"She said no?" Eragon demanded of Murtagh in shock.
"No, not exactly," Murtagh corrected him quietly. "She said she didn't know."
Eragon nearly screamed with frustration and would have if Saphira had helped to calm him down. Murtagh had promised them that the sorceress he had in mind would definitely agree to help him. The problem was that that sorceress was Circe and she said she didn't know what she would do. Eragon was sure that his brother knew the risks he was taking, but he'd gone and done it anyway. Circe could turn them over to Galbatorix at any moment and they could be executed for treason!
Eragon shook his head in dismay as Roran and Katrina came into the room. Roran concluded from one look what had happened.
"She said no, didn't she?" he asked grimly.
Eragon nodded, but Murtagh corrected him with indignation, "She said she didn't know."
"You do know, Murtagh, what this means?" Eragon asked in frustration. "You do realize the danger we're all in now, don't you?"
Murtagh stood up and looked down on his little brother. "Need I remind you that I am the elder son of Morzan, not you, Eragon. Do not talk down to me like that or I might decide to turn you over to Galbatorix. Of course I knew of the risks. Of course I know what this means. But I will have you know that I myself have been watching Circe. Whether it is by scrying or spying, I have kept my eye on her. She has not betrayed us, and I do not believe that she will."
Eragon, Roran and Katrina were a bit surprised by Murtagh's words.
"You've been spying on her?" Eragon gasped. "Are you sure that is wise? She must know you've been watching her. She is a highly skilled sorceress you know. How do we know she isn't sending you false images, just like we planned to do with Galbatorix when we desert the army?"
Murtagh didn't answer right away. He lowered his gaze and sat back down between Roran and Eragon. "I trust her," he answered finally. "She doesn't have anything to gain by turning us over. I think she will agree to help us eventually. She has much to gain by that, and little to lose."
The group sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Roran broke the uncomfortable lack of conversation with some better news: "Katrina has agreed to come with us," he said with a smile.
Eragon looked to Katrina and she nodded. "I will do what I can to help you," she assured them. "It may not be much, but I'll do what I can."
Eragon nodded approvingly. "Saphira tells me that Garrow is coming along nicely," he said.
Roran nodded. "Now I understand why you were so fascinated with Saphira that you ran away with her and left my father to die," he told him. "They're magnificent creatures, dragons are. Garrow can't speak yet and he's only a bit bigger than a common steed, but he's marvelous."
"Aye," agreed Murtagh. "But only when they're not working for evil."
Eragon nodded in agreement with his brother. "I cannot stress enough the importance of keeping Garrow away from Shruikan. Even though he's only bewitched to obey Galbatorix, he is still a bad influence on him. Even Thorn should be watched."
Murtagh rose indignantly again. "What do you mean to say by that? Comparing my Thorn to that Shruikan! I may have never heard something so absurd!"
Eragon tried to explain without infuriating Murtagh any more. "I just meant that, whether you meant to or not, Thorn was influenced by Shruikan and…"
"And what?" Murtagh demanded. "That some of his 'badness' will wear of on Garrow? I will have you know that Shruikan did not influence Thorn. The two barely ever came in contact. It was only recently that Shruikan was even allowed in the dragon stables with him. I taught Thorn much like you taught Saphira. He has no disease or whatever you think is wrong with him."
Eragon sighed. He had been made wise beyond his years at the Agaetí Blödhren in Ellesméra and now felt like he was the older brother dealing with his belligerent, younger brother Murtagh. But that was not the case. Whether he knew it or not, Murtagh had been influenced by Galbatorix. Eragon saw it especially at times like this, when everyone didn't agree with him. Maybe it was a family trait, something he'd inherited from Morzan, but either way, Galbatorix had exploited it in Murtagh while the elves had squished it out of Eragon.
When Eragon didn't reply to Murtagh, the older son of Morzan stormed out of the room in rage. He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the cold stone corridors, passing countless servants without giving them as much as a second glance.
Thorn was nagging at his mind. The girl's here. She seems upset.
Circe? Murtagh asked. One of the ways he was keeping an eye on her was through Thorn. What in the blazes is she doing down there? Murtagh didn't wait for an answer from his dragon friend. Immediately, he set off toward the dragon stables.
Immediately after Murtagh left, Eragon and Roran received a summons from Galbatorix's throne room. Now, the two of them stood in the center of Galbatorix's throne room, in front of the Rider King in all his evil glory.
Neither Suníl nor Circe was there, but two other servants took their places at Galbatorix's left hand. Murtagh's place at his right was empty, but the servants on the left each held a red velvet pillow with a sheathed sword balanced in the middle.
Galbatorix rose from his throne and drew his sword from its sheath. It looked almost exactly like Zar'roc, with a few variations. However, its blade and hilt were not the blood red of Zar'roc, but a deep, solid black, the same shade as Shruikan's scales. He examined it briefly before turning his attention to the two young Riders standing in front of him.
"Ever since the elves' wars with the dragons many, many years ago, the Dragon Riders have been guardians of peace and justice in Alagaësia," he declared, raising his ebony sword high above his head. "For all those long years, the Riders have borne these traditional elven swords, symbols of their everlasting legacy across the Realm."
Now he paused in order to be dramatic. "Unfortunately, the elves have turned their allegiance against the Empire and locked themselves away in Du Weldenvarden, a forest too vast and magical for any sane man to enter alone. Therefore, my mages and craftsmen have been unable to unlock the deepest secrets of these ancient elven blades and have only created mere imitations of these great weapons, but I, the Rider King Galbatorix of Alagaësia, present them to you now."
On Galbatorix's command, the two servants came forward and presented the two swords to Eragon and Roran. Cautiously, Eragon took his and examined it.
It was indeed the same type of blade as Zar'roc complete with colored blade and magical gems in the hilt. Just as Zar'roc's blade was red to match Morzan's dragon, this one was a deep sapphire blue, the same shade as Saphira's gleaming scales. Its hilt was adorned with brilliant sapphires that Riders could use to store excess energy and draw upon it when they needed it later.
Roran's was also well made. His blade matched Garrow's green scales, and the hilt shone with the brilliance of emeralds. Eragon's cousin examined the sword with awe and respect, but Eragon knew he really just wanted the hammer than had given him his last name back.
Eragon raised his head and locked his eyes with Galbatorix.
"I hope you do not think this will buy my allegiance," he said. "I cannot break my oath to Lady Nasuada."
Galbatorix glared back at him. "You would do well to know that my best mages are looking into breaking your pathetic little oath," he sneered. "You may find that Kylrese is more powerful than the ancient language that has dominated magic since the beginning of time."
"You can be sure that I certainly will not send you to fight until you have sworn your allegiance to me," Galbatorix's words sent chills down Eragon and Roran's spines. He either knew what they were planning or was smarter than they thought and had thought of it on his own. "Oh, yes," Galbatorix answered, seeing the shocked looks on their faces. "The fighting is coming, and swifter than you both think."
"My intelligence tells me that the elves are marching for Gil'ead and Isenstar Lake," Galbatorix informed them. "Murtagh and Roran will meet them there in a week or so with legions of my best troops. Eragon will go too if that incompetent Suníl can find a way around elven magic."
Eragon's thoughts were racing. This was coming too soon, he thought frantically. They hadn't gotten a definite answer from Circe yet and Galbatorix was planning on not sending him if he was still bound by Nasuada's oath. That had to be taken care of before anyone went anywhere.
Circe was down in the stables, all right, but not in the dragon stables where he thought she would be from Thorn's message. She was in the next set of stalls over from the dragon stables, stroking her father's black steed. A dark, black velvet cloak was wrapped over her shoulders, her hood was pulled over her dark hair and Murtagh saw her body shaking underneath it. He could hear her sniffing and crying from the doorway.
The young Kylrian witch gave no indication that she knew Murtagh was there, and Morzan's son hung back for a few minutes, watching her. This did not look like a girl that would betray them to Galbatorix.
After a few more moments, Murtagh moved towards her and rested his hand on her shaking shoulder. She didn't jump in surprise like he expected her to. In fact, she didn't even turn to look at him. Murtagh should have known she could tell he was there through her magic.
As her sobs seemed to calm down and become quieter, he leaned in to ask her a question, "What's wrong?" Murtagh hoped his voice sounded as tender and caring as he had intended it to.
She immediately erupted into tears again and Murtagh looked up in shock. Was it something he said? Why did 'what's wrong' make her start to sob again? He sighed in confusion and patted her back as he tried to be comforting.
Finally, after it seemed like she had calmed down again, she felt strong enough to answer his question. "I assume you know from your spying," she began, "that Galbatorix can drain the strength of any mage, that as his strength waxes, my father's wanes."
Murtagh nodded silently, wishing she would continue. "Then you would also know that Kylrians depend on their magic to stay alive?" she asked and Murtagh nodded again.
"What has happened?" he asked.
"Galbatorix is angry," she said grimly, her voice still shaking. "He's furious that my father has not yet found a way around Eragon's oath to Nasuada. He claims that if he had more power that he could do it himself…"
Murtagh was slowly beginning to piece together the parts of Circe's puzzle as tears fell from her violet eyes and landed on the straw covered stone floor. "My father is dying, Murtagh," she said, looking up at the Rider for the first time since he came down to talk with her. Sadness overwhelmed her tearstained face.
Murtagh lowered his head in respect for Suníl. "How can you be sure? How can Galbatorix have sapped him of so much magic so quickly?"
"The Rider King is much more powerful than even you know," she answered. "My father has little life left in him. He is weak and can barely walk. His skin is as white as the moon and his eyes have gone back to their native red. He has lost his vital ability to change his shape," the tears were coming back now. "He has little time left," she managed to say.
Murtagh wrapped his arms around her consolingly and the young mage leaned her head on his chest in grief. Murtagh let her cry for a little while longer before breaking away from their embrace and wiping her tears.
"We have to get you out of here," he whispered, standing up and taking her hand. "Now there's nothing to stop Galbatorix from having his way with you."
Circe drew her hand back and stared at him defiantly. "Please, Murtagh," she said quietly. "You have to understand that I will not leave my father to die alone. Let me stay by his side until his spirit departs from this tangible realm. Then I will join your rebellion."
Eragon sat in his room, twiddling his thumbs and discussing their plans with Roran and Katrina when Murtagh came into the room with Circe right behind him. Eragon raised his eyebrows and gave Murtagh a perplexed look.
"Something terrible has happened, but, like all suffering, it has brought about fortunate events," Murtagh anounced.
Everyone in the room turned to look at Circe, but quickly averted her eyes.
"My father is dying," she said quietly. "Now there is nothing left to stop Galbatorix from harming me, and I have decided to leave this place with you."
"I told you so," Murtagh harried Eragon. "I told you she would join us."
"As good as it may be to be graced with your blessing," Eragon said to Circe. "Another issue has risen."
"Galbatorix refuses to send Eragon away until his oath to Nasuada has been broken," Roran explained.
Murtagh sighed in frustration and began pacing around the room thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he stopped and looked at Circe. "You said he's counting on you and your father to crack this code?" he asked.
Circe nodded. Murtagh continued, "Could you feed him false information? Make him think that Eragon has sworn allegiance to him?"
Circe hesitated. "It would be difficult to trick him, especially after he has drained my father of all his strength and magical ability."
"Are you willing to try?" Eragon asked, his eyes focused intently on the young Kylrian. She had proved herself to him once before, when she healed him after a fight with Murtagh, but he still didn't quiet trust her.
After another moment's hesitation, Circe nodded. "I am willing to do all I can to bring about the downfall of the man who killed my father," she promised them all.
"It's all settled then," Roran said finally. "It looks like we've got a plan."