The Black Morass

by Gerald Lambert

  dagger tightly, watching Mark fall into an unconscious heap on the ground. "That was much easier than I anticipated."

  When Mark woke, he was tied to a chair, gagged and staring right into the dark blue eyes of a woman only a few years older than his sister. He jerked backward, nearly tipping the

  chair over.

  "Hey, take it easy; don't go breaking my favorite interrogation chair!" Mark glanced toward the tall dark haired lord's son.

  "Rowan, you don't have an interrogation chair," Trevin said.

  He watched the ginger with an unamused expression, "Have I ever used a different chair for interrogations?"

  Trevin blinked, "Huh. No, suppose you haven't. Guess I never really noticed."

  "Boys," Kendra stood up, looking at both of them in turn. They quieted back down quickly. "Good. Now. Mark, was it? Care to tell me why you and your merry little band of freedom

  fighters are in Aberon?" She reached over and pulled the cloth out of his mouth.

  "No." He said flatly. How did I not see that dagger? It was in his pocket the whole time; he was fondling it the entire time he was talking to me! I knew he was, I just didn't care

  enough? What was I thinking? Nasuada. Damn them. She's going to be wondering where I've gone.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. "We're not going to kill you. Or Nasuada or anyone else. Yet. Now, please explain to me why you're here."

  "The Varden is in Aberon to gain assistance from King Orrin." That much everyone knew. "We're planning on retaliating against the Empire's forces."

  "Retaliating against Galabtorix?" From behind her Nyx growled. "You must all be much crazier than Rowan said you were."

  Mark kept his mouth shut, watching her.

  Kendra shook her head, sitting down in the chair opposite of him. "All I want is information. You can tell me nothing about you and I'll tell you nothing about me, alright? We're on

  the same side. I want nothing more than to destroy Galbatorix and his Empire. He has gone on far too long without restraint and there is no one who can defy him alone. Not even a

  Dragon Rider," she said, poking Mark in the chest. "So wherever you're hiding your Riders, you might as well call them out, because nothing you have will be powerful enough to

  beat him."

  "You're right," he said after a minute of sitting in silence. "Our Rider isn't strong enough to beat Galbatorix… yet… but he will be."

  "You have more than one."

  "No, we don't, Galbatorix thinks we do, but we have only one Rider. He's training right now."

  "Training… with the elves in Ellesmera?"

  Mark stared at her, lips parted in shock.

  "He is," she nodded and stood back up. "You see Mark, I'm a good ally to have. We are all very talented, very skilled spies. Each of us has a specific skill that we can put into play

  depending on our situation." She motioned toward the dark haired man leaning on the wall in the corner. "You've already met Rowan, yes, he is the son of lord Gormal, but he

  prefers Rowan. Once you've spent enough time in Aberon, you'll come to know him as the King of the Black Palace. It's what we all call the underground city of Surda. No one steals

  anything, kills anyone or whispers without Rowan's say so. He laid claim to the title last spring when he dethroned the previous king. And by dethroned I mean murder. You

  shouldn't trust him around knives, swords, poison or any other sharp object for that matter if you don't know him personally or owe him a favor."

  "Trevin," she motioned to the ginger sitting behind her, "Was formally trained by Galbatorix's archery division in his army and has recently fled the Empire to help his family. His

  unit in the Empire believes him to be dead. From three hundred feet away he can shoot a fly off the wall and leave it breathing. He specializes in longdistance assassinations. His

  personality is obnoxious at times, so you'll have to ignore him."

  "Del's family died in a raid by the Imperials and now lives with his cousin, Erika. Her family is well known in the southern cities of Surda." Kendra pointed at the fair girl sitting in

  the chair. She was no older than his sister, sixteen or so. "For her own protection, she knows how to wield a dagger, however she mainly works with poisons and magic. Her ability

  to get close to highranking lords makes her indispensible. Her cousin on the other hand, is a little less flair and a little more blood." Delaney sighed a bit, looking at her with

  exasperation. He was a few years older than his cousin, but still had light blonde hair and brown eyes. "He's usually annoyed with everyone, which makes it difficult for him not to

  kill you in your sleep. If you hand him a spear, he'll skewer your head on it in a matter of seconds. Del's the one who keeps track of where everyone is and what's going on, without

  him keeping our books, we'd be a mess."

  "Each and every one of us have perfect reflexes and will not hesitate to kill you if you threaten any of us, so for your own safety, don't." Kendra snapped her fingers and Trevin

  walked over, untying Mark. "We call ourselves Black Lightning and our goal is to destroy the Empire."

  Mark stood up, rubbing his wrists and glancing around at them all, "Alright, but you still haven't mentioned a few things. What is that?"

  "My wolf, his name is Nyx and he too will kill you if you keep asking stupid questions." The wolf at her feet growled at him, bearing bloodied fangs.

  "Why are you letting me live?"

  She smirked, "Because you live inside the Varden and know exactly what we need to know about everything Orrin and Nasuada are planning. We need you to keep in contact with

  us, in turn, we'll help you out. It's a fair exchange." She told him. "Now if those are all your questions you may leave."

  "No, I have one more."

  "And that is?"

  "Who are you and why do you hate the Empire so much?"

  The woman with the midnightblue eyes looked at him with amusement, flicking her shoulderlength brown hair out of her face. "My name is Kendra and my father is Galbatorix."

  Finiarel an honorific phrase for a young man of great promise

  Ristvak'baen Place of Sorrow

  Alright, well this was fun... everything except the first part was my own. Are you liking how I'm avoiding the main story or no? Any suggestions on how to make it better?

  I don't really have much to say except that I'm working part time and going to school full time so this story is going to have little attention save probably on weekends. I'll do my

  best to get this to you all, since the loyal readers have been just that. I always appreciate your comments, concerns and questions. I hops this answers some and brings up some

  others.

  Rubbing her eyes, Mariah shook her head, "I just didn't sleep well last night, that's all. I'm just a little tired." She growled slightly as Andrar chuckled in her head, knowing very well

  she'd been up all night furiously thinking about Murtagh. It had surprised her, though he'd always been kind and would openly talk to her about nearly anything, she'd never thought

  of him as being affectionate in any way. The sudden way it had occurred had been surprising as well, though now that she was thinking it over, she realized she should have seen it

  coming.

  "Mariah!"

  "Ah – what?" She jumped, looking at Kieran.

  The princess narrowed her eyes and growled a bit, "I said, get ready, you and I are going to practice fight today in the court yard for Galbatorix."

  "Oh…" she said simply, trudging to the armory to get ready. Mariah pushed open the heavy door and froze, staring at Murtagh.

  "Morning," he said brightly. "Sleep well?"

  She blinked, was he joking? Mariah stared back at him a moment more before going to find suitable weapons to give Kieran a thrashing for the day.

  "…is… something the matter?" He asked, watching her as he tightened his vambraces.


  Mariah bit her tongue and grabbed her sword, striding back out of the room to meet with Kieran in the courtyard. From a ways off Andrar was watching her, You know why it is

  you're so upset, don't you darling?

  She shot him a glare, No.

  Oh, but you do. Your heart's torn in two and your mind tells you no but you really want it to say yes.

  Speak not in riddles dragon. Mariah stared over at him a moment, hating every second of his silence. When she finally decided he wasn't going to continue she strode off to find

  Kieran. "Are you ready?"

  "There you are; I was wondering if you were ever going to show up." She said, readying her blade.

  Midway through their spar, Galbatorix strode out to watch them. He seemed pleased with Mariah's progress, despite Kieran holding back to make the match more even. When he'd

  seen enough, he stopped them both and turned to Murtagh, standing beside him. "I want you and Mariah to fight, and I don't want either of you holding back." The younger man

  straightened a bit, clearly wincing before stepping over to take Kieran's place.

  "Don't hold back Mariah, I can handle myself."

  Her eyes narrowed a bit at him and she lunged forward, already worn out from the fight with Kieran moments ago. With the sword she'd taken from the armory this morning being

  lighter than her previous ones, she was doing quite well. Her swings were a little wild, but it was to be expected since her mind was elsewhere.

  Realizing she was out for blood, he gripped his sword tighter and defended himself, backing away from her attacks until he'd nearly been pinned against the wall. Catching her

  blade, he twisted his hand and shoved her back away from him so she stumbled. Before she could regain her balance, he slipped away from the wall and repositioned himself better

  to fight against her.

  "Murtagh, you haven't even so much as tried to attack," Kieran mentioned to him, glancing over her nails. He flicked his gaze to her for a moment and then lashed out toward

  Mariah.

  Parrying the blow, she fell into a series of maneuvers, allowing herself to avoid the majority of his attacks. A few swipes of his blade landed heavily against her leather armor, but

  none, thankfully, drew blood. Mariah snarled and twisted in closer against him, drawing a knife from her belt and jamming it deep into his left shoulder. He shoved her away,

  gritting his teeth and reaching up to grab the blade, wincing as it shifted in his muscles.

  "Looks as if Mariah won this time," Kieran muttered, looking at the girl, impressed. If she'd wanted to, she could have easily dug the dagger into his heart and killed him on the

  spot. "I wouldn't pull the knife out yet Murtagh, you're going to bleed profusely."

  "Then what do you suggest I do Kieran!?" He shouted at her, wincing painfully as he touched the knife again.

  She folded her arms, "I suggest you get someone to pull it out and heal that gaping hole in your shoulder. And you know very well it's not the best idea to do all that yourself."

  Kieran glanced at her father and he nodded.

  "You are all dismissed for the day. Murtagh, see me tomorrow and bring Thorn with you." He insisted as he stood and, without so much as a goodbye, left the courtyard.

  Mariah shoved her sword back through the sheath at her side and pivoted on her heel, walking back inside, her stride long and purposeful. Her feet brought her to the armory,

  where she quickly stripped off any excess armor and dropped off her blade. Afterward, she went straight up to her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

  "I don't know what you've done to make her so sore at you, but I suggest you find out quickly, because I refuse to assist you with that…" she motioned to his shoulder, "I don't

  particularly feel like getting blood all over myself today." Kieran told him flatly. He growled slightly and hurried after Mariah, dripping blood all along the stone floor, leaving extra

  work for the maids.

  "Mariah!"

  She glared at the door, sitting on her bed, trying to pry off her boots. Chucking one against the floor, she stomped over unevenly and flung it open, "What?" She growled out to him.

  Setting his jaw, he looked at her hard for a moment before giving in and sighing, "Will you fix my arm… please?"

  "Sit… down," she said, turning away from the door and kicking her other boot off. He did so and she walked back to him, grasping the dagger tight in her hand and wrenching it out

  without much warning. Murtagh clamped his teeth together, groaning as she flicked the bloodied knife onto the table and started healing up the wound. "There." Mariah told him,

  walking to her dresser and grabbing a handkerchief to clean the dagger.

  "Mariah"

  "You're healed up, you can leave now."

  "I didn't mean to upset you."

  "Well, you have." She snapped, turning on him. Mariah snatched up the dagger and set to cleaning it furiously. "So you can leave now."

  "Mariah." There was that tone again, the one that always got to her. "Look at me." She snapped her eyes up to his and moaned inwardly. "I did not intend on upsetting you. If you'd

  like we can pretend nothing happened."

  "But it did, and that's where the problem lies." Mariah hissed.

  He reached up and grabbed the knife away from her, placing it on the table. "Please sit down for a minute Mariah." She sat in the chair across from his and sighed. "Most women

  simply slap me when they're upset with me. I've never been stabbed by someone like that." Mariah stared at him, not giving him so much as a smile. "Mariah… I… I thought you

  wanted me to make an advance…"

  "I never said that."

  "Then let me apologize."

  "I don't… know Murtagh."

  He watched her a moment, "You don't know where this is going… or why…"

  "Yes."

  "Mariah, I don't know either. But do know neither of us have any intention of being stuck in this castle with Galbatorix longer than we have to be… and now both of us are Riders…"

  "Are you simply saying that it's convenient?"

  "No… I'm just saying… that you're here with me and I enjoy being in your company, more so than anyone else. If you don't want me so close, then we can both be done with it right

  now."

  She looked at him for a moment, and then shifted her gaze to their hands, interlocked softly. When she hesitated, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on her lips. Murtagh met

  no resistance and smiled slightly, pulling away again, "…Mariah?"

  Who knew how long she was going to be stuck in here? If she ever saw her brother or Eragon again, it would be a miracle. She was trapped with Galbatorix and having Murtagh to

  hold onto through it all sounded like a better way to handle it than alone and crying all the time. She smiled slightly back and squeezed his hand, "I'm sorry I stabbed you earlier…"

  He let out a chuckle, "It's alright."

  She nodded slightly to him.

  "I'm quite tired from that fight… so I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Besides, Galbatorix wants me to see him in the morning." Murtagh said to her.

  "Right. You should rest."

  He stood and pulled Mariah to her feet, hugging her. "I'll see you in the morning Mariah."

  She blinked at the hug as her cheek pressed against his shoulder, hands against his chest. As he let go, she smiled slightly. "Good night Murtagh." She said, watching him walk out

  of her room. Mariah waited for the door to close before slipping onto her bed, hugging her pillow.

  My darling, are you alright?

  Yes Andrar, I'm fine… she insisted, curling up and going to sleep.

  Having slept quite restlessly, Murtagh woke early the next morning. Dressing and pulling on his boots before the sun was even up. He paused in the hallway and listened hard,

  wondering if Mariah was awake yet.
Thorn nudged his hand as it moved toward the door and snorted. "Alright." He muttered, turning and walking down the hall toward the throne

  room.

  "Ah, good morning Murtagh." Galbatorix grinned at him, lacing his fingers together, standing up from his throne. Shruiken was lounging in a corner, eyeing up Thorn with a large

  glassy eye.

  Murtagh swallowed hard, a shiver running down his spine. "You wanted to see me?"

  "Yes. Your performance yesterday was lacking to say the least, and I believe this to be a fault of your Dragon Rider abilities being so new. You're not used to them and they're

  definitely not as powerful as Mariah or Kieran's. So, I've come to the conclusion you'll be better matched if we increase your abilities."

  "Isn't that going to happen over time…?" Murtagh asked, furrowing his brow.

  "Time is one thing I do not have. The Varden is getting anxious and I plan on attacking them soon. However, you are unfit to fight if you can lose so easily to the girls. I would

  expect you to be ashamed of yourself for losing so badly to a woman."

  "Kieran and Mariah are both excellent fighters… there's no shame in losing to someone with more skill than your own."

  Galbatorix shook his head, "Then you've learned nothing. Don't lose, that's what you should be thinking. It's always shameful to lose, realize that now. Winning is the only way to

  prove yourself."

  Murtagh set his jaw, staring back at the king.

  "As I was saying, time is of the essence." He stepped down and toward them, reaching out to Thorn. The dragon cringed and hissed slightly, scurrying to Murtagh's other side,

  pressing his head up against his hand. "Your growth must be supplemented with magic if you're to be powerful enough to lead the army's siege of Surda." Before Murtagh or Thorn

  could protest, he spoke loudly in the Ancient Language, leaving Thorn cringing and roaring out in pain.

  Eragon had been in Du Weldenvarden for so long that he had begun to long for clearings, fields, or even a mountain, instead of the endless tree trunks and meager underbrush. His

  flight with Saphira provided no respite as they only revealed hills of prickly green that rolled unbroken into the distance like a verdant sea.