Chapter 20
The intruders didn't have a chance. Galbatorix immobilised the four of them effortlessly just as they started towards him. Medea had harboured the hope that Eragon and his companions might have had some sort of plan, a powerful weapon perhaps – surely, they would not come unprepared? But if they had, they would have used it by now.
Eragon shut his eyes, his lips moving silently, and she surmised that he was attempting to attack the king with his mind. She could also see that Galbatorix was completely unperturbed. He had toyed with them, and could kill them just as easily, if he wished. And Medea could do nothing. Even if she hadn't been frozen to the spot like the rest, she could no more harm Galbatorix than a fruit fly could. She did not possess the ability to use magic, and simply rushing at the king with a sword was laughable.
'And would I do it, even if I could?' she had to ask herself. She may not have felt any love for her father, and she may have betrayed him in her attempts to be free of him, but the thought of killing him herself was oddly disturbing. Even though she accepted that others may do it.
Medea looked at Galbatorix over her shoulder, frozen as she was with her back to him. He caught her eye. 'I'm afraid your confidence was misplaced,' he told her. 'My daughter, you see, was convinced that you would defeat me,' he said to Eragon in a deceptively pleasant voice. Medea's anger rose to the surface again. She forced herself to remain silent so as not to provoke Galbatorix further.
Arya and Elva looked from Eragon to Medea, evidently bemused. 'The fact that he didn't tell you about me should be the least of your worries right now,' Medea thought irritably.
'If you think she has something to do with the Varden, you are mistaken. We kidnapped her,' Eragon spoke suddenly. Medea stared at him in dismay, but he went on without looking at her. 'She should not be punished for that!'
'Eragon, don't–' Medea hissed. Galbatorix already knew the truth – this must have been glaringly obvious even to Eragon, yet he attempted to protect her anyway. But she would not let him take the blame for her, angering Galbatorix with the lie. Now that she had admitted her treachery, she suspected that her days were numbered anyway.
But the king held up his hand to silence them both. 'Your effort is wasted on her, Eragon. Everything she did was for her own benefit. For her own freedom, for her own peace... Do not think that she shared the Varden's noble goals. Why, she did not lift a finger to help your leader, Nasuada. She would not have succeeded, of course… but she did not even try, because it had nothing to do with her.'
The worst thing was that Medea knew with sudden clarity that he was right. Everything she had done had been for her own selfish reasons. Certainly, she understood the Varden's aims and agreed with them, but did she help them in any way? No. She had to admit with shame that although the thought of helping Nasuada to escape had occurred to her, she had quickly dismissed it because she was convinced that she would fail. She had been more preoccupied with jealousy and anger over whatever was happening between Murtagh and Nasuada.
She heard Eragon ask what Galbatorix had done to Nasuada. 'Patience! All in due time,' the king replied softly. 'Before we get to that… come out, my dears, and meet our guests.' When the children emerged from behind the throne and stood beside him timidly, the king turned to Eragon. 'You of the Varden see yourselves as defenders of the innocent – very well, then let us test your convictions. Unless you stop your attack, I shall kill these three… Yes, three, including this… wayward daughter of mine. I shall kill them if you attack me again, or indeed if you displease me excessively. So you see, it is in your interests to be courteous.'
Eragon looked at Arya helplessly. Evidently, they recalled whatever assault they had tried to launch on Galbatorix previously, because a few moments later the king said, 'There, that's better. Now – Kausta.' Eragon, Arya, Elva and Saphira slid towards the dais. The king leaned forward and regarded Eragon over his hands. 'You have caused me no small amount of trouble, Eragon son of Morzan.'
'Well, I put a lot of effort into it,' Eragon said through gritted teeth.
Galbatorix raised an eyebrow. 'And yet… here you are. Where you belong. Call it destiny, if you will. If your mother had not been so foolish as to hide you away, you would have grown up here, as a child of the nobility, just like Murtagh. And it is only right that both you and your brother should serve me now, as your parents did before you.'
'Never,' Eragon responded instantly.
'Never? We shall see,' the king said calmly, sounding not at all surprised. Before he could speak again, a dull boom sounded somewhere outside the chamber, and Galbatorix smiled. 'Murtagh and Thorn will be joining us shortly, and then we can begin properly.' Medea felt a moment of sharp relief that Murtagh was alive, but it did not displace the apprehension that was gnawing at her. She did not like the meaningful glance Galbatorix threw her.
She tried to think rationally. The king needed Murtagh and Thorn. They were bound to him, bound to obey his orders, and surely, he would not dispose of such useful servants. Even if he had somehow found out about Nasuada, Murtagh's punishment would not be death. Eragon and his companions were the ones in danger here. If they refused to swear fealty to Galbatorix, and he could not find a way to force them, they would have to die. And with Eragon, the only hope of change would perish too.
Her legs were beginning to tire. She strained at her bonds cautiously, but they had not grown any weaker. From the corner of her eye, she saw Eragon watching her, and then mirroring her efforts. Failing, he spoke, addressing the king. 'How is it that you can do this?' They all understood what he was referring to.
'I would like to know that as well,' Arya said quietly. Medea's interest was likewise roused, but she knew better than to speak. She waited for the king's answer.
A ghost of a smile touched Galbatorix's lips as he answered, 'Very well. I will show you.'
'With this Word, I can reshape spells as easily as another magician might command the elements. All spells shall be subject to me, but I am subject to none, except those of my choosing.'
The king's words settled onto Nasuada, stunning her. She saw her own despair and anger mirrored in Eragon's face as Galbatorix spoke; then he composed himself, and steely determination entered his narrowed eyes. Nasuada dared to hope that he had thought of a plan. She herself failed to see what could be done against that kind of power.
None of them could see her – the block of stone to which she was chained was enveloped in darkness. Galbatorix was the only person to know of her presence in the chamber. The cloth tied over her mouth prevented her from crying out, but at least she could see them all well enough.
The door to the chamber suddenly opened. Murtagh entered, walking briskly towards the dais. Thorn's thundering footsteps echoed his own. Nasuada could see Murtagh's anger in the set of his jaw, and wondered at the disgusted look he gave Eragon. Before he took his position to the right of the throne, he glanced at the dark-haired woman standing by the dais, his eyes lingering on her. Nasuada had met her before. It had been a shock to find out that the woman Eragon introduced to Nasuada as a servant called Ilena was, in truth, Galbatorix's daughter. She didn't understand why Eragon would lie to her about this, or why he brought the woman to the Varden. There was evidently more to the situation than she knew.
As she watched Murtagh, Nasuada wondered fleetingly if there was something between him and Ilena, if that was her true name. There was something in the way they looked at each other, she thought.
Suddenly, the lanterns above Nasuada sprang to life. She found that everyone's eyes were turned towards her.
Murtagh was furious, that was plain enough. From the look he shot Eragon, it seemed the other Rider was the source of his anger. As he turned away from Eragon, he caught Medea's gaze and lingered by the dais a moment longer than he should have. Medea had no doubt that Galbatorix noticed, but somehow she didn't think it mattered anymore.
When Galbatorix revealed Nasuada, Medea couldn't resist glancing at Murtagh to see his reaction. She noticed the concern with which he looked at the woman. She clenched her jaw and suppressed the foolish stab of jealousy, focusing her attention on Galbatorix's words.
'None of you shall leave until you have pledged yourself in service to me, nor shall you leave until I have learned the true name of each and every one of you,' Galbatorix was saying. It didn't escape Medea's notice that as he spoke, his gaze travelled pointedly between Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Elva and Nasuada, while ignoring his daughter. He wasn't addressing her. He didn't need her fealty – after all, she had never been much use to him. 'You will bow down before me and this noisome rebellion will come to an end.'
There was cold anger in Eragon's voice as he replied. 'We won't give in.'
'Then they will die,' Galbatorix said calmly, gesturing at Medea and the two children sitting by his throne. 'And their deaths will change nothing. You may fight, if you wish, but the outcome will be the same. You will swear fealty to me. Your men outside will be no help to you either – the battle is going badly for them. You would do well to accept your fate now.'
Eragon looked from the children to Medea. There was sorrow in his eyes, and she knew then what his decision was.
'Why won't you fight me?' Eragon demanded of the king. 'Are you afraid? Is that why you hide behind others like a frightened old woman? Release me and meet me in honest battle!'
Rage threatened to overwhelm Murtagh. The fool would not give in. He was going to get Medea killed, and the children, and it would change nothing. He didn't have a chance against Galbatorix.
Murtagh was not about to stand there and allow that to happen.
He stepped forward resolutely, before Eragon angered Galbatorix enough to make him carry out his threat. 'Sir,' he addressed the king. 'Allow me to meet this challenge on your behalf.'
A.N.: Sooo the next chapter should be the final one, and I have been planning it for ages, because I hated the ending of Inheritance and wanted to rewrite it in a way that I liked better. So I'm nervous about how it's going to turn out and whether you guys like it! Anyway, I hope people are still reading, since I'm so bad at updating this; and I hope you liked this chapter :)
Estherdabookworm – ah, thank you for your correction! And thanks for reading and leaving your reviews!
Restrained Freedom – thanks a lot, I always look forward to your reviews!