Meanwhile in the dark yet glorious castle in UrĂ»'baen and old yet fearsome King sat on his throne in his room crushing the end of the arms of his chair, that he ruled Alagaesia from with an iron fist, between his thumb and fingers.
His eyes connected with a harsh glare to the young man at the other side of the large room and nodded for the door to open. The door man, who was only nineteen, opened the door to let in the young man and the scarlet dragon through the entrance to the hall.
The door man looked back at his master. Another stern nod told him to get out of the room and leave him and his apprentice alone. He scuttled outside and stood outside until he was called back in.
Galbatorix turned his attention to the young man before him. He was tall, muscled, well tanned and considered, from what he had overheard from women of the court and servants, that he was quiet handsome. He was a mixture of his mother and father: Good intellect, inventiveness and curiosity from his mother, Selena; Enviable swordsmanship and long bow skills from his father, Morzan. His features were like his fathers but softened by his mothers: Shoulder length dark brown hair instead of cutting jet black; A manly yet slightly softer jaw line than his father's; But more intelligent, more thoughtful more caring and yet just as jaded as his father.
All of this, however, didn't equal him to Galbatorix's power, brute force and his mad and evil mind.
"Murtagh," he said distastefully.
He looked up from the spot behind the King unwillingly and in that second after he fell to the ground in agony with his Dragon who both let out the same cry of pain and torment.
Murtagh and Thorn looked up to their tormentor after the third and final round of mental and physical affliction and got up when they saw that the cruel rider was not going to do it again… for a while at least.
"You did well in Gil'ead," said Galbatorix pacing around the young rider.
"Then why punish us?" asked Murtagh before he could stop himself.
Swish. Galbatorix turned suddenly behind him and Murtagh turned to meet his gaze.
"My dear boy," he said, continuing his circling, with a silky smooth voice that sounded like melted honey.
Yeah right, thought Murtagh, Like I'm your 'dear boy'. Like anything is dear to you.
"I did that," he said as he finished his circle, "Because we have been beaten in Feinster. The Varden have taken the city."
A silence filled the hall for many minuets until Galbatorix spoke again.
"I need you to go to Gil'ead again to check on the last hopes for the Varden to defeat us are squashed. Will you do that?" asked Galbatorix.
Murtagh knew he had no choice; he would never have a choice when it included Galbatorix ever again.
"Yes, sire," he replied bowing slightly.
"Good then you will set off the day after tomorrow." The king turned his back on his unwilling servant and rang the bell. The door man went to open the door and Murtagh and Thorn retired to their rooms in the palace.
We will have to make sure that no one can get to the egg, thought Murtagh.
No one will little one, answered Thorn as he paced slowly to their own dragon keep.