Her Fault
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this chapter except Luce, Siloa, Morgana, Sanchez, Claudius Tábor, and Belinda.
Galbatorix, king of Alagaësia, was lying in his bed, contemplating his life. It had certainly been well-lived. He worked day and night for his people, and he had made some personal sacrifice. His conversation with Tábor three weeks ago had opened his eyes to that. Here was a man who was well past his prime married to a much younger woman who gave him pleasure. It bothered Galbatorix incessantly. He had no idea why he should give up such pleasures simply because he was king.
His mind strayed to Siloa and Morgana. Each had attracted him and pleased him in her own way. Luce had resembled her mother a bit that night. It angered him that she dared to do that.
His mind strayed again to his newest spy, the former slave called Belinda. She would be unsuitable for marriage, of course, but she was beautiful and would have little to watch this night. She had pleased Elra Andrickai, and the king was in a much better condition than that man had been.
"I would like you to summon the servant girl called Belinda," he told his attendant. The man nodded and strode through the door.
Belinda was sitting down; talking to that man she had met a few weeks ago. Sanchez was his name. He amused her greatly. They were both laughing over a joke he had just told. She was grateful to be around a man who was young and needn't fear the whip if he looked at her the wrong way. She leaned her head on his shoulder. It wasn't as though this wasn't practical; she could get information for the king if need be. She smiled to herself.
An attendant rushed up to the pair.
"What is it?" Belinda questioned him.
"His majesty wishes to see you," the man replied shortly.
Belinda frowned. He never summoned her. She always went to him to report her findings. Something wasn't right here.
She followed the man down the corridors. Belinda realized they weren't heading for the throne room.
When she questioned the attendant about this, he merely shrugged and said, "His majesty wishes for you to come to his personal chambers."
Belinda almost stopped dead in her tracks.
This cannot be happening, she told herself.
"Is something wrong, girl?" the attendant inquired.
Belinda shook her head.
It can't be that, she thought. It can't be.
Both servants mounted the flight of stairs. Belinda panted as she ascended to the top of the steep steps. The attendant seemed used to such climbs.
They at last reached a door, and the attendant sent Belinda inside.
"I have nothing to report, your majesty," Belinda told the king with a curtsy the moment she stepped in the door.
"I have not called you here for a report," Galbatorix replied, rising from his chair. He walked over to her and lifted her from her knees.
Belinda bit her lip. This simply couldn't be happening. Why did all her masters treat her as such?
Galbatorix kissed her hard. Belinda was too frightened to respond. She was used to doing this, but the king terrified her beyond belief.
He broke apart and stared down at her. "You have no need to fear me," he whispered, stroking her face. His hand wandered down her neck and to her chest.
Belinda forced herself to respond because she knew the consequences would be dire if she did not.
All the while, she thought, This is her fault. If she hadn't been so damn untrustworthy, I would have never been forced into this. If she hadn't spoken to Tábor, the king would have never made me spy on him. I would have never had to find out what men my own age are like.
She will pay, Belinda thought as the king pressed her against his bed. I don't know how yet, but she will.
Luce moaned as she stirred. Her head was pounding. Why was that?
She opened her eyes. The wall she was facing was the wrong color. Her room was a different color.
That wasn't all. There was an arm around her waist and another around holding her hands to her chest. What was going on?
She slowly thought back to last night. She didn't remember much after her third drink. This wasn't good.
She freed one of her hands and punched the man holding her in the face.
She heard a loud gasp of pain, and she rolled over to look up at his face.
The man was Murtagh.
Luce frowned. Why had he been holding her? Had they done something last night that she had forgotten?
"Murtagh, why am I in your bed?" she asked.
Murtagh put his head down, ran his hands through his hair, and replied, "You got drunk and passed-out in the courtyard. Your dragon wouldn't let me leave you alone because you had been so drunk before you fainted. He didn't want you to wake up and hurt yourself."
Luce stared at him for a long minute. She felt a wave of nausea come over her. She clutched her stomach and vomited over the side of Murtagh's bed.
The red rider walked over to her and put his hand on her head.
"By gods, you have one hell of a hangover," he muttered.
"Oh, that's lovely to know," she snapped. "What do I do about that?'
"I would sleep and drink water and tea. There's not too much else you can do," Murtagh told her.
Luce groaned. "Remind to never drink again," she whispered, putting her hands on her head.
"I'll keep that in mind," he quirked.
"Why do I have the feeling you're laughing at my expense?"
"I would never."
"Of course you wouldn't."
"Lessons are cancelled today. I'll tell them that you're sick. Your maid wasn't in your rooms last night. She still hasn't come back. I don't suggest you go back there. She might be curious as to why you're in this state," Murtagh explained.
Luce nodded and rolled over, trying to rest. This was not a fun state to be in.
I would suggest you never touch a drink again, Iormungr told her.
I won't, Luce replied irritably.
I know you won't. I'll make sure, the green dragon shot back.
Luce groaned and turned over again.
Nasuada sat at her desk, going over the endless pile of paperwork. Ever since the failed rebellion weeks ago, she and the rest of the Varden had been trying to rectify the situation.
So many dead, she thought. It plagued her incessantly.
Farica seemed to sense what was wrong with her and suggested, "Why don't you contact Eragon? From what you've told me, nobody from Surda or the Varden has done that."
"We've been too busy," Nasuada explained.
"I think it would be a good idea still," the maid continued.
Nasuada got up from her desk and strode down the corridors towards Orrin's throne room. This idea of Farica's was worth executing. Eragon, after all, would need to know.
Eragon was meditating when his concentration was broken by the sounds of someone running and shouting. The rider opened one eye. He saw a male elf bounding towards them.
"Shur'tugalar, a message from the Varden has come," the elf was saying.
Eragon stood up, and Ardis and Oromis followed suit.
"What do they have to say?" he inquired.
"You must come to Tialdarí Hall for the message," the elf explained.
All three riders and dragons took off for the queen's ancestral home.
Islanzadí stood at the center of a large, oak table. Her hands rested on it as she stared into the depths of a crystal mirror that the elves had carved into the table. She looked up as she saw them enter the room.
"Ah, Shur'tugalar, I am sorry that I interrupted your lessons, but the Varden have said that this message should have been delivered weeks ago and cannot afford to be delayed any longer," the queen explained.
"There is no harm, Islanzadí Dröttning," Oromis assured the queen.
She nodded and indicated that the riders should look into the mirror.
Eragon saw Nasuada's face, as well as those of Carlo, Trianna, Orrin, Talson, Arya, Orik and several elves he had never seen before. It surprised him that he could see them, so he questioned Oromis about that.
"This is not scrying, Eragon. This is a way to send messages to somebody. It is an entirely different process. You need not have seen the person before to see them in the mirror. Also, the message was for Islanzadí, who has seen these spellweavers before. Only a privileged few are allowed to send these messages, and the sender is the only one allowed to speak. Arya is one of them, though she was not at the time of your first visit," Oromis explained in undertones. Ardis listened as well.
"What has happened, Lady Nasuada?" Eragon inquired.
Nasuada turned to Arya and spoke words that Eragon could not hear. Arya nodded and spoke, "The Varden had planned to burn Galbatorix's palace in Urû'baen several weeks ago. The plan failed. We believe that someone revealed the truth about it to Galbatorix before it happened. The Varden understands that you cannot return at the current time. We just felt the need to alert you to such things." Eragon noticed how both Talson's eyes rested on Carlo for a moment when Arya said this. Orik said something to Arya as Nasuada had done. "Orik also says that you should keep wearing the necklace the Quan gave you, for Galbatorix will almost surely be able to scry you. Also, protect your mind and take care that he does not reach it," the elf continued.
Eragon nodded. He had forgotten how much Arya's beauty and voice affected him. He could barely tear his gaze away from her as she spoke.
"How many died?" Ardis asked, cutting into the conversation.
Arya's face became very somber. "Over one-hundred. The green rider killed one of our best magicians."
Ardis' face looked sad at the mention of her sister.
"Is that all?" Islanzadí inquired.
Arya nodded. "I only have to remind you that I will be in Ellesméra in a little over two months time."
The queen nodded, smiled, and let the image go.
Eragon stared at the ground. This was bad for the Varden. They had lost one-hundred members, and Galbatorix had gained highly secreted information from a spy. This was frightening.
Ardis looked equally upset. Her pretty, little face looked forlorn. The girl noticed his discomfort and put her hand on his shoulder. Eragon looked down at her and sighed.
"Should we go back to our training, ebrithil?" the male rider asked Oromis.
The old rider nodded. The six bid Islanzadí farewell and went back to the Crags.
Worry tugged at the back of Eragon's mind. He remembered how powerful Murtagh was, and now it seemed that Galbatorix had another of great power on his side. Ardis was doing well in all lessons that didn't involve sparring, but she had not received the training that Murtagh and Luce had doubtless received so early in their training.
Do not give up hope, little one, Saphira told him.
I won't, Eragon told her.
I will never let you, the blue dragon continued.
Eragon allowed himself a rueful smile.
Okay, I know too much didn't happen in this chapter, but is five reviews too much to ask?
Amantine: I'm glad you like the story. I updated three times this weekend. I hope that was good enough. Like I said, I don't get home from school until 6:45-7:00 Monday-Thursday. My coach decided that we need more practice because of the regatta we're having next week.
Elemir: I put some Varden in this chapter.
Deer-shifter: You were right. P.S. That was a really good idea. That's why it was in there.
PWCTBL: No, you didn't creep me out. I'm glad you like that character.