The Black Morass

by Gerald Lambert

head, she tossed it in a corner, finding a change of clothes to sleep in. Andrar?

  Yes darling, what is it?

  I hate being here, she said, standing in the middle of the large overlydecorated room. It's cold and awful. The only time I feel even remotely happy is when I'm with you or Murtagh and Thorn. I just want to go home… She told him, slipping to the floor and folding her legs, burying her face in her hands to hide the tears from herself.

  She felt sadness and sympathy emitting from her dragon's consciousness. I know how you feel darling. We shall have to find a way to leave this place. You must be strong and hold

  out a little longer.

  How much longer? Mariah asked, standing up again and picking up a book she'd been reading, chucking it as hard as she could toward the wall. The thump both against the wall and

  the floor weren't quite satisfying enough, but still made her feel the slightest bit better. I'm going to go insane here Andrar…

  At least you are still alive. He pointed out to her sourly.

  I might as well be dead for all the good it's doing me sitting in here! She snapped at him, closing him off angrily, striding towards her bed. Mariah, catching her face in the mirror

  above her dresser, stopped abruptly. She caught her balance and let out a shaky breath, watching her face. A moment ago it had seemed vicious and cruel, her skin tinged with red

  as her blood boiled. "What am I doing?"

  "Mariah?"

  She jumped a bit and turned toward the door, answering it, "Yes?"

  "I heard something, are you alright?" Murtagh asked, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her through the crack in the doorway.

  "I'm… fine…" she said pathetically.

  He looked back at her dubiously, "You don't look fine, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing Murtagh, it's alright, really…"

  "When a lady says nothing, she means something." He assured her, leaning his hand against the wall. "C'mon now, you can talk to me."

  Mariah sighed, stepping back and letting him in her room, "It's nothing."

  There was that look again. He flopped into a chair and stared at her, kicking his feet up on the table, folding his arms clearly in a gesture for her to talk about it. Murtagh looked

  quite content, as though he would sit there all night if he had to in order to get her to talk. The stubbornness was reminding her of her brother and she couldn't help but give in.

  "I hate it here."

  "Then leave."

  "I can't."

  "Course you can." He said.

  Mariah shot him a glare, "I can't leave and still live."

  "Ah, see that's where the problem lies. You care too much about your life." He smirked a bit. "If you didn't, you'd just leave."

  "I'm not leaving you here either."

  "That too, you just care too much, don't you?"

  "I can't help it," she admitted weakly, slipping into a chair and rubbing her face again as tears threatened her eyes.

  Murtagh leaned forward, looking at her, "Believe me, if I knew a way out of this mess, we'd be out of it already. You could have left when you went off with Kieran, but you didn't"

  "You were still here. I thought Galbatorix might have killed you."

  "Right. You care too much. You didn't leave with Kieran, you came back. That, and your oath to Galbatorix sort of forced you to come back."

  "He's going to get suspicious if I try and disobey him again. He'll make me swear something more specific, like he did with you." Mariah said, shivering a bit. It was raining outside

  and it was cold for summertime. "But I just want to leave."

  "I'm sure we'll figure something out Mariah, we'll get out of here, I promise."

  She shook her head, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

  Murtagh snatched up her hands, "We will get out of here. I do promise you that Mariah." He smiled a little at her. "I won't leave without you either, I promise."

  "…I…" No one made promises to her with such sincerity, not even Mark. "Thank you."

  He nodded, standing up and walking to the door. She slipped after him, sighing and watching the floor, squeaking a bit when he hugged her. "Don't let being stuck here get to you Mariah, please. You make everything more bearable and if you give up, I'm probably going to as well. Try and get some rest now, please." Murtagh said, looking down at her.

  "Alright," she said quietly, nodding.

  "Good." He leaned down and kissed her cheek fleetingly before striding across the hall back to his room.

  She blinked, watching the door close behind him.

  She panted heavily, slamming her back up against the side of the building, closing her mouth to keep the noise of her breath down. As soon as she caught sight of a light flickering

  across the street she twisted and pushed off the wall, running again. Her feet pounded against the stone road beneath her heeled boots, the dagger against her ankle clicking in its

  sheath with every step. Skidding slightly in the road she turned down a side alley, finding it a dead end. The woman spun around before feeling her body getting slammed into the

  wall, letting out a small growl as the wind got knocked out of her.

  "You decided to come here, it's nothing personal, you know. Just business."

  Her midnight blue eyes flashed behind him, noting the other man at the end of the alley, making sure no one else happened to stroll down and interrupt their meeting. "Just the two

  of you?" She asked, regaining her breath.

  The brown haired man pressed her harder into the wall, his knife up against her ribcage. "All we need to deal with you sweetheart."

  "You don't work for Galbatorix." She smiled a bit, letting out a laugh.

  His eyes narrowed, "What makes you say that?"

  "No spy of Galbatorix would ever make the fatal mistake of going into a deadend alleyway with one of his daughters." She let out a sharp whistle as he jammed the knife into her

  armored corset. From the street a rippling growl sounded, followed by a blur of black and gray. The man standing guard shouted and waved a dagger around wildly, trying to ward

  off the demon attacking him. It jumped and clamped down on his throat, blood spurting across the wall of the alley.

  The man holding her let go and spun to see what was attacking, freezing in place as the wolf lowered its head, stalking towards him, fangs dripping with blood. No sooner had he

  blinked than an arrow was lodged halfway through his throat, leaving him unable to shout. He fell to his knees, screaming silently and trying to pull it out.

  "Wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, walking around to face him, healing up her side with a silent spell. The wolf padded up to her and nosed her hand, wagging his tail. "You'll

  bleed out faster." She placed her fingers on his forehead, searching his mind rapidly before he fell over in a dead heap. "…Trevin. You're supposed to have better aim than that. You

  barely gave me enough time."

  "Oh, Kendra, you're kidding ,right?" He threw a rope down off the roof and slipped down along it, his boots settling on the stone floor gracefully. "I knew you had plenty of time,

  otherwise I wouldn't have shot him in the throat." Trevin's bow was slung over his shoulder inside his quiver alongside a set of sixteen whitefletched arrows.

  She raised an eyebrow at him and folded her arms, as if to ask, "honestly?"

  Trevin smiled, tipping his head to the side a bit, his loose auburn hair falling over his goldenamber eyes, "You did get yourself stabbed though, found a chink in your corset did he?"

  "Just a little one, I'm fine, thanks for asking." Kendra turned on her heel, the wolf padding along after her, leaving the two dead men lying in the alley in pools of their own blood.

  "Now let's get out of this godsforsaken town." She quickly found her shehorse – a warmblooded chestnut mare – and climbed up into her leather saddle. Trevin climbed atop the

  paint tied up next to her and spurred the stallion
off southward.

  The small city of Rimmel, in the Empire, was closer to the Surdan capital of Aberon than the counry's own city of Petrovya, leaving the trip back to base only a day away – at a

  solid running pace. Halfway back it started raining on them. Had it been anyone else riding next to him, Trevin would have started complaining. Kendra wasn't one to bother with

  pointless moaning about anything, especially rain. She happened to love the awful weather. The gray and black wolf ran alongside the mare, staying in Kendra's sights the entire

  way back.

  They took side roads, avoiding travelers and towns as much they could until they reached Aberon. The large stone city was busy, too busy for anyone to notice the blood stains on

  Kenrda's corset. Setting up a base in a smaller city was simply asking for trouble, why hide when you can sit right under the law's nose? The horses were tethered up outside a

  small apothecary and their riders dismounted. They opened the door, leaving a bell to jingle overhead.

  "Ah, my darlings! You're back!" An elderly woman with missing teeth smiled at them from behind the counter, "All went well I hope?"

  "Yes Mama, of course." Kendra smiled at her, leaning on the counter. "No trouble while we were gone?"

  "Now darling, why would you think there was?" Mama grinned wider, "There are some visitors in Aberon now. Trouble? I don't believe you will find them troublesome. No. Go now,

  you must be tired. I'll have dinner done later."

  "Thank you Mama." She said, walking into the back room where all the potions and herbs were stored.

  Trevin followed, helping move a few boxes in a corner. Underneath of them was a trap door. Kendra dropped down through it and he replaced the boxes, leaving no indication there

  was anything else there. He waited a moment beside the wolf, who sat there panting, then the shelves to his right shifted and opened, leading into a downward winding staircase.

  They slid the bookcase back over the doorway and descended.

  "So, what's this Mama told me about visitors?" Kendra folded her arms as Trevin slipped around her, grabbing a chair and turning it around, sitting and leaning his arms over the

  back of it. Her eyes flicked around the room, "Delaney?"

  The blonde shook his head, "Ro's lookin' into it." Delaney said, glancing up at her from the map on the table. "He'll be back soon." His dark brown eyes blinked once and then

  snapped back to the map, unable to hold her gaze for long.

  "Good," Kendra said, slipping a chair out from the table and sitting down. "Nyx, sit." The wolf sat next to her, setting his head on her lap, allowing her to scratch him behind his

  ears.

  They glanced over as they heard footfalls on the stairs, however the steps were too light and Kendra sighed, watching Delaney's cousin walk into the room. "You're back." She

  smiled at them, setting a platter of food down on the table, "Mama sent this down, said you're probably starving."

  "Thanks Erika," Trevin said, snatching up a piece of bread and chomping into it.

  "Welcome," she said, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder, "So, Kendra, did you figure anything out?"

  "No," she shook her head, refusing to eat anything until she had the news about the visitors. "They were fakes. I think the real ones set them up as fakes. They had outdated

  information and didn't even recognize me."

  Trey smirked a little, sneaking a piece of cheese off the plate, "It's not a good day if no one tries to kill Kendra."

  Erika sighed, "Well, I don't know what to tell you darlin'. Rowan said he'll be back as soon as he figures out what's going on at the castle. So, will you eat something? And yes, he is

  likely to stay there late into the night, you know how it is."

  "Fine," she agreed finally, taking a piece of bread and cheese from the plate after tossing Nyx a chunk of meat. He snapped it up, growling slightly as he gnawed on the bone. "How

  long has he been gone?"

  "Couple hours, but he's always overly thorough when he does his research." Trey told her, watching as she stood up, walking down the hallway, opening the door at the end and

  closing it behind Nyx.

  He flopped back down on the rug, chewing on his bone, watching Kendra out of his dark eyes. She sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed, pushing her boots off with the

  opposite foot before leaning back against the wall. Brushing her shoulderlength brown hair out of her face, she ate her food slowly in silence, listening to their quiet speech in the main room wafting down the hallway, waiting for Rowan to return with good news.

  "I shall refuse to let you scour my fellow Surdans without proper compensation."

  Mark leaned up against the wall behind Nasuada, rolling his eyes a bit. Here we go again. He listened and watched the man speak on and on. Pay attention Marcus. Your

  involvement directly effects Nasuada. Adjusting his balance, he stepped away from the wall and watched King Orrin speaking to Nasuada about the Varden. They were still low on

  supplies, very low. And after traveling through Surda to the capital of Aberon, they had wiped out much of the nearby farmlands supply of crops and livestock. "King Orrin, if I may

  interject."

  He stopped abruptly, looking at Mark, clearly confused as to why he was there, not having seen him approach.

  "If you are indeed so upset by the state of your countrymen, I suggest compensating them yourself. We have not the funds to be spared. All of us are extremely grateful for your

  peoples' help and generosity these past few days. However, all of our efforts must be towards the rebellion against the Empire and Galbatorix. You see where there may inline a

  problem?"

  "Yes, yes, I see very well," he nodded. "I suppose I'll just have to spread funds from the treasury to reimburse those who have helped you."

  "And excellent idea your majesty, if I do say so myself."

  "Very well then, it shall be done."

  Nasuada smiled at King Orrin, "Can we expect no further inquiries on the subject?"

  "Of course lady," he nodded.

  Mark inclined his head to the King. "If you've finished with your questions today, I'm sure you have to get back to your experimentation soon, yes?"

  "Oh! Quite," he said, turning and hurrying off before something caught fire yet again.

  He watched the man leave and glanced at Nasuada. She picked up her skirts and turned to the door, thanking him when he held it open for her. "You seem to know precisely what

  to say and when to say it Marcus."

  "I pride myself on my ability to do such Nasuada." Mark said, walking out with her. "But he is right you know, we can't afford to keep taking so much from the people in Surda."

  She sighed a little, looking over the courtyard where Orrin's guards were clad in orange. "I know this. I simply haven't yet come up with a good solution."

  Mark looked back at her and smiled a bit, "Seeing as we're no longer traveling or fighting the Empire on a daily basis, it's my opinion that we allow the people in the Varden to do

  as they like here in Surda. It's so very difficult to keep rations to feed so many. Growing our own food and keeping our own livestock might help balance the equation a little more."

  "Talk anymore like that and I'll send you back to Orrin." She chuckled, thinking about his idea. "It seems to be fair enough… if King Orrin would allow us to have some of the land

  around Surda… and to purchase or trade for animals, yes. It seems like it would work."

  "Go ahead and think it over some more, tell me when you've come to a decision and we'll go speak to Orrin together." Mark said, stopping outside her room. "I'll see you later

  then."

  "Of course, thank you Mark." She said, going into her room.

  He stretched a bit and walked down the staircase into the entryway. All this talk about food was making him hungry though, so he turned and decided to
search out the kitchens.

  Hallway after hallway he turned down, believing it was just around the corner. Finally, he stopped, "I've gotten myself properly lost this time." He looked both ways down the hall

  and muttered to himself, hoping a maid or squire happened to walk by and notice him. No such luck. Mark decided to turn around and try to find his way back, only to find a deadend

  hall with a door at the end of it. "Better than nothing I suppose."

  "Lost?"

  Mark spun around and looked at the tall, skinny young man of twenty or so. He had dark hair and brilliant grayblue eyes. "I appear to be yes. Trying to find the kitchens." His

  hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat. His clothes were embellished and expensive, his boots well worn but of excellent craftsmanship.

  "You must be from the Varden then."

  "I am," Mark nodded.

  "If you're at the castle, that must mean you have some influence amongst them. Are you a general of their army?"

  He shook his head, "Not entirely. I'm Nasuada's assistant, she's the leader of the Varden."

  "I've heard her name lately," he nodded. "My name is Bran Gormal, my father is one of the lords here at the court."

  "The son of a lord, well aren't you special." Mark said, smirking at him a bit. Disrespectful as it may have been, making fun of him, he'd had enough experience with lords in the

  past few days being in Aberon to last him a lifetime. They were always pompous, rude and seemed to think he'd be better of lying dead on a river bottom. True as it may have

  been, he'd always come back with a polite retort to which they sneered and walked away. Now, he was lost, hungry and sick of dealing with them all, this man was just in the

  wrong place at the wrong time.

  Bran raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh… well, aren't you a little aggravated… you know I know how to get out of this deadend hallway."

  "You do?"

  "Yes." He nodded.

  Mark blinked, "Please tell me how."

  He nodded again, "Of course. What's your name anyway?"

  "Mark…"

  "Alright Mark," he walked over next to him and pointed down the hall, "You go down this hall, take a right, then a left, go all the way to the end of the hall again and go up the

  stairs, then take another left, you'll be where you started. From there you're going to go down the stairs, through the set of double doors and" Bran smirked a bit, holding onto his