Captured Hearts Chapter 12

Chapter 12 MURTAGH I watched as she slept so peacefully on the big bed. She was so small and fragile compared to the bed with its massive oak carved beams and blue velvet hangings. I felt like the cruelest person on earth, I had taken her away from the land she belonged to, the land that, for a short period of time, I felt I had belonged in too. I kept on looking at her; her pale skin was made paler by the moonlight coming in through the window. I smoothed the hair on her forehead and felt her stir. “Hush, go back to sleep.” I soothed, hoping to leave. I knew if she woke, she would have words aplenty for me. “Who’s there? Murtagh, is that you?” I could hear a sharp edge to her voice. The storm had come and I deserved every word. “How could you, you, son of a-!” She started as my hand clamped down on her mouth before she could get the last word out, the word that was not meant to be said by one such as her. She was too kind and witty to descend to such language, but we are all of us humans and sometimes we must express ourselves in our own ways. This was the scholarly part of me talking and I shoved it aside. I was a man and I still had my pride. “You may call me anything you like but not that. I was the son of a woman with pride. Whatever I am, do not slander my mother.” I lifted my hand as she stared open-mouthed at me. Then she started to cry. I felt my heart, or whatever was left of it, breaking. Whatever she could have said would not have hurt me more than seeing her break down and cry like this. I felt my knees give way and I knelt at her side, begging her to stop. “Call me anything you like, just don’t cry, not like this. I cannot take your tears upon my conscience. Stop, please stop!” I heard her quiet herself and looked up at her from my spot on the floor. “You are not to blame here Murtagh; I can see that plainly even though I can’t see much.” She hiccupped a laugh and I felt a little better. “I am sorry, I truly am. I could never wish ill upon any female but here I am and I have done ill unto you. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, for I do not deserve it.” She was about to say something more when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it. A mail clad soldier saluted and said the king needed to see me. I turned and said farewell to Abby and left, my heart as heavy as stone. As I entered the throne room, I saw him seated there in a chair of black stone with carvings in red, a throne of power. It froze the blood in my veins. He sat there, his face in shadow, wearing a black cloak of velvet. “Well well well. Here is the poor soft hearted sop they call a dragon rider. You have learned nothing about being cold and cruel, have you? Well, we shall change that shan’t we? As for the matter of Eragon, you have done well in bringing Abby here. She is an asset and a soft hearted asset at that. I shall break her will, or I shall make you do that. You do know the best way to break a maiden’s will, do you not?” he said this with a steely glance over his shoulder, where a serving woman stood cowering in the corner. I felt my cheeks redden and the fire in my soul rise up to roar in my ears as he insulted my manhood. “To other matters, you did well. We still want Eragon and that other maiden as well. For if we do have Saphira and also Aubree, we can mate both dragons and maybe start a line of dragon riders. You could also help by taking Abby as your partner, but we have time for that. Now, we must prepare to attack the Varden and seize Eragon. Use all your strength and try to capture them. I don’t want them killed. Harmed maybe but not killed. Now, go from my sight! You stink of sorrow and self-pity.” I turned my back and marched out, head throbbing and eyes stinging. I hated him with every fiber of my being, yet I was bound to him. I could not kill myself or run. I was like a rat in a trap, the cat outside toying with the lock. ‘I am sorry’ I thought as I saddled Thorn. I was glad for the long flight, it would clear my head and if I did catch Eragon and Aubree, Abby would have company. Maybe she would be happy then. I shook my head, stupid dreams. I shot out of the castle with a company of 600 men at my heels to carry out what, unknowingly, would be my last deed for the madman called Galbatorix