Chapter Ten:

Adron had been asked to stay behind as Murtagh went ahead. He didn't want his friend with him for this part of his journey. On the way to the Plains they came upon a graveyard, and the young Rider needed to do something inside it. He had to do this alone.

Murtagh knelt before the headstone, his head tucked to his chest. Thorn sat beside him in silence. The dragon knew that it was moments like this, that the most comfort he could offer his young Rider was simply to be there in spirit. Neither spoke as the young man's hand played with the grass in front of him.

I never understood until you were dead

How much you meant to me

Lies and vague memories filled my head

Lies that blocked you from me constantly

Twenty years...it had been twenty years since he had first come into this world. No longer was he the child people constantly thought he was. No longer could people refer to him as a babe among men. However this day wasn't a happy one. Now that he thought back on it, he hadn't smiled once while in Uru'baen. He had laughed with Adron while he was imprisoned, but when he was in the service of the King once more he fell into silence.

I remember holding your hand now,

As I took my first steps.

You never let me tumble down

Until by myself I happily crept

Thorn tilted his head towards the young Rider and sighed softly as Murtagh stood. "Let's go Thorn...time to go." He whispered turning and beginning the long walk back to his troops. As they left the grave behind, Thorn looked back only once. Murtagh had restricted himself to never turning back.

All I want to know is why it hurt so much

When I learned that you did care for me

Was it because I had already lost your touch?

You were gone, and there was no more for me to see…

Murtagh took a deep breath and asked for Thorn to let him ride him. The Dragon complied, and the two flew down and out of the graveyard. They made a pass over the tremendous amount of warriors down below them, and Murtagh sighed.

You always loved me

Most of my life I ignored that love

You always believed

Yet here I am pushed aside and shoved

He landed ahead of the group and sat down on the boulders where they would make their encampment, and lay back. Thorn stretched out and rested his nose on his legs. He sighed in contentment and listened to the sound of the far off marching. It would take at least three hours before the troops made it to where he was. Three blessed hours to just sleep.

Brom had placed the boy on his horse, his right arm holding him steady as he used his other hand to hold the reins. The boy was in a complete panic, he kept trying to get off the horse and return to the tower. Brom hissed as the child smashed his head against his chin.

Not seeing another option, he pulled the horse to a stop. The boy was looking around him in affright, his wet hair slapping the former Rider in the face. He shifted the reins into his other hand, and placed his free one on the boy's face. Murtagh screamed as his hands tried to push the offender off of him.

Brom closed his eyes and murmured a few words ("Slytha Morzan's ion.") and almost instantly the boy was asleep in his arms. He never liked abusing his powers – especially not on a child. However he was not foolish enough to think that Galbatorix would simply allow him to escape after killing Morzan.

He needed to leave, and leave soon. He adjusted the boy and set his horse off into a gallop once more. He had a small group of men placed about two miles off, that was his destination. The rain poured heavily on them, and Brom hissed as the boy threatened to fall off the horse. He pulled the child close, although he was fully aware that the boy was slipping from his grasp.

The ride was fairly silent and he was happy about that. The light of his friends' encampment was glowing not that far off now. He pushed his horse just a bit farther and then he breathed in deeply when he arrived.

He pushed Murtagh down, so his neck was resting against the animal's throat. Then he dismounted as the boy was balanced. He wrapped his arms around Morzan's son's chest and then lifted him down. He looked into the pavilion that was struck, and noticed that he was being watched.

Sighing he carried the boy inside the pavilion and looked at the tall man that stood by the flaps of the tent. He nodded to him, and received one in turn.

"I wasn't aware we were bringing home captives." The man said as he observed the unconscious boy.

"I wasn't aware that Morzan had a son." Brom hissed back as he moved towards the fire. The unknown walked towards the former Rider and looked down at the child with narrowed eyes. "Morzan's son?" He asked annoyed. "We cannot bring his son back to the hideout."

"He's distraught and clearly young. He could be an asset for the future." Brom muttered as he started to remove the wet tunic from the child. He motioned for the unknown to hand him a dry garment for the boy to wear. The man did so.

"That's the point, isn't it? He's distraught. Meaning he's unpredictable."

"You should have seen him when I tried to remove him from the tower." Brom replied annoyed. He slipped Murtagh's arms out of the sleeves and threw the wet tunic to the side. "He was hyperventilating he was in so much fear." He looked up at the man beside him. "I don't think he's left that accursed tower in his entire life." He saw the man hiss in surprise, and he looked down at the boy. "What in the names of…" Brom trailed off, not knowing what to do. There was a long twisting scar on the boy's back, and it didn't take too much guessing to figure out who laid it there.

"What's his name?" the unknown asked as he frowned at the terrible scar.

"Don't know. I think its Murtagh, but Morzan said something else that I won't repeat. I have a feeling that that old bastard knew his son's real name."

"His real name?"

"Yes, he said something and asked for the boy to come to him, and then there he was all of a sudden." The unknown glanced down at the boy and sighed. There was the sound of a scuffle outside and he stood to leave.

"Get him dressed and warm, then wake him up." He stepped out of the flap leaving Brom alone with the boy.

Brom sighed and finished dressing him, before placing his hand on the boy's forehead and whispering the words that would wake him up. Murtagh's eyes snapped open; and Brom hissed as he kicked him hard. The tiny boy rolled to the side. He pushed himself to his feet and made a dash to the door – straight into the unknown man. The man snatched the child up and gave him a good shake before putting him on the ground and pushing him to sit in a chair.

The boy was shaking miserably and clearly was terrified. He kept looking around the room expecting to see something that wasn't there, and these men he'd never seen before kept trying to bring his attention to them.

"Boy!" He felt a sharp slap across his face, and he fell still – looking at the man who grabbed him. "What is your name?"

"M-Murtagh…" He whispered, shaking in fear. His father had always told him that if he left the Tower that bad men would come and take him away. Now he had left the tower, and bad men did come to take him away.

"My name is Ajihad." He said looking at the boy closely. The child's eyes were filling with tears from the strike, and the man couldn't help but feel ashamed of doing so. He thought of his own child – just younger then this boy – and he sighed. "I am of the Varden." He had said it to see if the boy was privy to his father's warmongering. From the blank look that he received, he supposed not. It was as Brom had said…the boy was an innocent. Distraught, yes, alone, yes, but innocent none the less.

"Where's my daddy?" The boy asked though his tears. He was trembling in the cold, and he wrapped his arms around his body to keep him warm. "I want my daddy!" Ajihad shot a look at Brom who sighed.


"Child, do you know what death is?" The man who had stolen him away asked. The boy looked at him confused, but answered anyway.

"It means you leave and never come back." Murtagh replied, wiping his tears onto his sleeve.

"Yes…your father's dead Murtagh…" Brom said quietly. The boy felt his anger rise.

"No! He's not! He didn't leave and not come back! He's home! He's home!" The boy got to his feet, his fists clenched in anger. "You took me! My daddy's home! He's not gone! Take me home! Take me home! Take me home!" He threw himself at Brom, banging his fists against his chest as new tears poured from his eyes.

Brom grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and held him at arms length. The irate toddler screamed and kicked trying to get at him. He looked up at Ajihad, pleading for help with his eyes. The man stayed still though, calculating all that was happening.

"Daddy says don't say lies! You're not allowed to say lies! Take it back!" Murtagh screamed again.

"Murtagh! Death doesn't mean you have to physically leave and not come back. Your father will never wake up again Murtagh! He's gone! You must accept that!" At this the boy fell silent; his eyes were wide with pain and fear. He stood there staring at the man before him, biting his lower lip.

"But…he promised…" The boy whispered. "He promised he wouldn't die."

"Murtagh…"

"Murtagh!" The Prince's eyes shot open and he snapped up, hand rubbing the sleep from his face.

"I'm awake." He said unneedingly. Adron stood in front of him looking concerned, and he glared at him. "I just feel asleep, that's all." Thorn nodded, affirming that.

"The pavilions have been struck, and it's time for the night rounds." Adron said slowly.

"Night rounds?" Murtagh asked, as he swung himself from the boulder. "How long have I been asleep for?"

"We arrived here about five hours ago."

"Seven hours?" He asked in awe. "That long?"

"Yes, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just exhausted that's all."

"Come…there's something I want to show you."

The two walked through the troops until they were in front of them all. Adron handed Murtagh a telescope from his belt, and the young Prince looked into the glass and breathed in sharply. There before them was an army.

It wasn't as powerful as theirs; that was obvious. There were fewer of them then their numbers. However…it was a force to be reckoned with. Murtagh looked up at his friend, and his friend sighed.

"Look there, to the far back right. You'll see something that you might find interesting." Murtagh did so, and then found what Adron had hours before. A dragon. To big to be a pavilion, too small to be a boulder, and to mobile to be mountain, there she was. Saphira. Which clearly meant:

"Eragon."

"What will you do?" Adron asked as Murtagh handed the telescope back to him and turned to head back to the troops.

"Hide Thorn for a while. Saphira will most likely do a round over the troops; I'll send Thorn away so she doesn't see him before the battle." He sighed and kept walking.

"That's not what I meant." Murtagh glanced back at his Adjutant and gave him a cynical look.

"I've been ordered to try to take him in haven't I? I will do what I have been commanded to." With that, and a wry smile, The Prince of the Empire made his way back to camp, commanded Thorn to go into hiding and then with a sick gleam in his eyes whispered to the night "happy birthday to me."

Windstar: apologies in the delay but I'll try to get a few more chapters up soon.

Thanks to all of my reviewers and readers and once more none of this belongs to me (except for the characters that you don't recognize)