of his shirt had been torn to reveal scratches and bruises from when Murtagh sent him into the wall.
Roran returned Katrina's worried gaze. She was deathly pale and looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks. The fact that Galbatorix had dressed her in nice clothes only irked Roran more. It didn't matter; in a few moments, she would be in his arms again.
Murtagh stood at Galbatorix's right hand and watched the scene objectively, looking strangely aloof. He wore clothes almost as nice as Galbatorix himself and Zar'roc was fastened tightly to his belt. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Eragon thought he saw a hint of pity in his impassive eyes.
Galbatorix looked like a god. He was dressed in a silk scarlet tunic trimmed with gold and nice black breeches and boots. A golden and jeweled crown sat on his head and he sat on a gilded throne. He had a black sword on his belt and wore a smug, triumphant grin as he took in Eragon and Roran.
"So this is the great Eragon Shadeslayer?" Galbatorix laughed as the guards brought Eragon and Roran in front of him. "Kneel before your king!" Eragon winced as he felt his legs bend beneath him and he was forced to kneel before Galbatorix. "I must say, I expected you to put up a better fight," Galbatorix taunted them. "I was looking forward to the challenge. Tell me, boy, did the elves teach you to run from your enemies? Answer me!"
"No," Eragon blurted out.
Galbatorix laughed again. "I can tell you are afraid, Shadeslayer, and rightfully so. You have seen my power. I have brought the great Eragon Shadeslayer to kneel before me in chains. I am the ultimate power in Alagaësia!" Eragon bowed his head, not wanting to be tempted into saying something he'd regret later. Instead, he let Galbatorix continue, "It is useless to resist, Eragon." Galbatorix extended a hand to Murtagh. "Your brother once thought he was strong enough to defy me as well. We can all see that he was wrong."
Murtagh lowered his head in shame.
"I am not my brother," Eragon said boldly. "I am not my father either."
"So you have accepted the truth, then?" Galbatorix asked. "Murtagh told me how you denied it. He told me how you begged him to let you go because you were so distraught." Murtagh was shocked. Just two days ago he'd said the same thing to Galbatorix and had been flown across the room!
"I have accepted the truth that my father's identity does not decide my fate," Eragon answered him nobly.
Galbatorix laughed. "Oh, but is does, young Morzansson. Your father's blood runs through your veins. You have the same weaknesses, the same flaws, the same desires. His fate shall be the same as yours."
Eragon tried to appear uninfluenced by Galbatorix's statements. Hastily, he tried changing the subject. "Where is Saphira?" he asked.
"Sedated in the dragon stables," Galbatorix answered. "Don't worry. She will be as easy to control as you."
Eragon forced a laugh. "You will find that holding us is dangerous," he said.
Galbatorix smiled. "Are you still dangerous with your magic subdued?" he asked. "You are no more of a threat to me than a fly is to a dragon. I will let you go for now, Shadeslayer, but tomorrow is the dawn of a new era," he anounced. "Guards! Take Eragon here to his new quarters. There he is to clean himself up and ready himself for his new role as my servant."
With a laugh from Galbatorix, the guards seized Eragon and dragged him out of the room.
Galbatorix's dark eyes fell on Roran now. "Roran Stronghammer," his lips curled into a sly smile. "Is that what they're calling you now?"
"Aye," Roran answered.
"Well then, Roran," Galbatorix said with an especially mischievous gleam in his eye. "I have a special surprise for you. Midori! You may go and get it now."