A/N Yes, I will answer that question now before it even gets asked. Kylrese is modeled after French, the language that I'm taking in high school. I figure this might help me a little. No, I don't own it and I never will.

Chapter Eight: Plotting Little Sneaks

Circe left soon after that, but not before Eragon told her about his adventures with Saphira. A few moments after she left, Roran came in and sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't waste any time.

"I want to know what you're planning," he demanded. "You need to tell me if you want my help."

Eragon sighed. "Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya," he said. Let us be warded from listeners. Then, he looked at Roran. His cousin looked better than he had in a long time, or at least better than Eragon had seen him in a long time. But who wouldn't after being reunited with their fiancée and having a dragon egg hatch for them?

Roran looked around the room, puzzled by Eragon's words in the ancient language. Then he returned his eyes to Eragon. "Anytime you're ready."

"It's very simple," Eragon started. "But the key requires a great deal of will power. We are not, under any circumstances, to attempt to escape or to harm Galbatorix in any way, at least not yet. However, it is essential to resist his authority as much as possible so he doesn't suspect anything. He expects us to rebel against him. If we don't he'll know we're planning something."

Roran thought it over for a few moments. "Between Galbatorix and those Kylrian witches how are we supposed to keep ourselves from being found out?"

"I'll have to teach you how to shield your mind from enemies," Eragon answered. "With practice you should be able to keep yourself out of trouble."

Roran nodded. "But what else then? We can't spend the rest of our lives here. You must have something else planned."

"I do," Eragon replied. "Eventually, Galbatorix is going to send us off to fight against the Varden. I don't think he will go himself. We will go, we will fight, but not for him. That is when we strike. We must ensure the Varden's victory by cutting down as many Imperial troops as possible. When the battle is over, we never again return to Urû'baen."

Before Roran could say anything else, the door to the room opened and Murtagh stepped in. Eragon glared at him. If looks could kill, Murtagh would be dead. There was an uncomfortable silence before Murtagh finally spoke. "Circe told me she fixed your shoulder."

Eragon snarled, "She wouldn't have had to if you hadn't broken it."

Murtagh responded by repeating the line he'd been saying to Eragon since they'd met on the Burning Plains. He answered calmly, "I had no choice."

Eragon nearly jumped out of bed and strangled him. "How can you keep saying that?" he demanded. "I'm lucky there was a good healer around!"

"You heard Galbatorix," Murtagh said, becoming more irate and impatient with his little brother. "You know I've had to swear fealty to him in the ancient language. I cannot disobey him. You heard him tell me not to hold back!"

Eragon lowered his gaze. "Sorry," he muttered.

Murtagh came further into the room. "What's going on?" he asked. "You two look rather suspicious."

"Can we trust him?" Roran whispered to Eragon. "He could be a powerful ally."

Murtagh's mind was closed, making it impossible for Eragon to find his real motives. "Can we trust you," he asked. "Answer in the ancient language."

"Yes," Murtagh answered in the ancient language. "Galbatorix is my enemy just as he is yours. When I met you on the Burning Plains, I was only following orders that I am bound by magic to obey."

"He speaks the truth," Eragon said to Roran.

"Then let him in on the plan," Roran replied.

"Plan?" Murtagh said with a small chuckle. "I should have known you were planning something from the very moment you were brought in here."

Eragon glared at Roran. "I'm not sure that's wise-"

"Eragon's planning to desert when Galbatorix sends us to battle," Roran blurted out.

Murtagh raised his eyebrows. "Run away during battle?" he asked with a small grin. "That might be difficult to pull off."

Eragon shot one last glance at Roran before moving his gaze to Murtagh. He sighed, realizing that Roran had been right. Murtagh had been in Urû'baen much longer than them and knew the inner most secrets of the Empire. They would probably need his help. He explained the rest of the plan to Murtagh.

"So will you help us?" he asked him.

Murtagh walked around the room slowly at first, contemplating Eragon's words. "I have already said that Galbatorix is no friend of mine. I have been here for a much longer time than you and have always wanted to escape. But I never thought of deserting the army in battle and running away to Ellesméra and Duweldenvarden. You might just have a brilliant idea there."

"So you'll help us?" Eragon asked hopefully.

Murtagh nodded. "But I'm afraid that won't be enough. Galbatorix will come looking for us because he'll know we've run away. We'll need an expert magician to feed him images of our deaths from afar, one that hates Galbatorix as much as us."

"Do you know anyone like that?"

Murtagh nodded his head again. "I do actually," he said and walked out the door.

Roran left soon after him. "I'm going to talk to Katrina," he said.

It's a well conceived plan, said Saphira. Murtagh should be a great help.

Eragon agreed. I just hope this sorcerer he speaks of is will be as loyal as he hopes.

"Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya," Murtagh said as he sat on the floor of his rooms with Circe. They were in the middle of one of the Kylrese lessons. She looked a little puzzled as to the reason why Murtagh had used the ancient language, one that she did not understand, but didn't say anything more. She continued with her teaching. It was her first lesson with Murtagh; actually it was the first lesson she had ever given at Galbatorix's palace. She didn't start with Roran and Eragon until the next day.

She started by teaching him the subject pronouns: je for I, tu for a singular and informal you, il for he, elle for she, on for one, nous for we, vous for the plural or formal you, ils for a masculine they and elles for a feminine they. Then she talked about être, the verb 'to be' that had an irregular conjugation: je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, on est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont and elles sont. Then, they moved on so some easier, regular verbs.

"Détester is a regular verb that means to hate," she explained. "It's pretty easy to conjugate: je déteste, tu détestes, il déteste, elle déteste, on déteste, nous détestons, vous détestez, ils détestent et elles détestent."

"So would I be correct in saying," Murtagh asked, "'Je déteste Galbatorix'?"

"Oui," she replied, using the Kylrese word for 'yes'. "If you really do hate Galbatorix."

"Oui," Murtagh answered, catching on quickly and trying to steer the topic of conversation toward hating Galbatorix. "Je déteste Galbatorix beaucoup. Tu déteste Galbatorix aussi?" I hate Galbatorix very much. Do you hate Galbatorix also?

"Oui, je déteste Galbatorix aussi. Pourquoi? Why?"

"Can I trust you not to turn me in to Galbatorix?"

"Oui, of course," she answered.

"Eragon, Roran and I are planning to escape," he told her. Even though he hadn't known her long, Murtagh felt a special connection with Circe, like he could trust her with his life. He felt like they shared this special bond forged by anger towards Galbatorix. He had used both of their fathers, had he not?

Circe gasped. "Escape? When, where and how?"

"When he sends us into battle," Murtagh explained. "We're not coming back."

"But he will know," she said. "He will know and send legions after you to bring you back."

"I know and that's why we need you."

Her eyes widened in shock for a second before changing to express curiosity. "Need me?" she asked. "What do you need me for?"

"There is no doubt that Galbatorix will be watching the battle from here. He will see us desert the army and send legions to bring us back as you have already said. If we had a superb sorcerer, like you, they could send him fake images of our deaths and then we would be free."

"You are willing to fake your own death to escape the Rider King?" she asked in amazement. "Tu déteste Galbatorix à la foile! Till you're crazy!"

"Will you help me or not?"

"Je ne sais pas; I don't know," she answered, obviously thinking about it in her mind. "My father would be devastated. I would have to fake my own death too. The only reason my father serves Galbatorix is to protect me. He loves me so much. It might kill him."

"If what you told Eragon before is true, then your father would die anyway. I doubt Galbatorix would keep a sickly old creature with no magic left around for very long. I've seen the way Galbatorix looks at you. I know what your father hopes to protect you from by serving him. Soon, there will be nothing to stop him if you stay here. There is nothing good for you left here."

"How do you know what I told Eragon earlier?" she asked in an accusing tone.

Murtagh lowered his gaze temporarily. "That's not important."

"You spied on me!" she accused and raised her voice. "Murtagh, I can't believe you spied on me!"

"I didn't know what to make of you," Murtagh tried to explain. "You were new. You'd managed to live in this castle for ages without my knowing. You're a species that I've never even heard of. Can't you forgive a mere human's curiosity?"

Circe stood up. "I will meditate on this Murtagh. My mind is not made up yet. Lessons will resume tomorrow. I suggest you take some time to sort through your thoughts and get your priorities back in order."

Murtagh stood up too. "Fine," he agreed. "But before you make up your mind, think about this: your father is not the only one who cares about you," he said and walked out of the room without waiting for her to reply.

He was frustrated as he climbed the stairs to Eragon's room. Circe would have to be watched now. She knew of their plan to desert and betray the Empire. If she told Galbatorix he would give them all orders to return back after the battles were over and they would all have to obey, well all of them except for Eragon.

But Murtagh had a funny feeling in the pit of stomach. He didn't believe Circe would turn them over to Galbatorix because she hated him so very much because of what he was doing to her father. He'd probably just caught her off guard and she was shocked and maybe a little annoyed with him.

Still, now that she knew of their plan, she would have to either join them or die.