A/N: Wow. Ahem... So, it's been more than a month since I've last updated... (sorry, times, like, infinity!) and the only thing I can retaliate with is a completly weird, short chapter. It really makes next to know sense because I forget where it was going originally (yikes) so, I don't know, I hope you like it(?). That is if anyone still wants to read this disaster. But if you do, in the good spirit of making me happy, please Review! And leave some ideas? Because I am plum out. But I'll try to have a new chapter next week on Tuesday like normal! :D
Chapter 19!
Murtagh was poised on one of the high parapets of the inner wall of Feinster. To his surprise, no one even glanced twice at him; they had no way of telling he was Morzan's son. Then they'd all be staring shamelessly.
The illogical reason why the young rider was perched atop a treacherously high parapet was that he was searching the minds of the magic users – again. Except, this time, he was only rummaging through the minds of those who had malicious intent. He liked the parapet because it put him in full perspective of the city, and the people he was probing.
It took him a rather long time, though they were all under Galbatorix's control, so it wasn't particularly difficult.
Finally he narrowed it down to three magicians: a young girl (he had been tempted to skim over her group), and two middle aged men. The girl was barely of age – how could she live with poisoning someone so close to her own age? It hadn't been straight up murder, but it had the same affect on the mind and the soul. Murtagh knew. Of course he knew, and it took its toll on him daily. There hadn't been a day, and hour, when he hadn't thought of one of the lives he taken.
Upon further inspection, Murtagh gleaned that the girl had done the honor of administering the poison. The two men had stood guard at the door. The rider knew he should not have delved so deep into their minds, caused them such pain, but Murtagh was beyond caring now. Zoë was dead and nothing could be done about that. But it had been his fault, and he now had a score to settle within himself. If he could avenge her death, it would be a weight off his shoulders.
Murtagh, being a powerful spell caster himself, had bewitched the three to stay where they were – in a pub, all at the same table, talking over what could be done about the handmaid that was being quite defiant.
Murtagh discovered they're relationship during his probing: The girl was the daughter of one man; the other man was their butler. They all had been roped into this scheme by Galbatorix. He remembered them from his mission for the evil king. The girl was a magician in the making, but she had been placed in Galbatorix's loyalty by one of the red rider's public speeches in which he had laced his voice in magic. The two men were part of the small population whom had already been sworn into the king's allegiance. He knew their vitalities had felt strange, almost vaguely familiar, like a picture he had once seen somewhere but could not place.
As Murtagh dismounted the parapet, his dragon contacted him.
Be careful, Little Misery.
I will, but please, don't try to contact me again. Keeping three magicians in full physical arrest was taking all of his strength, energy, and concentration.
Slowly, he descended the inner wall. Children laughed at his nimble acrobatics display, and Murtagh made certain to conceal his face in the early morning shadow of the enormous barricade.
If anyone saw Morzan's son, he took no notice, as he was focused on his task: reaching the pub and disposing of the trio of perpetrators.
When he at last reached the pub, people were flocked around the magicians' table, roughly shaking them, slapping them across their blank faces. Onlookers kept watch at a slight distance, wondering when the three were going to regain their sanity.
"I hollered at them to leave," a man wearing an apron frantically explained to one of the king's men, "they had been sitting here so long. But when they said nothing, I came over to scold them and shoo them away. Then I noticed they were hardly even blinking! I think they're in some kind of trance."
Murtagh didn't even bother endeavoring to plow his way through the throng of people. Standing on the edge of the crowd, he instructed: Don't say anything. Even Murtagh's mental voice was pitiless and menacing. Just run.
It took a few moments for the spell casters to realize that voluntary control of their limbs had returned to them. When they did, they ran.
The red rider took off after them, lithe and speedy as an elf with his enhanced dragon rider's abilities, looking quite the hero when, in fact, he was anything but.
Galbatorix's men followed, but without horses, elven strength, or magic, their attempts at overtaking the group were futile.
The magic users cast wards around themselves and used spells to make the feet quick. Murtagh considered exhausting their wards by battering at them, and effectively draining their energy as well, then simply killing them, but such a grim fate somehow seemed… inappropriate. They must have at least some repentance for what they'd done.
The girl seemed to know where she was going, and the men were following. The chase was weakening Murtagh, though, and soon he was forced to rally into a dead-end alley.
"Why. Did. You. Kill. Her?" Murtagh snarled.
Three terrified looks were the only response.
"Don't run, eld jeirda abr hjarta."
The girl magician went rigid. Something snapped in Murtagh's mind that made him lose concentration long enough for the two men to show their cowardice and run away. But the girl stood stick-straight, her eyes glazed over.
Cautiously, Murtagh released his hold on the girls mind. Her posture remained. Slowly, Murtagh approached, circling the young magician. His anger had almost dissipated. Almost.
"Murtagh," the girl said in a cold and almost familiar voice.
"M… Meriam?"
The girl – Meriam – nodded.
"You killed Zoë?"
"She deserved it," Meriam snarled, "the stealing slattern."
"What?" Meriam proceeded to tell a tale she apparently considered unspeakably scandalous in which Zoë went to her man-servant and seduced him into leaving Meriam.
"She was jealous! Jealous of all that my father provided me with!" Murtagh found this incredibly petty.
"You killed her – because of that?"
Meriam nodded as if it were perfectly just.
"Deyja," Murtagh uttered in disgust, and Meriam dropped dead. Back to his old ways. He really was a chip off the old block.
Thorn met Murtagh by the parapet his rider was standing on again.
Why did you kill her? Thorn asked. He didn't reproach his rider for the choice made.
I don't know – she deserved it, was Murtagh's sharp reply.
And her true name? Were you trying to use it against her?
No. I think I knew it because if the situation was reversed, I would want her to kill me.
The inn was bustling with activity when Murtagh returned. It was almost noontime, and the sun was high overhead. It was a happy scene – until he caught sight of Nasuada.
She was standing in one corner of the foyer, people crowded around her, bombarding her with questions, to the maiden's obvious annoyance, and she was tapping her foot.
Murtagh was making a beeline for the staircase up to the lodger's rooms was Nasuada grabbed him by the wrist. Disappointment dominated by fear showed in her eyes. Her beautiful eyes.
"Why did you do it?" She asked, her voice trembling.
Murtagh lowered his eyes. "I she deserved it."
Na
suada's grip went slack. "All of Feinster is in an uproar. I can't believe you." She shook her head disdainfully. "We're going to see Lady Lorana when this mess calms down." And she walked away, scowling, leaving Murtagh with a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Ah! That bar up there won't go away! Sorry! Anyway, I think short and weird is the appropriate description for this chapter and myself. Don't forget to click that little button that says leave a review! And have a great week everyone! Also, about my other fic, you might wanna check 'em out if you have the same weird taste in books as I do! I'm waiting for a betareading reply on the next chapter of The Secret Life, but I might just publish it because it is taking forEVER for this person to get back to me! Anyway, thanks for reading!
-Seastar97 3