Inheritance Cycle 1. A Deal Is Struck

The men at the banquet table turned and looked at Valdis as she entered the tent with great animosity. They were all mostly bulbous men with armour that was too small and they were so plumed and decorated it was almost embarrassing for Valdis to gaze at them. At the head of the table sat the Red Rider who seemed to be the only warrior at the table of generals. Despite the torches staked into the ground the aura at the head of the table was darker, as though the evil of the man diminished the fire of the torches. As she noticed them their flames grew and the man's face was illuminated.

It was a surprisingly young face.

"Forgive the intrusion my lords," he pushed Valdis forward, "This woman insisted that she speak to Commander Kreeve."

"I didn't ask for _entertainment _for the evening, soldier_," _said the most bulbous man at the table though he seemed to not mind the idea as he sipped wine form a horribly gaudy jeweled goblet.

"You couldn't offer me enough gold to be your entertainment."

Several of the men chuckled and the bulbous Kreeve grew scarlet with anger and a vein on his brow pulsed.

"I should _make _you a whore for your insolence!" Kreeve spat.

The Red Rider remained shadowed and silent.

"I have come because your wounded and dying men are without supplies and most importantly _water_," Valdis challenged snapping her fear with anger, "The healers that you hired can't even bandage a gash and your men lie neglected and in pain. Six barrels of fresh water from your infirmary tents have gone missing. And your men took them."

Kreeve's beady eyes flashed and he slammed a chubby childlike fist on the table.

"Such accusations are dangerous and I will not tolerate them."

"You will tolerate what I tell you to, commander," said a low and commanding voice.

Valdis looked to the head of the table, where the young Red Rider sat. He had moved only to drink from his goblet and now looked at Valdis with such an unashamed directed stare that it made her flush uncharacteristically.

"Your name, milady, what is it?"

"Valdis, your majesty, Valdis Rayasdottir."

"What makes you believe-Valdis Rayasdottir- that General Kreeve is responsible for the stolen supplies?"

"Your Majesty this is outrageous. I am-"

The Red Rider held up a hand gloved in leather and Kreeve was immediately silenced, he touched his throat and coughed, but there was no sound.

"The men that took the water barrels were wearing general Kreeve's livery, milord," said Valdis uncertainly as she watched Kreeve struggle for his voice, "Who else stained their banners the colors of bile and rot ?"

The generals at the table laughed and Kreeve grew red again. This time his outrage was silent and the generals at the table ignored his frantic hand waving. They all regarded Valdis however with appraising hungry eyes. She felt like raw meat for the wolves.

"The barrels are the property of your majesty and stealing them would then be offense against the crown would it not?" continued Valdis again this time staring at Commander Kreeve who had taken to now banging his chest with a single chubby fist and silently coughing.

The Red Rider lifted his head at the prompt and his major generals all looked to him. It was strange that they regarded him as their leader. He commanded respect of someone three times his age.

"If you would excuse me, milord's, it seems that I have a lesson to teach to a traitor."

The generals stood in unison and all bowed and silently exited the tent. One rugged looking man with black curly hair and shining armor of steel paused for a moment and looked down at Valdis. He gave a slight bow and offered a slight smile. Valdis curtsied and didn't rise till he had swept from the tent like the rest of the generals. When she stood the Red Rider was looking at her patiently. He gestured with his hand to the seat on his left.

"Sit, Valdis Rayasdottir."

As friendly as the tone of the invitation was it gave no room for refusal.

Sitting next to the Red Rider in armor made Valdis feel exceptionally plain in her chemise and kirtle. His plate armour was black and inlaid with fine silver etchings that swirled along the breastplate and pauldrons on his shoulders. It was incredibly detailed and looked heavy.

"I have little respect for general Kreeve, and have been aware for some time of his less than honorable dealings. Until now I have had little evidence other than my talents to prosecute him without his army's retaliation."

"Surely if you commanded the men they would obey you or the king."

The Red Rider narrowed his eyes and regarded her shrewdly.

"General Kreeve spoils his men with the spoils of war. He does very little to command them even with fear or respect. They are only loyal to him because he provides for their dishonors. So you see, mistress Valdis, the King Galbatorix cannot afford to have the major generals twelve thousand five hundred men running amuck along the land."

"I can imagine that would be shameful…to lose control of an army."

"I will strike a bargain with you, mistress Valdis for the barrels of water. Do you think you could agree to a few conditions?"

Valdis looked up from her folded hands surprised and wary.

"It depends on what the conditions where, your majesty."

The Red Rider leaned back in his seat and tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at Valdis from an angle. His criticism made Valdis rather aware of the fact that her clothes and hands where stained with blood and her boots were covered in dirt.

"I will return the barrels of water to the wounded men. It is rightfully where they belong-"

Valdis smiled but the prince held up a hand before she could speak.

"However, I will _double_ the barrel amount to a dozen _and_ include medicine…if you spend this evening with me."

Valdis blanched and she swore that the Red Rider had a ghost of a smile upon his face at outraged reaction.

"B-but-"

"Do you not want those men to be healed, mistress?" tempted the Rider.

"That's unfair! Those men should have that water to begin with!"

The Prince dipped his head in agreement but leaned back comfortably as he could in his chair. The armour made his movement stiff. After a moment of pondering silence…

"Why should I agree to this?"

"You will be under my protection and kept away from the wandering hands and eyes of the men," he said casually, "I have already heard of you from the whispers of the infantry. They will not be as respectful of you as I will be. You may do as you desire, have what you desire and I only ask that you serve me at nightfall."

"What will we do in the evening….besides the obvious faculty of you bedding me?"

"Dine with me, converse with me. Whatever I wish that evening," the Prince explained lazily sipping his wine.

Valdis pursed her lips as she examined the Rider.

"Why me? Why not any of the few other women of the camp?" It was a rather silly question to ask and Valdis already knew the answer. The other women that she had spoken of were old enough to be the Prince's grandmothers and were riddled with pox scars of warts.

"You mean why you and not some whore I could buy?"

Valdis nodded.

"There is very little pleasure in it for me," he said honestly," As well as the fact that whores are infamous for counting customers against their other sisters. I would rather not share what is mine, and I don't want some strange soldier's cock where mine will be."

"If we are bargaining with my virtue," Valdis said crossing her arms, "then I want your own _personal_ physicians to attend to the soldiers and I want _thirty _barrels of water."

The Red Rider laughed and bobbed his head as he thought over her demands; he poured her a goblet of wine and refilled his own.

"_Twenty _barrels of water and one of my own physicians," the Rider bargained his brow furrowing slightly at the sport. He always did like challenges.

"_Twenty-five _barrels of water and _two_ magicians," retorted Valdis sipping the sweet wine as she hid the tugging corners of her mouth.

The Red Rider stopped and looked at her with a flicker of frustration and amusement. He paused and seemed to quickly think over what she had offered. Then Valdis thought of something else…

"And the water and supplies have to be delivered _and administered _to the men _before _I spend the evening with you."

"Why would you say that?" tested the Rider, though Valdis sensed he already knew why.

"You are a prince, I am a commoner. I have no guarantee that you will keep your word even if I intend to keep mine."

"You are a shrewd young woman," the Rider said with approval it seemed in his voice.

"You haven't agreed to my demands," pointed Valdis.

The Red Rider laughed and set his goblet down with an enthusiastic clang.

"I agree to all your demands, milady. On my word as a Rider, I will uphold them."

Valdis' stomach leapt as she realized what she had just agreed to. She had just whored herself for a few barrels of water. The Red Rider seemed to understand her thoughts.

"You have yet to agree to my demands. You have no promise to keep as of yet."

"I agree to your demands, your majesty."

There was silence and Valdis sipped her wine uncertainly. She was very aware of the set of dark eyes gazing at her and it occurred to Valdis that she had no guarantee for her safety.

"Guards," the Rider called and four men in plate armour entered, "Take the_ former_ major general Kreeve and strip him off his armour and the possessions of his tent."

Kreeve stood suddenly and shook his head. Valdis had completely forgotten he had been sitting at the end of the table. He had been so quiet…

"He is to be fit put to the front of major general's Marek's line but he is a foot soldier only. Ignore his silence; it is his penance for such a loose tongue."

The guards forcefully removed Kreeve from his seat despite his quiet protests and rude gestures directed at Valdis. Despite his misfortune she giggled at the comedy of his appearance.

"Is it really necessary to strip him of his title?" ebbed Valdis with lowered eyes. Despite the gross questioning of the highest authority in the land she was curious to a great fault.

"As I told you before, mistress Valdis, I have had no evidence of Kreeve's misdoings. Now I have evidence and it is his…word…so to speak," he laughed, "Against my very important own."

"I see very little hope in _former_," Valdis playfully stressed, "major general Kreeve's future."

"I would say that it is rather bleak," agreed the Red Rider with a mirthless laugh, "I can afford no empathy for my enemies."

"You must make a rather formidable opponent then."

"I would think so."

"I will do my best to be an ally then. And avoid you in a temper."

"I think that is sound advice."

Valdis stood uncertainly and put placed her hand over the prince's as it clutched his cup, then picking up the jug of wine she poured the vibrant red liquid into the silver goblet.

The prince seemed rather surprised but did not protest when she hesitantly sat on his lap and gently pushed the goblet to the prince's lips. His dark gaze never left her face and she could feel the slightest hints of stubble as her fingers brushed the corner of his mouth.

He drank in small gulps till the goblet was empty and leaning forward he placed the goblet on the edge of the table. His head was resting just underneath Valdis' chin and when she leaned her head down to the crown of his head she could smell soot in his dark hair. He wrapped a gauntlet protected arm around her waist and moved his head to meet her lips.

What Valdis was not expecting was the rather soft way that he kissed her, slow and unhurried, as if he could kiss the whole night long because there was no battle to fight tomorrow. It seemed as though he was too tired to really care but when Valdis lifted her arms to rest along the armour of his shoulders and one hand weaved through his hair, his kissing became fervent and firm. Valdis let out a small moan of surprise and pressed her lips to his with more force. Soon she was curling up on his lap and fisting both hands tightly through silky locks of dark hair.

A sharp cough interrupted them. The Red Rider rested his head against Valdis' and with closed eyes spoke through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"Major General Kreeve refuses to part with his armour, your majesty. He's fighting his own men as we speak."

Shouts and the harsh clanging sound of metal faintly reached Valdis' ears and she stood to let the Prince rise from his seat.

"Warn the _former _major general that if he doesn't comply he will be dealt with by me personally."

The guards eyes widened at the threatening prospect but he hastily brought his fist to his chest with a hard thump and gave a sharp bow before swiftly exiting the tent and barking orders.

"Contrary to my warning, I plan on personally dealing with Kreeve regardless of his compliance . It may take some time before we can continue."

The Prince walked over to Valdis and gestured with a hand that she should walk ahead of him.

"Ask for what you'd like, mistress Valdis, and my guards will deliver it. They will take you to my tent when you are completely satisfied with the work of my two magicians. Then the night is mine."

He exited the tent with Valdis following and was surprised to see that every soldier within a radius of three tents where on bended knee as the Prince stalked past, heading towards the sounds of chaos.

'Mistress Valdis, we are His Majesty Murtagh's personal guard and will serve you henceforth. I am Stahl and this is my comrade and brother Hyatt."

Both men pounded their chests with a fist and gave a sharp synchronized bow. They had the same dark red hair and matched each other in height perfectly.

"Uh-thank you, gentleman. I assume then that his majesty informed you of our…agreement."

Both men shared a glance and smirked.

"We were listening."

"You were rather outraged-"

"-at first, naturally. It's lady like to protest-"

"-you drive a hard bargain."

"Thank you," Valdis said shifting uncomfortably.

"Follow us; we will deal with your _order_."

Valdis was surprised that they had light humor despite their serious profession; it was a relief past the strictness of the army that constantly surrounded her.

"Are you fond of major general Kreeve?"

Stahl snorted.

"No one is fond of him, mistress Valdis. His majesty has been waiting for an opportunity like this to put him in his place," explained Hyatt as they walked along the rows of tents. Men bowed to them as they past.

"But, I don't quite understand, as important as water is, why strip a man of his title and wealth over six barrels of it? I didn't want that."

"Kreeve is well known for his deals with less than reputable characters. It's even rumored that he once assisted the Varden."

"The Varden? He was aiding the rebels?"

Hyatt nodded.

"That's treason! How did he manage to escape his death sentence?"

"He was never convicted, milady. It's all just rumor and conjecture; there's never been real proof."

"But your testimony was the evidence that his majesty the prince needed to have a probable enough of a cause to search Kreeve's barracks," added Stahl with a sly smile, "I hope that bastard squeals when his majesty deals with him. Pardon my crudeness, milady."

"He does look a little like a hog," Valdis thought out loud, "I'm sure he'll squeal admirably."

Stahl and Hyatt chuckled.

"Lord Stahl, Lord Hyatt," a man with dark curly hair addressed. Valdis recognized him as the man who had smiled at her in Murtagh's tent.

"Lord Rohm."

The men saluted each other and bowed sharply.

"Kreeve is being interrogated by His Majesty the Prince but he encourages you in the mean time to deliver the supplies requested to the infirmary tents."

"Interrogating, milord?"

Lord Rohm leaned around the tall shoulders of Stahl and Hyatt to see her.

"Yes, milady. You're supplies are not the first to have gone missing."

"Does His Majesty think that these missing supplies were to go to the Varden?" asked Stahl holding open a tent flap for them to enter through.

"Yes, and I wouldn't be surprised to discover that they are all supplies missing from Kreeve's encampment."

"Excuse my terrible manners, milady. I am Lord Rohm, second in command of His Majesty the Prince's army."

"I'm his mistress," Valdis replied honestly.

The men chuckled as they moved around the tent which was crammed with items ranging from bolts of cloth to copper pots and pans.

"I understand that is only a recent acquisition," Rohm grunted as he threw aside a crate, "There's your medicine."

"Only a moment ago actually," Valdis side stepped an air born carpet.

"I admit I am rather surprised that the Prince would suddenly take an interest in having a mistress, _now_ of all times."

"During a battle?"

Rohm nodded.

"She bargained with the Prince and he turned the tides on her," grunted Stahl as he helped Hyatt move a barrel.

"Oh really?" Rohm seemed rather interested and leaned in a pile of more crates he had just uncovered.

"I was petitioning the Prince for barrels of water that had gone missing from the infirmary."

"You are a healer?"

Valdis nodded.

"Did you think she was one of those camp whores? She would be the cleanest and prettiest one."

"As well as well mannered."

Rohm chuckled as he turned back to the crates.

"You seem rather young to be a healer, milady."

"I'm not actually a healer, I just happen to be good at taking care of people who bleed and swear."

A stomach twisting squeal from outside the tent made Valdis turn around.

"Looks like you got your wish, brother," said Hyatt dryly.

"Shall we see the rise and fall of one of our own?"

The men had gathered the barrels of water and the medicine to sit in a pile amidst all the chaos.

"You men there! Take those piled items inside to the infirmary tents. Move or I'll have your heads!"

The men that Rohm had barked at were barely Valdis' age yet they scurried past them with mumbled thanks.

Men of all rank were walking briskly through the aisles of tents to light that seemed to gather at the middle of the encampment. Another yell of pain broke the silence and made Valdis stop suddenly but she was pulled forward by her arm. Rohm had taken hold of her by the elbow and was making his way with her through the crowd. Stahl and Hyatt glared at him in a disapproving way.

"Let this be a warning to all of you! That crimes against the crown will not go unpunished!"

A sharp snap of a whip and a scream.

"There will be no empathy to traitors!"

A harsher snap of a whip and a howl.

"Break you oaths of fealty and this will be the punishment!"

"Who's speaking?" Valdis whispered to Hyatt.

"Can you not see?"

She shook her head and Hyatt looked down at her with a twisted short of face.

"Do you…_want…_to see?"

Valdis nodded and pushed through the crowd with Hyatt making room for her. She saw that there was a wooden dais that had been constructed and Prince Murtagh stood upon it in a glory of black armour and silver steel. He held within his hand a long leather whip. He stood at the edge of the dais, furthest from her with a look of great anger upon his face. What she saw next though made her eyes widen in horror.

Kreeve had been stripped naked and knelt in puddles of his own blood that were created from the gashes across his back. He was a blubbering begging mess of snot and tears and looked extremely pitiful.

"Do any of you have loyalty to this traitor?"

There a murmur of no's and the soldiers that had gathered shook their heads.

"Do any of you know this traitor?"

There was a chorus of loud hisses and booing.

"Then do any of you want _mercy _for this traitor?" Murtagh roared.

"NO!" came the barbaric cry from the crowd and Murtagh lashed Kreeve again.

Valdis had no sympathy for Kreeve. But she did hold great sympathy for the slobbering bleeding excuse for a man in front of her. She made a motion to move forward but it was a short lived thought. Hyatt had been holding onto her belt and her struggles were ignored by the jeering crowd who cheered louder for every single lash that Murtagh gave Keeve. Despite the anger that Murtagh seemed to display, Valdis could not help but feel that the anger wasn't directed at anyone but rather it was anger with himself.

When Kreeve gave out a final cry and lay slack against the wood they had chained him to the soldiers cried out in approval and gave cheers for the prince and his long life. Valdis saw however some of the men who did not cheer, or wish the prince a long life. But rather, they stood and stared with bleak expressions on their faces at what was before them. Valdis tugged on the spauldron of Hyatt's shoulder.

"I want to go…_now_," Valdis said thickly.

Hyatt looked down at her and saw that she had turned her face away from him and away from the dais.

He turned and tugged her through the thickening mob.

Valdis left just before a man in the crowd suggested that they brand the traitor.

"My apologies, mistress Valdis, I should not have allowed you to see that."

Valdis waved him off impatiently as she walked a few steps ahead of them. She didn't want them to see her as she fought with herself.

"I need to make it back to the infirmary tents and check on a few of the men. Some of their bandages will need to be replaced."

Stahl and Hyatt saluted her and bowed sharply. They waited until she had disappeared around one of the tents a few paces in front of them until they made to follow her.

* * *

><p>"Drink," Valdis cooed to the soldier on the ground.<p>

The soldier gave a weak murmur of thanks before his head fell limp against the ground.

"Is he dead?" croaked a bent over man whose face reminded Valdis of a rocky cliff face.

"Not yet, Master Digger. There are a few in the corner though."

The old man shuffled off enthusiastically and Valdis wondered how anyone could love making graves as he did. He toyed with death and it rewarded him. The Prince's magicians seemed greatly miffed that their great skills were stooping so low as to heal soldiers yet Valdis was pleased to see that they wouldn't rest until they had completely healed every soldier that they cared for. Even if they considered it beneath them and their great power they still performed their tasks with all intents of thoroughness.

Water was dispensed, the magicians had cared for nearly a quarter of the fifty men in the tent and the Prince had kept his promise. It was time Valdis kept hers.

Standing relieved the cramping in her legs and she took a moment to stretch them by walking around in the tent and checking for soiled bandages.

"Mistress Valdis," a pair of voices rose in unison.

Valdis turned to see a pair of twins whose heads where bald and wore colorful orange robes. Valdis also noted that they had no eyebrows.

"We have completed our work."

"You have my thanks then and the thanks of the men that you have saved. Your great prowess with magic has once again proved your talents in the arts."

The Twin's eyes seemed to gleam at the comment.

"We will be sure to check on some of the men later," on Twin remarked with a hint of humor, "They are still weak yet."

Valdis nodded and fell into a low curtsy. Her neck crammed and her cramped legs protested but the Twins patted her head as they past and murmured blessings with a somewhat haughty air of authority about them. When Valdis stood she noted that they seemed to glide over the ground and she involuntarily shivered.

"Creepy ain' they?" Master Gravedigger commented, "Who doesn' 'ave eyebrows?"

He shuffled over to a wheel barrow and Valdis realized with slight horror that a dead soldier had been folded in two on his side to fit in it.

"'Ave a good evnin', _Mistress _Valdis," he gave a suggestive wink which made Valdis cringe and pushed off with the wheelbarrow. Despite his usual limp, his stride seemed enthusiastic at the prospect of a burial.

Valdis entered the Prince's tent and her stomach fluttered in relief when the Murtagh was not there.

"His Majesty the Prince would like us to inform you that he will be joining you shortly and you have until then to make yourself ready for him."

The tent was rounded and made of thicker quilted material than the other tents. There was a hole dug into the ground were a small fire blazed and warmed the air and the tent was scattered with large pillows of velvet and silk and a bed of all things was to the right side of her which was piled with a thick and airy looking eiderdown. It was luxurious and indulgent for a military camp but the prospect of sleeping warm and fed was more than enough to make Valdis grudgingly walk to a wash stand in the far side of the tent and picked up a gown deep brown velvet that had been draped over the side of a chair.

It was lined inside with silk of the same rich color, like field of earth after rain.

She sat at the chair and observed the reflection in the hammered metal of the mirror. Her hair was falling out of the plait she had braided that morning and her skin was clean, she was over all pleased that she looked presentable but splashed her face with water anyways. The camp was silent and there wasn't a single wind to disturb he drapes of the tent.

Valdis continually gazes at the tent flap and with an annoyed sigh pulled out the plait and ran her fingers through her hair. It fell down her shoulders and Valdis thought there was no use in putting it up again if all she was going to do was ruin it with bed play. She flushed at the thought and smiled.

The Prince was very handsome. With dark eyes and dark hair and tall frame. He exuded a calm reassured air that nonetheless held the power to become deadly and frightening. He seemed to always be hiding secrets in the shadows that seemed to surround him and it was enticing. Touching the gown that sat warming her lap Valdis thought more of the Prince and what she had seen. What she had seen him do…

Valdis shook her head brushing away the thoughts of Kreeve and the whip that had been in Murtagh's hand. She looked down at the beautiful and simple gown and stood to put it on. It was heavy yet it hung comfortably on her shoulders and laced snuggly across her breasts. It swished when she walked and she turned this way and that just to hear it. She had never worn anything this grand and planned for a few moments to enjoy the feeling before it was stripped off.

"What shall I do with him, your majesty?"

"What usually happens," Murtagh growled shrugging on his blood stained cloak.

The soldier bowed and with a sharp hack of his sword a massive carcass that remotely resembled a man fell to the dirt with a rough slither and left a red smear on the post it had been chained to. The soldier wound the chains around his wrist and yanked hard. A low moan emitted from the carcass and with a growl the soldier wrenched against the chains again pulling the former Major General Kreeve behind him in a bloody wake through the tent and into plain sight of the entire company of soldiers.

There was a thrill running through his veins that made his stomach twist and bile rise in his throat. What he had just done was something that a monster had done, yet if he hadn't Galbatorix would have questioned the ease at which a traitor of the empire had been forgiven and Murtagh would have paid in his own blood. It was either the fat, slobbering, miserable excuse of a leader or Murtagh. The son of Morzan the Rider and traitor or a greedy hog.

The choice seemed obvious.

The thought eased the sickness in Murtaghs stomach and the prospect of company and a warm bed made his stride quicker. He ignored the stares of the men at the sight of his bloody armour and made his way to his tent. The guards saluted and directed him respectfully.

"Mistress Valdis is inside, your majesty."

When he entered the tent she was sitting on a pile of cushions her size in front of the fire pit. When she saw him she rose and a waterfall of earthy velvet spilled down to pool at her feet. Her skin was rosy in the firelight and when Murtagh felt a bulge grow he knew he had chosen a bed mate that might satisfy him.

"You're covered in blood."

Murtagh began to remove his armour.

"Is it Kreeve's?"

He had worked off the plating and his chest was bare. Valdis paused briefly for a moment to admire the contours of his shoulders. As he worked she could see the lean muscles of his back pull and tug beneath the dark skin. She licked her lips and fought a smile.

"Should I take that charming blush as a compliment, Mistress Valdis?"

She ducked her head but she followed his movement around the fire as he walked to her. He examined her closely and ran a finger along the side of her face, down her neck and slowly across the top of her breasts. He admired the swell with careful fingers and then closed the space between them to slowly untie the lacing down her side. Her breathing hitched when his fingers touched the thin fabric of her shift and he snaked an arm through the gown to take her by the waist. Valdis licked her lips again and looked up at him through dark lashes. His eyes were fierce and set upon her and she felt the heat from his body seep through the gown. She lifted her arms to push away the straps of the gown and it fell with a thick plop onto the floor. Hesitantly she nudged the shift and it fell to the floor.

She was completely naked in front of him and she fought hard to keep her breathing.

"Your Majesty, how like you this?"

His eyes blazed at the sight of shadowed flames licking their way up her thighs and soft stomach. He was suddenly very overcome and kissed her firmly, harshly. Valdis struggled to follow the rhythm of his lips and he fisted a hand in her hair. They broke away in a gasp and she scratched her nails down the hard plains of his stomach. Murtagh shivered and growled biting down on her throat and sucking at the flesh hungrily.

Valdis worked away the small laces of his breeches and they whipped against her fingers harshly. Murtagh had her so firmly around the waist that she was on her tip toes. She was pressed against one of his bare legs and she felt the heat of him pressed against her inner thigh. She let her head fall back and she growled when Murtagh bit hard against her throat.

She ran her hands through his hair while he trailed and searching hand down her spine and along the contours of her lower back, His hand ran down the length of her thigh till it reached the crease of her knee. He knelt slightly to reach it and hooked his fingers so he could lift her. Valdis wrapped her legs around his waist gasped when he pressed her against one of the tent poles. He ran his teeth along her collarbone pinned one of her wrists behind her the other gripped the pole to hold him steady while he thrust. Valdis gritted her teeth and pressed her head firmly against the wooden pole and shut her eyes.

It wasn't nearly as painful as she thought it would be.

Murtagh thrust again harder this time and Valdis let out a gasp of surprise. Pleasure so intense coursed through that she had reached up behind her and gripped the pole to pull herself up more against Murtagh's body.

He was hot and fevered and Valdis was becoming dizzy. She was holding her breath as he pressed against her. Her toes curled and her legs locked tighter around his waist. Murtagh was groaning and with a sharp intake of breath he thrust again Valdis let out a strangled cry and her eyes were squeezed shut.

Murtagh yanked her away from the pole and they collapsed on the bed of furs with a harsh groan from each of them. Valdis kissed Murtagh furiously and she pushed up with her hips to meet his. He could come down on her harder like this and greater pleasure than before ran rampant through his veins. Murtagh grunted and held down Valdis by her arms, her nails scratched into the skin of his shoulders. Murtagh hissed in pain while Valdis arched under him.

Valdis pushed against Murtagh's leg and he lost his balance, she flipped him over and Murtagh growled at her. She struck him across the face and raked her nails across his cheek. She grinned wickedly in her pleasure and she lowered herself onto him with a satisfied hiss.

Murtagh tried to contain a growl but he sounded strangled. His head was rested on the pillows and his eyes were closed. His neck was arched as Valdis rode him slow and solid. She tried to grind herself onto him as hard as she could. She could feel Murtagh tense beneath her and she squeezed. Her hair now loose and wild whipped back and forth with her movements tickling her bare skin. Valdis bit her lip so harshly that she tasted blood against her tongue. She licked her lips and shuddered as Murtagh thrust his hips up into her. He bucked and she laughed in delight. Murtagh gave a wicked grin and grabbed a fistful of her hair, he yanked down on the silky tresses and she fell to her back.

Murtagh mounted her quickly and threw her legs over his shoulders. Valdis watched him through hazy eyes as he pressed down against her and their tongues fought each other. She bit his lip and he let out a deep rumbling growl that Valdis could feel. The tops of her thighs were pressed against her breasts and when Murtagh thrust again Valdis let out a sharp cry of pleasure. It was so intense she saw silver through her vision and her hand fisted in the furs she lay on.

She was sure every soldier in the encampment heard them when the finished and Valdis lay against the smooth furs stunned and gasping with Murtagh resting against her belly. She could feel everything it seemed with a heightened sensitivity; the heat of the fire, the cool night breeze seeping through the linen of the tent, and every hair of fur brushing against the skin of her back and thighs. Her breathing slowed and she felt warm and tired. Murtagh's breathing had slowed and matched the rise and fall of Valdis' belly. He breathed silently and strongly with deep calm breaths. Valdis rested a hand in his hair and twirled the dark strands between her fingers. There was still a rush through her veins that delighted her and lulled her into a fitful dreamless sleep…

* * *

><p>Murtagh felt a distant stroking on his hair and though too weary to give a small smile the touch pleased him nonetheless. His head was comfortably rested on something soft that slowly rose and fell, like the calm swells of the sea. He wearily opened his eyes when something cool drifted across his hot back. He lifted his head and something trailed down from the top of it to his shoulder and then to the fur bed.<p>

It was Valdis' hand he realized that had been stroking his hair. He had been resting on her belly and her legs were parted and slightly bent to accommodate his chest. Her supple thighs brushed his torso and the shapely rounded toes of her feet just barely brushed his outer thighs. All in all, Murtagh surmised, it was not bad way to fall asleep. Sleep tugged at his eyes and with a mumbled word the fire stoked itself and burned hotter yet not brighter.

Murtagh gazed at Valdis and tilted his head. Her chestnut hair was spilled across the pillows like a forest of seaweed and her pretty face was relaxed and dewy with their play. Murtagh was surprised that he felt the heat of desire slowly pulse to life again. He had been sated it seemed for the present, yet still desired more of the woman who lay beneath him. He fitted himself comfortably between her legs again and let the slightly prickly stubble of his cheeks brush against the small swell of her belly. He closed his eyes and let the rise and fall of her breathing lull him into sleep.


	2. Murtagh Kullfoe

_SHOUT OUT: Thank you "Hidden In Sunlight" for the AHHMAZING review! My iPhone went "bling!" and woke me up and I looked at my email. Your review was sitting there patiently with it's fantastic compliments and I was roused from sleep with a renewed fervor to do a companion piece! Thank you for being so sweet! I am honored that its your favorite, that is the one thing no one has ever told me and I was humbled to tears when I read it! 3_

_xXthenextbookwormXx Thank you for the request for a companion piece, I couldn't have done it without your encouragement and your "waxing philosophical"-ness! You were a true delight to speak to and I hope that we still can keep in touch and wax philosophical some more! 3_

AN: Sorry for the wait! I wasn't anticipating a Murtagh one shot frenzy from fans but I can't disappoint you so here we go! On to some smexy Murtagh and battles and duels and big scary speeches by some crazy Urgals. ;) Read on to see what Countess Cadhla has cooked up for you!

"So the manner of authority doesn't matter to you so long as the people are taken care of?" Murtagh clarified with a deep crease in his brow.

"Yes. People forget that governments are in place to bring about peace and prosperity. Nobles forget that without people there are no governments, and without people governments cannot rule. It is all for them yet they are mistreated by the very thing that is supposed to care for them," Valdis said with disdain in her voice.

"It is a fair point, yet that leaves no room for the nobility," Murtagh pointed out doubtfully.

"Nobility is not in name, your majesty. Nobility is in here," Valdis touched her heart," and here," she touched her head, "Nobility lies in noble action. Awakening in the morning and deciding that today you will be a good man and do good things. What man is a man who does not make the world he lives in a better place?"

Murtagh nodded over her words and poured himself more wine, and his handsome brow furrowed as he thought for a moment.

"There is certainly truth in that," he admitted honestly, "Yet you said yourself, that you had no care for the manner of rule over the people."

"I do not care if the Varden rules or if the empire does," Valdis with slight exasperation, "All I see is the suffering of those who are caught in between. Nothing else matters but the lives that are constantly put at risk because one side does not agree with the other. Its madness!" and she threw up her hands in frustration, "It should be sorted out between one leader and the other leaving everyone else who just wants to be home alone."

Murtagh nodded again and cocked his head to the side.

"I could have you arrested for treason for saying that you would _not mind_ the _Varden ruling_," yet his tone, though serious, was and playful and his dark eyes glittered.

"I said I _wouldn'_t care, and it's true," Valdis shrugged dramatically with the exposed shoulder of her gown so that the Rider could see the angles of her collar bone, "So far I see the empire taking care of its soldiers yet the taxes are raised. Why? Because of this war. Crops are neglected and not picked. Why? Because the men cannot return home, and I doubt that a single woman and her children could do much to keep up the land that is meant to be tilled by their husbands and brothers."

"Authority must be established," Murtagh said firmly, "Without authority the world outside of this tent would be plunged into chaos. The stronger the centrality of the government the stronger the fist that rules the land, and the more that the people are kept in order. The cases of examples as you have seen are extreme for a purpose, _to maintain order_. To instill, if need be, fear of a ruler. You cannot take chances, not ever."

"The extremes of example?" Valdis asked confused, "What such examples do you mean?"

"When I was disciplining Kreeve," Murtagh said and his eyes grew dim and deep.

"When you were _beating _and _humiliating_ Kreeve," Valdis clarified pouring more wine to him and as she leaned forward she was sure to press her arm close to the side so that her breasts would be pushed and fuller to Murtagh's wandering view. When she glanced up for a moment she saw him openly gazing at her. When Valdis sat back and placed the silver pitcher with a plunk on the low dark wood table she flushed with pleasure but took a breath to steady her wits. As much as she desired to simply straddle the man and talk no more she was eager for Murtagh answer.

"It was an extreme example that was a necessity to be set," Murtagh continued with the slightest degree of gruffness in his voice.

Valdis sat straighter and wondered if the gruffness was caused because of the sight of her flesh. Yet she regarded the Rider with suspicion to mask her hopefulness.

"Most people saw, your _extreme example_, your majesty," and Valdis thought for a moment. IT made perfect sense that an example should be displayed from time to time to remind people of why they followed the rules that they did. It would cease the gripping of bitter men with the display of guilty blood. You would show the punishment of one man to prevent the punishment of a hundred more. It was something that she agreed with the more she thought about it.

"But do you think it is?"

"Watching a public beating?" Valdis said.

"Beating a man till he's nothing. Dragging him off to a tent on the outskirts of the encampment to whip him and brand him. To reduce him to nothing but a bloody mass of flesh and lies," Murtagh said levelly his eyes glinted in the fire light and when the fire cracked it made Valdis jump slightly. Murtagh had not moved and seemed to not breathe as he leaned in to Valdis. Valdis weighed her answer carefully; she had been repulsed with the sight of the Kreeve that night. A quick death should have been given instead of an agonizing evening of pain and humiliation. Yet she saw the sense of Murtagh's actions and though she wished less blood could be shed, she knew it was necessary.

"Were peoples' lives in danger?" Valdis asked with a collected voice that she was proud to say didn't waver.

"Yes," Murtagh answered promptly with steel in his eyes.

"Did you save them by whipping that man?"

"_Yes_."

"Then what's the crime?" Valdis asked coldly and she sipped her wine which had likewise taken on a wintery chill. Murtagh bit into his apple and a trail of juice spilled down his chin. Valdis crawled forward and whisked it away with her thumb and held the Rider's chin in her hand.

"If he was betraying his own men, then he was no man himself. If he was doing it for greed then he was letting his own men suffer. Tell me mighty Rider, how many men did Kreeve command?"

"Twelve thousand five hundred men at his command."

"One death and _thousands were saved_," Valdis let her fingers fall to the base of his throat and twined her fingers around the strings of his tunic,_ "_Sometimes we must do a little evil to do a greater good, your majesty. It's never easy but it is always necessary," though she herself thought little of excessive cruelty she would have tortured Kreeve herself if it had saved lives.

"You would know such things?" Murtagh whispered doubtfully.

"Everyone has blood on their hands, your majesty. It's war."

* * *

><p><em><strong>One Week Later…<strong>_

Murtagh didn't hide is confused expression as the Urgal in front of him made noises similar to that of a strangling goat. He finished with a rotted toothy nod and Murtagh turned his head to the Twins for translation.

"He says he wants to rip you apart."

Murtagh could hear Thorn's growling behind him and the Urgal shifted uncomfortably. Murtagh allowed the corners of his mouth tug at his cheeks in a grin. The Urgal stepped forward menacingly and gestured widely with his bulky arms to himself and then to Murtagh. The Urgal beat his chest and roared and then stamped his feet in a great tantrum. He put his claws together and made a motion that slowly pulled at the distance between them.

"He still wants to tear me apart," Murtagh guessed while his right hand itched for the hilt of his sword.

"Yes, your majesty," The Twins seemed delighted at the idea which made Murtagh's usually cool temper flare.

"Tell him that if he wants to rip me apart-"

"-tear, your majesty, he said tear-"

Murtagh's jaw clenched in annoyance.

"If he wants to _tear_ me apart he will have to go through an angry fire breathing dragon that will sharpen his claws by splitting him balls to brains to see what foul things he is made of."

The soldiers in the tent sneered at the comment and Murtagh allowed the feeling of vindictive satisfaction to settle his stomach as he waited for The Twins to answer back in strangled goat.

_It's more like strangled bull, _Thorn mused.

Murtagh watched the Urgal as he received the news and the creatures horns began to quiver. He suddenly turned to one of his comrades at the proclamation and slugged him in the face in anger. He turned to Murtagh and began an angry tirade of howling and guttural roaring that made Murtagh's ears pop. The Urgal was no doubt speaking harshly of Murtagh who sat calmly yet stiffly in his chair on the small dais. The Urgal spat harshly on the ground and swung his chipped battle axe around in the air which his comrades did best to avoid.

"He says that he will not do you the warrior's honor of burning you. He will gouge out your eyes. Then he will let maggots eat your stomach and let the crows pick your rotting flesh and the sun will dry out your bones," The Twins said smiling with their voices coated in mocking sweetness.

The Urgal spoke in his garbled language again nodding his head and baring his teeth and he made a gesture to every soldier around him then jabbed a gnarled finger at Murtagh with a satisfied sneer on his face.

"What else does the creature vomit?" growled Murtagh who was suddenly itching for a brawl.

"He says that he will rape the mate of every man here. Then he will take your mate and make you watch as he rapes her."

The men that had wives drew their swords with oaths of bloodshed and vengeance and readied themselves in defensive stances.

"I will die before he dishonors my family," said a captain who Murtagh knew had married the beauty of his village. The Urgal regarded the man that stepped forward with the annoyance that one has for an fly on meat and the Urgal spoke a few words that made his comrades growl and nudge each other in what Murtagh could not help to feel was approval.

"He says he will kill you and then dishonor your wife on top of your corpse," The Twins translated gleefully. Murtagh's temper flared and his grip on the chair dented the finely polished wood, yet his face was cool and collected. Yet anger and passion flowed through him like rapids. He rose suddenly and stepped to the edge of the dais with a hand wrapped around his sword for comfort. Murtagh pointed with is left hand to the Urgal who stood feet from him on the dirt, yet even on the dais Murtagh was eye level with the seven foot Urgal.

"Tell this _fetid_, _smooth tongued_, _in breeder_ that if he does not show respect to those who balance his life on the edge of a knife I will make him watch his mate meet the same fate as those of diseased dogs."

The Twins composure visibly flickered in annoyance which somehow pleased Murtagh and he knew that he was now on equal vulgar terms. The Twins repeated Murtagh's speech with less enthusiasm to their translations as they had before.

Murtagh watched smugly as the Urgal's nostrils began to flare and the Urgal companions began to shift feet impatiently in the dirt, kicking up small puffs of brown smoke. Murtagh could not help but think that they looked like manic bulls ready to charge at the next sign of movement or a command…

The Urgal took a moment to swallow a large rock in his throat and with a jerky movement he nodded and barreled out of the tent taking a pole with him that had caught in his horns. The soldiers in the room laughed at him as he left.

_He just threw over a fire pit and a tent. _Thorn commented dryly and in Thorn's mind Murtagh could see the fuming Urgal as he barreled past the tents.

_I think the laughter of your men was more insulting to him than anything, little one._

_I couldn't stop them from laughing when I also found it amusing._

_Yes, and at someone's expense._

Murtagh's mind flickered with annoyance and exasperation.

_When did you become a kitten and not a dragon? _Murtagh demanded.

_When did you become as cold and bloody as the steel you wield? _

When Murtagh stormed into his tent Valdis was quick to rise from her place on a lounging couch that was smothered in a ridiculous amount of furs and dropped the book she had been reading to floor. She observed Murtagh and was sensitive enough to feel the waves of tumultuous anger rolling off of him in poisonous waves that choked like heavy perfume. Not knowing what to say Valdis stood silently and as still as stone. He was a dangerous young man and in a possibly violent temper. He was a hunter and a warrior who knew violence and bloodshed as sure ways to acquire what was desired. Killing could clear his mind and put things into perspective.

Valdis preferred to have her head attached to her neck and shoulders.

She stood perched at the opposite side of the chaise wary as the sparrow at the sight of a snake.

Murtagh's eyes in the mirror of the wash stand were flint and black, the calculating eyes of the serpent.

Valdis dared to only take little breaths and she remained calm and impassive with an aura she hoped appeared patient and undemanding.

"The Urgals are proving to be most difficult to deal with," Murtagh summarized which Valdis knew was for her benefit.

"Would killing them be too much political trouble?" Valdis asked with the lightest hints of carefree spirit. She attempted to appeal to his warring battle hardened attitude of the moment. If he examined the suggestion it would be easier to chastise _her_ for the tactless political folly rather than realize that he been thinking the same.

He would leave the tent with a clear head and a bulging ego and not realize that by prompting what he wanted, Valdis had stealthily showed him the error of his blood thirsty thinking without him even knowing it. She could return to her book with a self knowing smile and enjoy the sudden little things that were twice as pleasurable with the sneaky victory. The grapes would be sweeter, the silk against her skin would be softer, the book would yield more entertaining ideas and she could flush and laugh to herself at the thought of the gloriously sinful night she would surely spend with a Rider between her thighs.

"Much too much trouble unfortunately," Murtagh growled turning his anger subsiding slightly with Valdis' bloody suggestion. He shrugged in his armour which seemed to be heavier to him at the moment and Valdis stepped around the chaise slowly and reached for his side where she removed his sword.

Murtagh jerked suddenly at her reaching for the weapon but when he realized that she meant only to remove it and not kill him with it he eased and let her work on the leather strapping's and steel buckle's that held his armour in place. She worked at them as quickly as she could and soon the plate armour was off his shoulders and he rolled them to test his movement. Pleased with the stretching and the release of the pressure he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the pillows.

Valdis read his movements and knew he was tired and desired nothing more than to lie down and sleep. She stepped over to him and he looked up at her with a slightly furrowed brow that questioned her motives. Valdis tilted her head and smiled and bent to take the edges of his mail and pull it over his head. It was heavy and shiny but she draped it over the chaise and pulled off his leather gloves and plopped them on the low dark wood table.

Valdis paused for a moment to get his attention and then slowly knelt suggestively. Murtagh regarded her with a flickering of eyes as her hands rested on his thighs but she reached over to his boots and began to undo the buckles there as well. His strong hands stopped her.

"Wine…please," he added oddly and Valdis nodded and stood using his knee for support. Something that despite being casual and unisexual made his nerves jump in sensitive places. As she poured him a cool glass of wine Murtagh removed his boots himself and watched Valdis.

Her chestnut hair was only halfway pinned to her head in a braid and the rest fell in waves past her shoulders. She wore one of the simpler gowns of the three that Murtagh had given her which suited her for the days when she was left to do as she wanted. The ruby brocade set off the gold tones of her hair and made her eyes appear lighter like honey. For such elegant cloth it was simply cut to ghost upon the floor with every step, to encase her arms long and small, and with its square cutting about the neck and shoulders accentuate her breasts which were firmly pushed up and held tightly in place by the black strings of the dress's bodice. All in all, she was very appealing in a way that was comforting, pretty and youthful with an air of grace and, dare

Murtagh think it or even say it, majesty. She handed him the wine and took the goblet from him when he had finished. With a firm but gentle push of her hand he leaned back onto the bed and rested comfortably on his back. She hitched up her dress to join him and nestled herself comfortably against his chest with her head on his shoulder.

Lavender enticed the air in his lungs and Murtagh knew that she must use it in her hair. It was soothing to him and when he opened his mouth to speak to her gentle fingers touched his lips in such a way that Murtagh started in surprise. It was hardly an outright command for him to be quiet. Yet it was such a delicate and simple gesture that Murtagh was confused as to the meaning of it. He tried to speak again but her fingers lifted and rested against his lips as they had the first time. The meaning was clear now: silence. It didn't anger Murtagh, yet the tender gesture confused him.

_I hardly understand which part confuses you._

Murtagh resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

_What does she mean?_

_All you wanted today was time in silence, undisturbed._

_Yes, and?_

_You have it now. I approve with it being spent your mate. It was time you look outside bloodshed and war. I grow weary of it. It pleases me that you have found such an amiable female. She will bear strong offspring I should think-_

_Children!_

Murtagh panicked, clearly Thorn did not understand the term of mistress.

_It's perfectly clear, little one," _growled Thorn,_ "I'm not ignorant of what it means when your thoughts become hot and tangled and your vision blurs to stars in pleasure."_

_Humans do not always bed people simply to have children, _Murtagh explained rather miffed with Thorn and slightly embarrassed at their chosen topic of discussion.

_Clearly, _Thorn commented dryly, _It's to my understanding that females of your race are not constantly fertile, yet you mate with your female constantly as though she is._

Murtagh's eyes bulged in horror.

_Thorn!_

_She would bear you strong offspring, little one. Thought it is not entirely my affair to approve of who you choose-_

_-It isn't-_

_-I approve of her. You could do much worse._

_Could I do better? _Murtagh challenged.

_No. It's a miracle you found a mate who is tempered enough to your moods and…tastes…in mating ritual. Dragons do not have as many positions as human's do-_

_I'm tired. Goodnight._

Thorn was smug and pleased with the conversation.

_You seem to please her quite…thoroughly. I never thought that humans could growl like dragons-_

_-Thorn-_

_- especially females. You have more animal in you than your race cares to think-_

_-__**Thorn**_- Murtagh warned with a raised brow.

Valdis suddenly touched his lips again and Murtagh could almost see Thorn's surprise as his thoughts stop and he observed Valdis through his Rider's connection. Valdis' hand gently slipped to the side of Murtagh's shaved cheek and he felt the smooth tips of her fingers run along the skin.

"Sleep, Rider," Valdis murmured gently she herself already slipping into the dark oblivion of rest. It was warm and soft next to the Rider though he himself was strength and muscle. Something that was firm and hard and ever steady. She felt the heat of Murtaghs thigh seep into the crimson brocade and touch the skin of her own legs, shivering but not with cold, she shifted her right leg and hoisted it just a little more to drape over the top of his thigh. Growing bolder she draped her leg completely over his leg so her calf was between his legs and her knee was curved around his thigh. Her center was pressed against his hip and she shifted deeper into his chest and let her arms and hands conform to the hard muscles of his chest.

It pleased her that Murtagh did not push her away. It meant that she was pleasing him and when she did the soldiers who were wounded in campaigns were well cared for. The combined weight of the both of them sank them into the bed and the furs around their bodies curved around the edges of their skin warming them and brushing against them. She was bathed in warmth and Valdis found sleep in moments, though it felt to her as an eternity.

Murtagh stared down at her with a confused and somewhat startled expression. She had curled up to him and made warmth fill his skin. When she had thrown her leg over his and her knee curved beneath her gown and she had pressed herself against him, he had flushed with a flash of fire and had wanted to kiss her slowly and fully. He wanted to touch and mold her beneath his fingers and consume her with his mouth and body until she fainted.

_Do human females sleep so close to males who they do not consider to be mates with? _Thorn asked with the slightest hint of smugness.

_Thorn? _Murtagh asked in a mental voice that was so low and calm that for a moment Thorn had a flicker of panic.

_Yes?_

_Goodnight._

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Next Day…<strong>_

Murtagh sat on the dais with his plate armour shined and polished so finely that anyone who stood ten feet from him could see their own image with near perfection. The Urgals had stood in front of him with expressions that were unmistakably sneers at their last encounter. Though the traded insults had eventually been barely won by Murtagh the Urgals still considered it a great victory that they had been a match for the Rider.

This time Murtagh had the upper hand.

With a peaceful nights rest he had awoken not only with a ravenous appetite from his lack of dinner the night before but also with a mind boiling with ideas. While slaves brought hot water for a bath Murtagh watched Valdis as she rolled in sleep to the place where Murtagh had been laying just moments ago.

It pleased him.

It also reminded him of something she had said the night before.

"_Would killing them be too much political trouble?"_

It would if it was unprovoked.

_Are you sure this is wise, little dragon? _Thorn asked.

_No, but it's the only way I can think of to speed along these negotiations. I have to shut them into submission._

_The king has not kept his promises of land for the Urgals._

_He never planned to._

Though it made Murtagh's stomach twist at the revolting actions that would support the king's displacement of the Urgals it was something that had to be done. The Urgals could easily retaliate and rampage throughout the land, perhaps burn Teirm or Gil'ead. A revolt that would cost hundreds of lives was easier to stop than simply going along with the king's false promises.

The Twins stood beside Murtagh with expressions Murtagh knew were their attempts at appearing dispassionate at the situation. He could sense with his mind the flurry of excitement that they did not try to quell.

"Translate," Murtagh commanded in a steady voice.

"Majesty," they bobbed in unison.

"You have been most troublesome to your gracious-," Murtagh nearly bit off his own tongue,-" majesty who has done nothing but serve and care for your peoples well being in his land. It saddens him that such bitterness runs through your veins and thought it pains him deeply to punish you has he gives you a chance of mercy."

Murtagh reached to his forearm and with a lazy flick of his fingers undid the buckles and straps.

He threw his gauntlet to the ground.

The room was silent yet the air crackled with tension. The Urgal leader looked down at the gauntlet on the floor and then slowly up to Murtagh who was waiting and strung tight as a bow. If someone had touched him his spine would have vibrated with a musical twang. The Urgal gave a curt nod and unsheathed his crude metal blade which had several chunks missing from the length of it.

Murtagh unsheathed his sword and held the weapon to his side.

"I accept your challenge, Fireblood," growled the Urgal in broken common tongue, "I will battle you in a warrior's way."

_Warriors way? _Thorn asked

_With honor, _Murtagh explained.

* * *

><p>Valdis was roused from sleep with a sharp shake to her shoulder. Hyatt stood over her with a grim expression on his face yet the air around him was filled with tension.<p>

"Mistress Valdis, you must awaken," Hyatt said hurriedly, "There is something that you must see."

Valdis rose alarmed and looked around her Murtagh was gone and the tent was void of his armour and his blade. She hastily pulled on her gown from the night before and lacing it as quickly as she could while Hyatt handed her a pair of sturdy walking boots.

"It rained during the night. Your fine slippers will be ruined in the mud."

Valdis appreciated the gesture and sat on the fur covered bed to yank on the boots. They fit surprisingly well.

Stahl entered the tent and he was breathless.

"It is starting, she must hurry if she wants to see."

"See what?" Valdis asked as Hyatt pulled her by her waist through the tent she blanched for a moment at the war horse picketed outside and panicked when Stahl crouched and cupped his hands in front of him.

"I don't know how to ride."

Hyatt nudged her forward and gave her a push about the waist while Stahl threw her leg over the saddle. The soon joined her on their own horses.

"It's easy, just don't panic."

They surged forward and Valdis clung to the reins and dug her knees into the horse's side they weaved through the throng of soldiers who were once again heading into the middle of the camp. There was a flurry of excitement again and every tent seemed to be open and empty of its occupants.

"If this is another public humiliation I will jump off this beast and go back to bed" growled Valdis angrily but she was rather afraid as t what she would soon discover.

"It's nothing of the sort, mistress. Move you!" Stahl ordered to a young boy who had run in front of his horse. Valdis was not keen on the motion of the horse and how powerful it felt underneath her, it frightened her and the unknown at which they trotted forward to meet made her empty stomach twist inside of her.

"His Majesty has informed you of his negotiations with the Urgals?" Hyatt said while Stahl created a path for them.

"More like troubles," growled wishing that her tired eyes would stay open.

"He decided to take a more forward action to silence them."

Valdis blanched at the possibilities, and her heart fluttered with nervous activity. She was wide awake at Hyatt's words and she listened to each in attentive detail.

"He challenged the Urgal leader, to a fight to settle the negotiations. Whatever party loses must agree unconditionally to the terms set by the winner."

"So one party gets everything and the other nothing?"

"Yes."

"What if the other decides death?"

Hyatt refused to say for a moment.

"Then the loser will greet death with not a word of protest from his lips."

Valdis could have screamed at that moment in sheer frustration. This was not how she wanted to wake up this morning. She wanted to be naked and content in Murtagh's tent with the warm Rider next to her.

Or on top of her.

Or underneath her if he insisted.

"That's insanity!" Valdis protested fuming. Hyatt could see past her anger and saw her distress even more so with her carefree appearance. Her hair wasn't confined to pins and braids but it was loose and wild tumbling down around her in a wild mane of chestnut. Her gown was not fully laced and her shift puffed out from underneath the red brocade. With the excitement and the cold morning air her cheeks and lips were flushed and red while her eyes glittered with apprehension. She was truly a sight to see and a very pretty one at that, but with her worry Hyatt questioned whether or not it had been wise to wake her.

"He could be killed! Do you know that Urgals torture humans? _For fun?"_ her voice was naturally soft and low though it raised a few octaves at the thought of what her lover would face.

Hyatt laughed as Stahl shouted at soldier to move away for them.

"Milady, you have never seen the Prince fight have you?"

Valdis shook her head.

"He is quicker than serpents, more cunning than wolves. He is ruthless and has no mercy for his enemies. He offers them no empathy and advantage. That is with his skill with a blade _alone. _They say he can do the darkest of magic's, conjure monsters that belong in the days of darkness and chaos. They say that he controls spirits of those long since dead-"

"That's sorcery, Hyatt, not magic."

Hyatt's face flickered with surprise at her correction but he shrugged.

"Then he's a sorcerer and a magician, and an unparalleled swordsman and his aim with a bow is fatal to any who are on the end of it. He's also a prince of all this land-"

"And a Rider."

"Aye, a Rider. Does an Urgal seem so frightening now?" Hyatt's eyes seemed to gleam but they stopped when they heard the noises ahead of them. The area in the middle of the encampment that used to house a dais was cleared and a large circle of muddy dirt filled the empty space. Murtagh stood in the middle of it in only half of his usual armour.

An Urgal taller than Valdis on the horse stood towering over Murtagh with a mighty metal blade of twisted metal scrape. Its teeth gleamed menacingly and Valdis suppressed a shiver at the thought of the blade eating at her flesh. Murtagh unsheathed his bastard sword with a flourish and glared over to the Urgal who bared his teeth and snarled, "Your skin will be my next belt, dragonling."

Murtagh ducked a blow and rolled underneath the Urgal's feet who was thrown forward slightly by the momentum of his own swing. Murtagh's face was hard set and grimy with smudges of dirt. As silly as she knew it was Valdis still thought him handsome and also incredibly egotistical, stupid, and brave.

She lightly tapped her heels on the side of the horse and it edged forward just before the crowd. Soldiers parted for her and gazed for a moment on her as she what went before them. She watched the brawl entranced and horrified at the same moment, Stahl took her reins and stopped her. He shook his head at her. If she went further she would be at the edge of the crowd and one wrong swing of the Urgals blade, or even Murtagh's would end her life before she could think to scream.

The Urgal was brawny and hefty but Murtagh was swift and sure of his movements. He struck quickly out to the Urgal with a flash of his blade and the Urgal held up a crude shield. The Urgal grunted and growled at the force of the blow and Murtagh smiled maliciously as the Urgal stumbled and looked at amazement at his arm which Valdis was sure had to be at least broken. The single blow alone had left a long impression in the shield yet it also nearly folded the thing in half by sheer force.

Valdis' heart eased and she took a deep breath as she watched the look of horror on the Urgals face. As much as she distrusted the Urgals, they were still breathing creatures. Yet she very much wanted Murtagh to strike the Urgal down-a simple head chop would do- and ride back with her to the tent. It was a childish want and rather hopeful she knew. Yet it set her mind at ease at the prospect that Murtagh might get out of this unscathed. He might even boast of it to her and drink to it, even this early in the morning. Her optimism was crushed however when she saw the blood trickling down the side of his face and staining his smooth cheek.

Other than his small wound he seemed to be drinking in the fight, reveling in the aggression and anger as though he were born for such brutal sport. He stood just a few strides from the Urgal with a sort of excited energy that made him bounce on his feet. He swung his sword in a circle to hear the blade whistle as it sliced through the air and ignored the blood that was dripping down his steel armour.

Murtagh would simply dodge the Urgal's blows by rolling and then quick as a snake strike he would be behind the Urgals exposed back lashing out with his sword to slice into the Urgal's thick skin which seemed to act as natural armour against every other blade.

Except Murtagh's.

Valdis was watching as the fight continued on for minutes and minutes. She was watching the Urgal with incredible focus, looking for a weakness in his fighting. The Urgal was brutal, a single blow to Murtagh's head would be fatal and a bash to his chest would cripple him. Murtagh had to keep his distance and out of reach from the muscled arms that were as thick as tree branches that would crush him in a few moments if he were in there grip. He dodged and swayed out and away from the blows, quick as a dancer he would lean out of the way of the Urgals fist or of his crude blade.

He was fast but he would miss the blow by a hairs breadth. Valdis could not breathe at any point of the skirmish and her mind raced with unparalleled concern. It was emotion was sudden as it flared through her chest and her heart ached. It could have been from her holding her breath or because the Urgals blade scratched Murtagh's cheek when he went in the same direction as the Urgal's back swing of his blade.

Murtagh tucked his sword across him as he rolled away from the sharp edges of the blade and staggered slightly at the glancing blow. He ignored the blood that trickled through his dark hair and stained his armour. Anger glittered in his sinister eyes and his nostrils flared, Valdis could see the muscle in his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth together. Valdis was relieved that he seemed to have a renewed vigor to stay alive.

Anger began to flare slightly in Valdis at Murtagh's stupidity. A duel? Of all things!

The Urgal barreled forward to Murtagh who flashed his sword in front of him to parry the swing of the Urgal's great blade. The Urgal and Murtagh struggled in the mud and Murtagh's feet began to lose purchase on the muddy ground beneath him. The Urgal jerked up and the edges of his twisted weapon caught on Murtagh's gauntlet ripping it off of his arm completely. The jagged teeth tore into his arm painfully, tearing the skin off. Murtagh let out a loud yell and with a twisted fall landed on his side while the Urgal roared at the spilt blood.

Murtagh's eyes shut and he groaned while he clutched his arm at the elbow. He was forbidden to use magic in the fight if it gave him the advantage, it was a battle with blades only and anything other than that was seen as cheating.

_Rise, little dragon. I chose a Rider who is stronger than this._

Murtagh rose to his feat steadily with a spark of anger at Thorn's comment and ignored the throbbing sharp pain. He did not look to see his torn arm which looked like butchered meat. He would address it later after he skinned the Urgal and hung his hide as a flag above his tent.

Thorn chuckled at his Murtagh's violent thoughts.

Murtagh swung his sword with a flourish and stood tall. Valdis took a breath to steady herself and held onto the reins more firmly when the horse she rode began to struggle after the Urgal gave a barbaric war cry as he swung heavily at Murtagh's head. With amazing strength he leapt up and twisted over the Urgal's head to be around his back, he swung as hard as he could to the back of the Urgal's small armour.

His sword sliced through the weak metal like it was wood and the Urgal gave a startling cry of pain as the blade sliced through the hide of his back. Murtagh felt vindictive pleasure course through him and he forgot the pain of his arm as the thrill of the fight took over his body. He circled the Urgal who knelt in the mud and kicked out his knees when he tried to rise. Black blood pooled from his mouth in a stream but the Urgal still bared his yellowed teeth.

Murtagh sheathed his bloodied sword and lifted his boot to place it on one of the Urgal's shoulders while he reached for one of its horns. With hard yanking and sickening twist the gnarled horn was removed and the Urgal growled and tried to swipe at the Rider. Murtagh lazily side stepped the thick burly arm and with a yell he planted the horn through the Urgal's throat and twisted it. Blood as black as ink squirted from the wound and over Murtagh's hand which was made slick.

The empire's soldiers threw their fists into the air as they cheered for their commander and Murtagh withdrew with a kick and stood tall with the blackened horn in hand while the corpse collapsed to the sludge with a thud. The soldiers hollered out to Murtagh who took a moment to hear what they shouted.

"Murtagh Kullfoe! Murtagh Kullfoe!"

To his surprise the dead Urgal's companions roared in unison and joined in the cheers but in their own guttural language.

"Gra Zhada! Gra Zhada!" they bellowed over the crowd with grinning faces displaying their sharp yellowed teeth. With what little Urgal Murtagh had learned he knew it meant Doom Horn.

Valdis had looked away at the final kill but she lifted her head to gaze at Murtagh who stood in the middle of the makeshift arena. He stood tall with his feet planted to the ground beneath him. He was a picture of death and darkness with a grotesque streak of dark blood staining his armour and face. His eyes were wild as he gazed on her. Murtagh's victorious stance weakened at the expression on Valdis' face. It was sad and resigned.

It was disappointment.

Valdis turned the horse and rode away leaving Murtagh with a feeling he had little experience with.

Shame.

* * *

><p><em>The Same Night…<em>

The silence was killing him more than the Urgal had tried to.

Valdis was straddled in Murtagh's lap in the steaming water of a tub holding his arm which he had healed after the Urgal's weapon had torn away the tanned flesh.

"There isn't even a scar," Valdis whispered softly as she ran her fingers along the skin.

"There is very little magic that challenges me."

_Little dragon. _Thorn chastised fondly, though he was chuckling as he said so.

Valdis washed his arm with a rag and remained silent.

Murtagh watched her behind a face of stone.

"Are you ill?" he asked finally.

Valdis gave a small unenthusiastic smile but shook her head.

"No, milord, you keep me very healthy. I am thankful for that."

"Have you received disturbing news then? Perhaps of your family?" his voice was level and calm as he said these things. Despite the fact that both of them were naked and resting against each other intimately there was very little heat between them except that of the steaming water.

"As far as I know, my mother is well and thriving in of her village."

"Then why are you sad? I lived through the duel. Does-," Murtagh paused and took a small breath, "Does that no please you?"

"I do not approve of violence as you know," Valdis said as she bathed his chest and tapped her fingers against the tan skin, "As to your question, it pleases me…_greatly…_that you are alive. I was concerned that you would not live."

"Concerned," Murtagh scoffed softly, and he turned his head but gently splashed Valdis. He chuckled when she laughed and covered her face but she hit him upside ahead with the soapy washcloth and he growled and pushed her back in the tub. Strands of her hair floated around her head in a dark hallow and she wrapped an arm around his neck to keep herself raised out of the water. They looked at each other for a moment and Murtagh felt surprising tenderness for the young woman in his arms.

Valdis touched Murtagh's face and traced the hairline where the Urgal's weapon had glanced him. He had healed that as well. Her finger tips felt the raised skin of his scar and she tilted her head to catch the light that reflected in Murtagh's eyes. Her fingers traced his jaw and fanned along his cheek. Murtagh saw the faintest traces of a smile on her face.

"All healed," she murmured.

"All healed," he agreed his dark eyes staring unflinchingly upon her, hungry.

"You look angry."

Murtagh tilted his head at her and he shifted his hips in the water, Valdis drew in a shaky breath and grew red.

"I see," she smiled.

"Yes," he answered darkly and he pressed his lips to hers. They did not move in their usual soft passionate rhythm, they simply rested against hers and Valdis found it more erotic in that moment then all the night's that she had spent with him, even some of the days. Her arm that had wrapped around his shoulders tightened and she arched in the water as he pulled her closer to him. Their limbs were slick with the water as they twined around each other like serpents, sliding through the water with ease till there was less of it in the tub and more of it on the floor.

Murtagh wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Hold on."

"Mhmm," Valdis murmured into their kiss and her voice tickled his lips, he stood and the water trailed down their bodies which seemed to glow in the fire light. He cautiously stepped out of the tub wobbling slightly on his leg which was still sore from the duel, Valdis giggled as they tumbled blindly over the pillows and collapsed on the furs.

Murtagh pushed Valdis up further on the bed; he peeled away her bathing smock from her thighs, shifted it up from her waist and stripped it away from her breasts and shoulders. Murtagh tossed it away in front of the fire and leaned over Valdis to swathe her body with his.

There were no more words between them.


	3. Moon & Sun, Forever One

"How much longer?" Valdis asked wearily to Hyatt as they rode along a road that winded across the plains near Gil'ead.

"Much longer, milady," Hyatt said with an edge in his voice as he adjusted in his saddle.

"What's wrong?"

Stahl rode up next to Valdis in a hurry and took the reins from her which her blistered hands were grateful for. She was not accustomed to hard riding on a horse, but rather a bumpy ride in a cart tending to wounded soldiers.

"Scouts have returned with news," Stahl said breathless with his furious gallop over to them, "They report that there may be a parties of the Varden up ahead of us."

"May be?" Valdis said drinking from her water skin greedily.

"They stay just over the horizon, out of sight."

"Cowards," Hyatt hissed and his eyes turned to the land up ahead of them, as if he would see the Varden there for himself.

"His Majesty has ordered that large scouting parties surround us a league apart in every direction and they send word if there is trouble."

"Would they really be this far west? Away from the Beor's or from Surda?"

Hyatt shrugged but Stahl nodded warily.

"Perhaps, if they are scouting."

"Perhaps it's slavers from the Hadarac, back from trading with the nomads?" Valdis suggested praying that she would not have to be at the front lines of a skirmish.

Hyatt shook his head and looked over to Valdis who was truthfully more miserable in that moment than she had ever been before. Her thighs ached with rubbing against the saddle, her back felt hardened and sore and she wanted nothing more than to fall off her horse into the waving wild grass of the plains and rest forever. Stahl nudged Valdis' horse and it trotted forward. Valdis lurched in the saddle and she moaned miserably as fresh pain assaulted her back.

"Sleep, milady. We have a long way yet to our next camp."

Valdis nodded and struggled past tears as she closed her eyes, she was thankful that her saddle was meant for a lady and a small board of leather could be leant against. The rocking motion of the horse put her to sleep in moments.

It was not fitful rest.

Hyatt had to catch Valdis as she fell from her saddle and carry her to the Rider's tent where a steaming hot bath waited for her. Servants had to peel off her clothing and carry her half conscious to the tub. Valdis hissed as the hot water scalded her skin but it quickly eased the pain in her back and soothed the sting inside her thighs. She sighed happily when a servant let loose her tightly pinned plaits and brushed her damp hair. With a grim realization she knew that this campaign would last longer than she cared for, and the riding would last even longer. It was a life she perhaps could no longer care for.

* * *

><p>Murtagh rolled his shoulders and craned his neck to each side attempting to ease the tension in his body. He leaned over a table with a growl and ground his teeth together. His arms were spread out over a map of Alagaseia and his fingers curled and flexed with agitation.<p>

_Cowards, _Murtagh mentally griped,_ Hiding in the mists._

_They are very angering, _Thorn agreed.

_Angering is too slight a word for them. I dislike risking my life for a cause which is futile to its very foundations. If we let them be they would wither and die without any assistance from us. Every time we face them they have more strength, more allies-_

_Yet when we ignore them-_

_-they fester like lepers and die. Slowly._

_It seems that they match our efforts with an equal if not more powerful force each time we confront them._

Murtagh swiped at the map and stood stiffly away from the table.

_The sooner the Varden dies the sooner I can be left in peace, no more commands or orders. No more of my blood spilt in war._

_Little dragon, you are made of war. War has been your life since your birth. There has always been a battle raging in your veins._

Murtagh could not deny the thrill it always gave him when he felt the power of dark magic coursing through every nerve of his body, elating him as much as it terrified him that he could manipulate and control such power, such greatness. Superior power than even his father the traitor Morzan could manage. How the father paled in comparison to his own son. He was a greater warrior, more majestic a Rider, and a master magician that even The Twins groveled to. He could dispose of them with a single word of death. The grim thought pleased him in his agitation.

_Calm yourself, _Thorn chided, _Not even dragons need be so angry at all things._

Murtagh rolled his eyes and his shoulders again which were fraught with tension from the days ride. He was in the mood for something sporting.

_It's a shame I cannot spar with anyone, _he mused.

Thorn laughed and he blew small jets of fire which startled some soldiers who were guarding the outskirts of the camp.

_You would hack them to pieces I would think._

_What about Lord Rohm? Perhaps he could withstand a few moments against me, or some of the Urgals. _

Murtagh felt Thorn's surprise through their bond. It made Murtagh shrug innocently.

_I think you are bored, little dragon._

Murtagh sighed and collapsed in a seat.

_Unfortunately, yes._

Murtagh felt Thorn suddenly become light hearted and he hid away what amused him.

_What?_ Murtagh growled in no mood for Thorn's games.

_Where's Valdis?_

* * *

><p>Valdis woke and could not fall back to sleep. She knew the next day would be filled with preparations and organizing, even riding if their camp was not deemed a safe place to be yet sleep eluded her and the cold air chilled her. They had traveled through the plains and the closest city to them was Gil'ead though it was at least sixty leagues from them. They had camped on the outskirts of Du Weldenvarden and a single mountain could be seen from the southern edge of camp if one looked on a clear day. It was nearing winter and the air was chilled painfully. It nipped at exposed skin and the cold would stay with you long after you had sought shelter.<p>

Valdis rose from the fur bed and by instinct knew that it was late in the night and that the camp was asleep. She regretted rising with her sore body but took a moment of painful stretching to ease her muscles. She went to a chest of her nicer things by the wash stand and pulled from the deep contents a dark gown of thick grey wool. The advantage, Valdis supposed, of being the mistress of a prince and Rider who commanded the wealth of the country.

She was gifted daily with items of material value and of the finest make. She knew from the tiny stitches that held strong and did not rip no matter how hard she tugged and from the silver thread that adorned her nicer gowns, the ones only Murtagh ever saw. The lighter dresses of only a few layers had long since been put away. Now with the oncoming winter it was thick wool and leather, silk gowns with goose feathers quilted into the cloth.

The clinking of hilts against buckles and the sound of crunching snow made Valdis stop and listen attentively. Guards most likely keeping watch over the barracks, she did not want to be disturbed and craved to go on a walk along the forest without being followed by guards. Valdis thought that it had very little with her own protection but rather to ensure that she was no spy or assassin. A silly thought on their parts, she was a healer not a magician.

Slipping over the ground which was covered in scratchy carpet from Surda she pulled the loose gown over her head and began to quickly tug at the thin leather laces to make the dress more fitted as she liked. Almost immediately she felt warmer and she tugged on her thick socks and new riding boots which had also been a gift from Murtagh. She wiggled her toes in the cold tips of the boot and was satisfied that they fit snugly but not painfully. She was grateful for the boots more than she was for the dresses and occasional modest jewel. They were made of a deep honey colored leather that went all the way up her calves with a flat sole that was very thick for wearing. Most of all they were warm and resisted moisture well.

Valdis froze again at the sound of marching feet and very much wanted to be left to herself for a while. She could hardly believe how much had changed in the past month. Soldiers regarded her with more respect and reverence than she was comfortable with and though Murtagh was very obliging that she continue her work as a healer to keep her busy it was starting to become a burden. The soldiers stared at her and no longer told her stories of their homes as they used to and they never met her gaze for long. As though they were afraid they would be turned to stone if they did. She missed being only a healer especially when soldiers would smile at her gratefully or playfully tease her at when they saw her at her blushed cheeks or pretty eyes.

There was a familiarity with the soldiers that she did not have with Murtagh. He was rash and unpredictable and frightened Valdis sometimes with his dark gaze and powerful being. When they went to bed together sometimes Valdis enjoyed nothing more than to run her hands along his body, marveling at how something so human could be so terrible, command so much fear and reverence. The smooth skin, growing paler she noted in the darkening months, did not show the true hardness of his character, the coarseness of his life. The lean powerful muscles intimidated her and she admitted that she was rather addicted to the thrill she felt when her hands gripped his strong arms and she felt the motion of his hips and the way the muscles beneath his skin pulled beneath her fingers so smoothly.

Valdis shivered at the thought and grew warm for more sinful reasons, she giggled at her own wickedness and searched for her cloak-also new and lined with wolf fur. It was folded neatly on a seat by the tent entrance and she happily drew it from its place and wrapped it around her shoulders. She fingered the strong steel clasp that was she realized in the shape of a dragon. Its tail was one end of the clasp while the head went through it with its own long neck and held the cloak closed. It was an intricate design that even had scales and talons. Valdis wondered if it was by Murtagh design that she should have this. Waiting for silence as the guards passed again Valdis creeped out of the tent and looked around her with cautious eyes.

Nothing.

Not a sound in the light breeze or a spotting of a human. She was alone and she liked it.

Freshly fallen snow crunched beneath Valdis' feet and made her smile warmly at her surroundings. She had never seen snow in her life. She had been born to a small fishing village where the year's climate was always the same with its cloudy days and cool weather. She realized that she loved winter and its stillness and never wanted to leave their place along the forest. As she passed tents along the rows she heard quiet laughing and snoring from within and was pleased that no one seemed to suffer in this cold climate. Her clothes kept out the winter chill and her face was happy to be tinged pink with the wintry atmosphere. When she found the woods excitement creeped into her heart and she turned behind her once more to check that she wasn't followed. Still silent and white without a single stirring from any soldier that would stop her.

The woods did not frighten her and that did strike Valdis as odd. Though it was well past midnight and the clouds overhead obstructed the view of the moon the snow still glowed ethereally as if it was being bathed in silver moonlight. She ran her hands along the bark of the tree's and enjoyed the little specks of snow that fell around her in perfect silence coating the world in purity.

A branch snapped and broke her reverie.

Valdis froze in her place and listened quietly. There was a kind of knowing silence and Valdis could picture in her mind the frozen dark figure of someone hiding in the shadows of the tree's tense with fear at being discovered by her. She turned slowly in case it was some animal, and saw nothing threatening in the trees behind her. Valdis relaxed and smiled for a moment at her own foolishness when she heard another crack from the place where she had been facing. She whirled again despite caution and saw nothing amidst the trees. Her heart began to race and she picked up the loose folds of her gown and cloak and moved forward, struggling slightly in the deeper snow.

"Who's there?" she called in a calm voice, but only silence answered her.

Valdis grew nervous as she stood in the snow and turned every which way, with her growing fear every shadow seemed a danger and she forgot which way she had came with all her turning.

"Wyrda!"

Valdis screamed and fell upon her back in the chilling snow. A snow white raven had perched itself on a low branch of redwood tree and stared at her with intelligent eyes. Valdis looked at it with a scared expression and it stared back with a look of what Valdis would guess was the birds amusement. Valdis struggled slightly to her feet and looked around her. The snow glowed peacefully and the shadows were small and safe. Valdis peered at the bird and hesitantly reached out her hand to stroke the white feathers. It did not hop away from her but stared at her with glittering beady black eyes.

"Wyrda!" it croaked and Valdis yelped and jumped back in surprise. Valdis knew that it was clearly speaking she just could not understand whatever language it had been taught.

"Hello," she murmured uncertainly. "Can you say something else?"

It tilted its head to the side and blinked once sharply.

_By Evandar's blessing may I speak,_

_And see the things that others seek!_

Valdis' brow furrowed.

"You speak in tongues _and in riddles_?" she posed in disbelief. "I only know a few of riddles and I'm not exceptionally bright when it comes to deciphering them."

The bird blinked at her again.

_Bright as light,_

_Dark as stone,_

_On your path,_

_You're sure to roam!_

Valdis shook her head and laughed at the bird.

"Of course I roam, you silly thing. I'm traveling."

_In the burning battle,_

_Blood will meet,_

_And seek the ties_

_They yearn to keep._

Valdis growled at the raven and turned away.

"There has been no battle like the one you speak of," she called irritably over her shoulder. "Clearly you were trained to irritate whatever fool that listened."

_A fool's a thing,_

_Who only see's,_

_Whatever it is,_

_That wants to be!_

Valdis turned around sharply and her eyes flashed with anger.

"You're not making any sense! You speak in riddles and of things I do not understand! Say something that makes sense to me!" and she threw out her arms in exasperation. The white raven flew over to her and perched itself on one of her outstretched arms. Its grip was tight and firm as if it meant to shake Valdis to make her listen.

_The boy will die,_

_As the man is born,_

_He rides upon,_

_The dragon Thorn!_

The raven pecked at her arm sharply and flew away to a place feet from her on the ground.

Valdis paused in the chilling snow and the flakes of winter now fell with eerie silence around her. She was suddenly afraid with the birds knowledge. It did not look as though it belonged in this world, but to some other place filled with legends and tall tales.

Thorn, that was the name of Murtagh's ruby colored dragon. Why did the bird riddle lines about him? Valdis turned to look behind her as if waiting for someone to appear to explain the meaning of the birds presence. The white raven waited till she looked at him and he hoped forward three times and looked to her. It hoped forward again and cried-

"Wyrda!"

Valdis appraised the white raven with a furrowed expression but picked up her skirts a looked behind her once more. She walked forward into the forest with the raven flying from branch to low branch ahead of her. She walked for what felt like a league and by the time the raven stopped she was hot and tired in her furs and wool.

"Wyrda!" the white raven croaked and he stood perched on an pointed outcropped rock in the middle of a tiny clearing that Valdis could walk around in ten strides.

It hopped on the top of the stone excitably and Valdis hesitantly moved towards it. It had strange markings that ran along the length of the pointed rock. Like clear chisel markings from whoever had carved it, other than the engraved lines it bore no other markings from what she could see. Valdis touched it with her hands and it was warm as though it had been sitting in the sun for hours. She walked around the edge of it trailing her fingertips around the rock and though it was chiseled with lines it was smooth to her touch. She heard whispers in the wind, in the forest around her and paused, frightened to listen; they surrounded the woods and spoke desperately to her, all at once so they drowned one another out. All she heard was hissing and she was filled warmth trailed from the rock to her hands which made the hairs rise on her arms. A fierce whistling wind shook the trees around her and shook down snow from the giant woods branches.

"Raven," Valdis whispered. "What is this place?"

"Sála!" the white raven cawed and it flew away into the wind and disappeared into the darkness leaving Valdis in the snow to find her own way.

* * *

><p>"Where did you go?"<p>

Valdis froze in her place and her fingers fumbled with her cloaks fastening. She forced her face to relax and a slight smile to grace her face.

"I went for a walk," she replied honestly. "I've never seen snow before."

Murtagh was sitting in such a way that hinted to her that he had been waiting for some time. From the dark look on his face she knew he was less than pleased that she had been gone for so long, especially since he didn't know _where _she had gone. Or if she had been with anyone. Valdis smiled and shook of his anger as best as she could, but as much as she hated to admit it he intimidated her always. His presence was dark and unknown and it was similar to death. Though she did not fear it, she feared the misery he was capable of causing with the life around him. He would torture with precision that frightened and saddened her. He was not to be casually dismissed.

"I'm sorry if you were waiting. I thought perhaps you would not return soon."

She was honest with that comment at least. She knew the prince was suspicious by nature. It couldn't be helped so she continued on.

"If I had known I would-"

"Would have what?" he asked with such a light tone that it made Valdis' eyes narrow and her patience snapped while her temper flared.

"I wouldn't have gone for the walk," she said slowly trying to keep her voice level.

"You shouldn't have in the first place."

Valdis fought hard to not roll her eyes at him, but it was hard. _Very _hard.

"Why not?" she asked innocently, "I couldn't sleep, I was restless. This weather bothers me."

"Yet you went for a walk."

Valdis threw her cloak onto the chaise and twisted to face him with her hands on her hips. Her lips were twisted in a scowl and she appraised Murtagh who sat rigid on the bed.

"If you have something you would like to ask, _milord_. I encourage you to do so."

He eyed her flatly as he stepped forward.

"Who is he?" he said coming towards her with his eyes flashing.

"_What?"_

"The man you crept off to see. What's his name?"

"I saw no man," Valdis huffed, insulted, and she pushed past him to throw her boots to her chest of things in the corner. She was tired and short tempered and most of all insulted she did not think of the possibility that Murtagh would be violent towards her.

"If you lie to me his fate will be worse than yours," Murtagh threatened heavily.

Valdis growled and lifted her leg to place her foot on the corner of one of the low tables and she took his hand and delved it underneath her skirt.

"I'm dry," she said bluntly coloring at length she had to go to prove herself.

Murtagh gave a short burst of mirthless laughter and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Even unskilled whores know to clean themselves. Perhaps you do not remember our bargain, milady. But you are tied to me. You _belong _to me."

"I'm not your slave," she insisted fiercely.

"You're my mistress," he snarled back just as furious.

"So that's the same thing to you? If I was a whore I would have bedded the _encampment_ by now and my hands would be spilling with sliver."

Murtagh growled, grabbed her roughly by the arm and shook her as he spoke.

"You are starting to become more trouble than you are worth, _milady._ I would be _very_ careful if I were you. Start with his name and I may leave you unscathed."

"I saw no-"

"Lying will not protect you," he reminded sternly tightening his grip on her arm which was starting to lose feeling. She knew she would have a bruise yet Valdis looked at Murtagh squarely in the face and fought against her tears of anger.

"Well then I suppose I've been caught." She struggled out of his grip which had loosened at her confession while his face flitted with surprise for a moment. Which made Valdis even angrier, wasn't it what he wanted to hear?

_Hellfire._

Valdis didn't understand him.

"Since you seem to be set on not believing me I suppose I should just embrace my terrible fate and beg for mercy, " Valdis mocked giving into her temper which flared with her every word. "Should I do it on my knees or would you prefer to whip me senseless in front of your men?"

Murtagh raised his hand suddenly and Valdis flinched.

"That was a warning, milady. The next time you disrespect me you won't have _time_ to cringe."

"I would wear my bruise as a badge of honor then," Valdis spat boldly.

"You would wear it in_ silence_ or I would honor you again," he coldly replied as he lowered his hand. "With that comment you questioned my authority and I will not tolerate your tongue if it insults me."

Though Valdis knew she had done no wrong her face flushed with embarrassment she felt proud however that she held his gaze strongly. After a silent intense moment of anger Valdis spoke, and chose her words carefully.

"I saw no other man," she said slowly and softly, keeping her voice in a single tone. "I went for a walk in the woods because I have never seen snow before. _That is all_."

She looked up to him and she relaxed and her face fell wearily. She was exhausted and tired. Hurt from the frequent traveling and saddle sores and hurt by Murtagh's searing comments and biting anger. Murtagh saw her face and though he remained tense his shoulders slackened and he nodded. Valdis slowly moved out of his way to the chaise where she unlaced her dress but paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder. Murtagh had turned when he felt her eyes on him.

"Should I find another place to sleep tonight?" she asked quietly with downcast eyes.

Murtagh shook his head and turned to add a log to the fire pit which blazed with the fresh fuel. When Valdis was in her chemise she shivered with the cold and wrapped herself in a robe before carefully lying down next to Murtagh who was to Valdis' surprise shirtless.

"Do Riders not feel the cold as we poor mortals do?" Valdis asked with as light a tone as possible. She looked up to Murtagh in time to see a corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. His willingness to listen to her humor made her feel less worried that he might lash out at her.

"I am connected to a dragon that is not easily affected by extreme cold or heat, so I do not feel things the same as you do," he explained with surprising kindness. "I am also closer to the fire," he added with a hint of humor. Valdis reached over her shoulder to tug the furs closer to her body and she gave a small shiver. The cold here in the woods seemed to cling to her skin.

"Cold?" Murtagh asked after an uncertain moment. The embarrassment of the argument still hung heavily over them which they both were doing their best to ignore.

"Only slightly," she lied.

Murtaghs brow furrowed. If his mistress was cold then he was obviously being negligent, something that did not sit well with him. He raised his hand and tilted his palm to the fire.

"Brisingr," he murmured and the fire blazed with more intensity.

Valdis tried to discreetly huddle closer to Murtagh for warmth and after a few pathetically disguised tries he sighed and reached to pull her over to him. The tips of her fingers were cold and her toes felt like ice, she shivered at the sudden heat but soon relaxed. Murtagh knew she was hesitant to be near him now. He had raised a hand at her, something he secretly regretted. Her reminding words of general Kreeve had stung, but only because the memory of what he had done was still fresh in his mind. He wanted to explain that what he had done was the only way. He truly had no choice because he was not given one. He would not apologize, but he would have liked to tell the reasons behind his actions.

"What does that mean?"

"Hmm?"

"Brisingr?" Valdis said with a slightly furrowed brow as she moved her tongue past the new word.

"It means 'fire'."

"The language of the old?" Valdis asked nervously not wanting to annoy him if his temper was still hovering just below him.

Murtagh looked down at her, taken aback slightly.

"In the ancient language, yes."

Valdis admitted that she knew how magic worked but could not use it herself. Murtagh was surprised by how informed she was on the mechanics of the magic and off the words of power.

"How much do you know?" he asked eager to make her forget their rather dangerous argument moments ago.

"Not much," Valdis shrugged. "I wish I knew how to heal with magic though."

"Waíse heill," Murtagh murmured.

Valdis went onto her elbow to look down at him.

"What does it mean?"

"Be healed. It's the simplest healing spell, but it works."

"Can it mend the organs, heal ribs?"

Murtagh shook his head but he kept his eyes on her.

"No, it would kill you if you tried so don't try it. More complex spells are needed the more complicated the ailment or desire is. There are those however, who could say one thing and get another that would seem unrelated."

"Like what?" Valdis asked eagerly.

"Like-," Murtagh struggled for a moment to think of an example, "-like saying the words for fire and earth and produce a diamond from it."

"A diamond? You're just teasing me now," Valdis giggled.

"No," Murtagh said seriously, "No I'm not. It's difficult and dangerous if the energy you use is not controlled or rationed so many do not embark on trying and many simply do not have that kind of power."

Valdis was quiet for a moment as she mused over Murtagh's words; her fingers tapped a rhythm on his chest while she thought. Murtagh waited for an onslaught of questions.

"Are you that powerful?"

Murtagh hesitated as he looked at her and he raised himself on an elbow.

"Yes," he said simply while he took her hand and curled her fingers so she made a fist, "I could make you a diamond that was the size of your hand. I could make rubies and sapphires larger and purer than any you could mine from the earth."

"Would it kill you?"

Murtagh laughed softly and considered her carefully.

"It would be exhausting, but I do not think it would kill me," he replied honestly shaking his head.

"I would heal you if it did," Valdis said simply and she scolded herself for speaking without thinking first.

"There's no spell that can bring back the dead, Valdis," Murtagh commented seriously and he rubbed his tired face. "Once life leaves us it leaves us forever. The elves tried once but many of the spell casters died and since then it has not been attempted."

He looked sideways at her in a calculating way but Valdis did her best to ignore it as she stared into the raging flames of the fire.

"Magic sounds too dangerous to use."

Murtagh's brow raised.

"Only if it is wielded incorrectly. If you know your own strength and start from there you do get stronger. Practice is the best advice I could give. Practice and imagination."

"It still sounds like something out of the stories my mother used to tell me," Valdis admitted.

Murtagh nodded slightly but his eyes held questions.

"What stories?" he asked cautiously. Valdis laughed slightly and took a deep breath as she began.

"When I was little, " Valdis began, "My mother used to tell me that when it rained it was because the gods were crying at all of the evil that their children on earth created, and that when there were fires in the forests it was made by the dragon gods because they were not pleased that they had been forgotten."

Murtagh breathed out sharply in amusement smirked.

"What else did she tell you?" but he seemed eager to hear. Valdis suddenly remembered that Murtagh had no real mother and it was likely that he had never really heard such stories.

"She told me that the sun and moon were really a god and goddess and that the sun was jealous of the moon because unlike him all could gaze upon the moon's beauty and not be blinded. So envious was sun that he tried to creep up upon the moon as he rose in the east and as she set in the west and stab her with a ray of sunlight. But as he crept over the horizon he gazed upon her beauty in the darkness of the dawn and fell deeply in love with her-"

Murtagh smiled.

"So ashamed was he of his hate and so in love was he with the moon that he courted her every dawn and dusk for ten thousand years until she grew to love him too, for only she could see his fiery brilliance without going blind. They married and had many, many children who shined just as brilliantly as their goddess mother and god father. The moon and sun threw their children into the heavens where they could shine with their mother and every night there were more and more stars. But moon was unhappy that she did not get to see her husband and she missed his warmth."

Valdis moved closer to Murtagh as she said this and he could smell the cold snow in her hair.

"To make moon happy the sun bargained with the god of the clouds that if he disappeared on the full moon he could cover the sun completely the next day. So on the first full moon of the bargain the clouds disappeared and the radiance of the pale moonlight entranced the earth children and they loved and worshiped the moon just as the sun loved and worshipped her. And they will forever love each other till the moon cracks, the sun burns out and all the stars fall from the sky."

Murtagh lay back against the fur bed and Valdis followed with her head resting against the concave of his shoulder. His fingers traced patterns through her robe to her skin. She could feel his warmth as he could feel the coolness of her body.

"That is quite a story."

"Just a children's story, milord." Valdis said leisurely as sleep gently tugged at her eyes. "I never believed them but they paint a pretty picture of the world."

"Prettier than you?"

Valdis did not hear him; she was falling asleep to the suns warmth and dreaming of her star children.

{INSERT LINE}

Murtagh and Valdis rode silently next to each other as they moved through the edges of Du Weldenvarden. Though they had been civil to each other all morning it was late afternoon that the tension became palpable when they had stopped for a moments rest. Hyatt and Stahl helped her down from her horse and walked behind her as she slowly roamed the grass plain with her hand s trailing the tops of the plants as she past them. When the horn had called for everyone to reassemble Murtagh was already seated on his grey war horse and watched with steely eyes as Hyatt lifted Verena up into her saddle.

Hyatt was not an ugly man. That Valdis could admit. And if she had not been the king's mistress and had met him by chance she would have greatly admired his courtesy and silent strength. She would have admired his thick wavy hair the color of fire and his dark green eyes, and the kind smile. He was handsome and if she had not been tied to Murtagh Valdis would have found him very appealing. From the way the way that he looked at her sometimes, she knew that his views of her were the same.

Murtagh however seemed to know exactly what Hyatt's thoughts were and he glared at Hyatt so fiercely that Hyatt understood and bowed low and rode farther behind them than his brother did. The three of them seemed to know the reason for the tension yet they could not move passed it. Verena tried to speak to Murtagh about anything and everything. She complemented the craftsmanship of his armour, the greatness of his war horse whose name she knew was Tornac. She asked about how he had come upon that name and he had remained completely silent and had stared into the distance.

Thorn, scales shining in the cold winter sun flew overhead and Murtagh looked up, he remained that way for a moment and seemed to hold a private conversation then he nodded and looked forward again to their path along the forest.

"There is a plateau of flat rock twenty leagues ahead of us-"

Valdis balked at the distance.

"-we will camp there tonight and wait till we receive orders from the king. Hyatt, scout the area for the Varden. They may have camped there."

Valdis' brow furrowed.

Scouting was dangerous and that was even with comrades to help you. But Murtagh was sending him alone and though Hyatt obeyed immediately and rode forward at a gallop she knew that Stahl was silently fuming behind her.

Hyatt did not return.


	4. The Creatures of the Forest

Valdis was silent as she buckled the last pieces of his polished steel armor. The preparation sounds of battle roared outside as men with pikes raced past in formation and boots crunched the sow beneath their feet, turning it into hard slippery ice grimy and frozen with dirt. Orders were shouted out for more soldiers here another few with some lord down the line. Horns and drums beat out a vicious war dance and filled the air with their harsh thrumming. Yet Valdis prepared Murtagh silently and she reached for his mailed arms and pulled his hand so it rested to her side as she buckled on his vambraces. She had donned her old healing clothes and Murtagh felt the soft brush of material between his fingers as she moved his hands to help him fit on his gauntlets properly.

"Fit?" she asked softly as she tugged on the metallic cuffs and tugged at the leather.

"Yes," he replied equally quiet. He watched her as she checked over his armor again and she did not meet his eyes as he would have liked.

"Valdis-"

"Are you sure you want me to do this? I have no idea how to properly fit armor," she rambled as though it was only a simple fitting and not a preparation for battle.

"You did well," he said simply and honestly. The squires seemed too afraid to tighten the buckles properly for fear of pinching him and most likely angering him. Valdis had no such qualms which was what he realized when she tugged as hard as she could on the leather strapping's to ensure that everything was right. He preferred the armor snug. It would be idiocy to worry about a loose pauldron in the midst of battle.

Valdis sighed and rested her arms on her waist as she stepped back to inspect him. He flexed his fingers and twisted his wrist. The glove and metal were snug and comfortably.

"Why will you not look at me? Look at me."

She did with slightest hint of frown lines around her face. She looked exhausted with worry.

"We outnumber them-"

"I know."

"This is a swift attack as I told you. They will most likely surrender within the hour."

Valdis grew angry for a moment.

"The empire doesn't take prisoners."

Murtagh's jaw clenched and his voice was tight.

"No, we don't."

Valdis sighed and turned away from him, trying to hide her extreme displeasure at the rule. Murtagh knew how much it angered her and he never spoke of it more than what was necessary. There were some things in fact that they never spoke of. They both knew with glances and tense voices from previous arguments that it was better for them to lock away what angered them. So when there was a time when their differences boiled to the surface they both agreed silently with a look that they should simply not speak of it.

He could not change the harshness of king, nor the brutality of war even if they both wished for it. Murtagh thought that she was done speaking with him, however little it was and resigned himself to silence. Valdis had other ideas.

"You're a master swordsman, correct?"

Murtagh looked up and she stood near his chest of war things.

"You can command magic like no other man can."

"Yes," he answered but his face was slightly tainted with wary confusion at her sudden questions. He waited for her point but not with great patience. He was not as eager as his men were to go to slaughter. He took no pleasure in it. Valdis walked to him and began to strap his sword to his side as she spoke in a small voice that was filled with indifference but worry bubbled to the surface with her voice.

"You can make a diamond that is the size of my hand. You could make rubies and sapphires purer than any that could be mined from the earth."

She looked up at him with a sad sort of smile and her hands rested on the lower half of his breastplate. Murtagh smiled slightly as he remembered the words he had boasted to her nights before. When she had told him the story of the sun's love of the moon, and their children, the shining stars.

"You can do all of that, milord. So this should be simple," she took his face in her hands and held him firmly with a fierce determined gaze in her eyes that set Murtagh's will on fire. He was not used to being touched as affectionately as she was touching his face. It was too…intimate for his liking. It felt embarrassing and public. Yet he knew they were alone.

"Come back alive. I will know you to be the most powerful man on this earth when you _come back alive_."

Murtagh kissed her hard after a stunned moment and broke away quickly.

"I am the most powerful man on this earth."

* * *

><p>Valdis stood in the center of the camp with blank eyes utterly horrified at the scene in front of her.<p>

Men where drowning in their own blood, laying in puddles of it as dirt mixed with their wounds and stung their torn skin. Valdis had never seen such carnage before and she could have lived every day of her life happily ignorant of the fact that men could be so reduced to nothing. Men who seemed to be made of things stronger than herself were reduced to pieces of their former selves.

The spilled and dripped on Valdis as if they were made of water. She could do nothing for the men who were being cut and broken by pieces of forged earth. Earth that they called home, now being used against them to take the life that they once lived.

She stumbled over men's limbs to reach those who were perhaps a stride from death rather than an inch. Her hands fluttered uselessly over wounds that ran with steady streams of red. Men grasped at her arms and body, drowning men desperate for survival. She could not help any of them, they were too mutilated and too dry. Their water, their life, was spilling before her and she was left with nothing but dry cold shells of men.

She couldn't speak coherently and she struggled to breath. Their eyes were the worst, their gargled words of fear and pain made her scream and sob and when she tried to wipe away their tears she smeared their life over her own face, making her appear ghoulish and frightening.

Surgeons sawed limbs that could not be saved, and threw them to the ground. Valdis was useless without magic. They sent her men who were dying and could not be saved. These wounds were crushed organs and shattered limbs. Fingers missing and pieces of flesh hacked and ripped from them. Someone was shaking her and speaking, she had drowned out the groans of the men by thinking of things that she wanted.

She wanted the snow to be white again.

She wanted to be blind and deaf.

She wanted to breathe without crying.

It was a horrible war that she didn't want to be a part of and she shook off whoever held her, a firm hand grabbed her again and pulled her somewhere and placed her hands on a bleeding limb firmly. She could feel the dirt and rock in the wound and the shaking of the person who owned that limb and panicked. She let go as soon as her hands had been placed down and scurried away. Men were black and sooty and some were covered in blood that was not their own.

The fighting was over but the real terror was just beginning. She could not heal them and she could not ease their pain. The small bottle of poppy juice she had was taken from her when she had retrieved it from her dress and her bandages were gone within moments of trying to help a few men.

She walked and walked to somewhere that she didn't know and fell to the cold snow. It was somewhere she recognized and had walked before where the tree's were far apart and seemed as tall as the sky. A place where she couldn't smell scorched flesh and the horrific clang of metal.

It was quite when she wept and the snow turned pink with blood as it washed away from her face and clothes. She didn't want to see their faces anymore and she couldn't stand it for a moment longer. She was cold and miserable and she wanted the warmth of furs and a raging fire. She wanted a friend and desperately wished for one.

Sleep was a welcome sanctuary.

* * *

><p>"Wyrda!"<p>

The air was so cold that some of her tears had left frozen trails on her cheeks.

"Wyrda!"

She moved her fingers and was relieved that she had tucked them into her thick dress. She raised herself on a shaky arm and looked around her. Sitting in the snow was the white raven from the weeks before looking at her carefully with its eyes blinking rapidly with intent eyes.

"Wyrda!" it cawed throatily.

"I don't know what that means," Valdis murmured as she struggled to her knees. The ground of the forest had not been completely covered in snow. Taller weeds from the fall still spotted the pristine white ground in patches of dry grass that made a makeshift bed for her to lie upon. She brushed snow from her clothes and shakily stood on weak legs.

"_On the trail have we met,_

_There's much to be discovered yet!_

_Dry your tears,_

_Brave your fears,_

_Blagden is always here!"_

Valdis' brow furrowed and as she tried to step forward she fell and caught herself with one arm.

"Ouch," she muttered and she looked at her wrist which was red and swollen. Sighing, she weakly scraped at snow and packed it to her throbbing wrist.

"I don't know who you are, or-" Valdis shook her head to clear her thoughts, "-_what_ you are. But if you can help me I promise to protect you if the soldiers try to make you into soup."

The white raven cawed and flapped its wings in what Valdis guessed was amusement.

"_On a journey you must seek,_

_To fight for those who are meek!_

_Help the Rider to his prize,_

_Whilst saving him from demise!"_

Valdis groaned and slumped in the snow, but as she began to fall forward with exhaustion the white raven made an attempt to peck at her nose and Valdis sat straight again with agitation.

"I'm tired you crazy pigeon, let me sleep in the snow or help me back to camp."

"_On a trail have we met,_

_There's much-!"_

"To be discovered yet," Valdis finished, "Yes. I know. _I heard_." She stood and was pleased to find that she was steadier. She looked around her and sighed wearily. She had no idea where she was. She felt close to camp but knew that if she went in the wrong direction she would wander in the woods for days until she starved or froze in a winter storm.

"I cannot believe I'm asking this of a _bird,_ but can you help me? Can you flap your wings in the general direction of the camp? Or riddle directions I can solve?"

The raven hopped in the snow towards her and cawed loudly when his foot fell through the snow and he was submerged, beak first in the wintry frost. Valdis couldn't help but giggle slightly as she knelt to pick up the bird with her fingers carefully placed around its wings; it shook its beak and cawed at her softly. She wiped the snow from its feathers with a clean portion of her apron and the crow preened at the special attention from her gentle fingers. The feathers were smooth and soft and they shone with a pale sheen in the moonlight. It wriggled uncomfortably in her hands and Valdis raised a brow.

"First you like me now you don't?" She tossed the bird up into the sky and he flapped till he stood on a branch, "How very ungrateful of you."

The bird turned its head to look at her with one black eye in a rather haughty manner. Valdis cringed for a moment as she shifted her bad wrist, then something from her memory caught her attention.

"Is your name, _Blagden_?"

"WYRDA!"

It was good enough for Valdis and she could not help but smile.

"That is a very interesting name."

Blagden cleaned his white feathers pompously for a moment and then his head stood straight and stiff and he moved it smoothly side to side as only birds could. He cawed and cawed flapping his wings angrily at something he saw.

"What is it?" Valdis looked to the distance behind her; she saw nothing but an expanse of bleached forest. Blagden hopped up and down on his branch, spraying snow from the pine needles and cawing loudly.

"Háski!"

Valdis shook her head and shook her arms in frustration and with worry.

"I don't know what that means!"

"_As harm draws near,_

_You clearly lack,_

_The wits needed,_

_To get back!"_

Valdis looked through the white snow and a shadow moved yards away from her. It was covered in a battered black cloak and a huge beak protruded from the hood, a foul smell barely reached her nose but it made her feel dizzy and clouded as though she had drunk too much ale.

"_The leatherwings have flown far,_

_To become the little race that they are."_

Valdis tried not to move but she was covered in a dark cloak and stood out in the snow. Whatever was cloaked yards from her was sniffing the air and its head snapped to her direction. Perhaps it smelled the blood from her clothes.

"The bird ssspeaks the truth of old agesss."

Valdis walked backwards slowly, Blagden stayed determinedly on his branch. His feathers shook and his beak and black eyes were tensely focused on the dark creature in front of him.

"_A mighty race such as yours,_

_Should not go killing human whores."_

Valdis glared at Blagden and hissed at him.

"You are going to be my dinner, pigeon."

The cloaked figure laughed and hissed in amusement, Valdis wished to not see what was underneath its hood, but she saw its back was hunched sharply and it seemed a bad imitation of a human form. In its clawed hands was a dark crude blade, spilling blood from the tip and dying the snow a bright pik.

"I will keep you, yesss? You may pleassse our massster."

"Kill them both!"

A second cloaked figure appeared from beyond the trees and the first stranger seemed unsurprised at the sudden appearance. This creature was shorter than the other and stockier beneath his cloak. His shorter twisted blade was also dripping with blood.

"We have no ussse for prisonersss or birdsss who ssspeak too much." The shorter one's voice was harsher and clipped, angrier than the first hooded figure who regarded the odd pairing of raven and woman with amusement. The taller one hissed in displeasure at his counterpart's words.

"We haven't feasssted in weeksss," the tall one spat and his gaze twisted to Valdis in a fashion that reminded her of vultures, "The woman looksss plump and pretty. Ssshe would make a fine meal for usss!"

The shorter cloaked figure turned to Valdis and clucked its beak together several times, what Valdis painfully assumed was the equivalent of someone licking their lips at the sight of a tempting feast.

"Agreed."

Blagden cawed viciously and loudly flapping his wings and snapping his beak in the air.

"Go!" Valdis whispered quickly as she waved her hands at Blagden, "Go you stupid thing, don't become the first course!"

Blagden ignored her and cawed while they figures approached her, fanning to the sides of the trees and moving silently through the snow to flank her. Blagden continued to caw furiously and flapped his wings while his harsh cries rang through the forest. Valdis breathed in and felt faint with the smell of the creatures that were paces from her. Then Blagden's caws were replaced by something far more astounding and terrible. A mighty roar erupted from the sky above her and rang through her ears in great waves of sound. She felt her skin stand on end and her lungs vibrate and a great whoosh of air threw her over into the snow. Blagden flew off into the distance and became one with the white scenery.

Valdis hit her head against the trunk of a bleached birch tree and her vision swam, the creatures hissed in terror and anger and backed away but a steady loud voice rang clear and they were lifted into the air struggling and kicking furiously against their invisible bonds that had strung them into space likes puppets. A voice spoke as something slowly thundered toward her, Valdis curled up and waited for sharp teeth to rip into her skin but hot breath blew in her face and she heard a great rumbling.

The large snout of a ruby colored dragon nudged her huddled frame cautiously.

_I think she's gone mad. _Thorn commented warily as he twisted his head side to side to try and peek at Valdis' face.

_She's scared. You're not helping. _Murtagh growled as he directed the steady stream of magic at the Ra'zac.

Thorn moved away from Valdis and launched his neck and head toward the Ra'zac and let loose a deafening roar of anger, he also blew smoke and backed away with a smug disposition that Murtagh could not help but smile at.

_Good dragon._

Thorn hummed at the comment.

"Let usss go traitor! We are worth more than you and your lizard put together!"

Murtagh bound the magic tighter and the Ra'zac struggled as their outer exoskeletons cracked under the weight of the Red Rider's magic. They hissed at him angrily and continued to struggle.

"I am sure your master will be delighted to learn of your well being. He has been so worried that he lost such useful and loyal allies."

"We ssserve out of choice, traitor. You ssserve out of enssslavement."

Murtagh's face darkened and his palm itched with the gedwey ignasia. He was eager for payment for such an insult.

"I serve as you do. Insults will not spare you and they will not make your journey to the capital any easier. I will drag you by dragon if I must."

_Thorn-_

_She is alive, but she is injured. One of her claws is damaged. She will not use it._

Murtagh grimaced and allowed the Ra'zac to drop to the snow.

"Mathinae," he murmured tiredly and the Ra'zac were still in the snow though their eyes moved constantly as they surveyed the happenings of the scene around him.

Murtagh strode through the snow to Valdis who was slumped against a tree. She was pale and drawn looking and stirred slightly when he called for her. When he moved her head he saw a bloody smear on the bleached bark of the tree behind her.

_We need to get her warm. Fly fast and low to the ground. We may not have time to waste._

_As you say, little dragon, I will do._

Murtagh grunted a little as he lifted her and his cloak of sable swept the ground as he moved her over to Thorn's saddle. Once he himself had mounted he pulled Valdis up to him by her good arm and set her in front of him. He wrapped his cloak around her and strapped her into the saddle.

_Quickly, Thorn._

_What of the Ra'zac?_

Murtagh glanced over to them with a hard face.

_Let them freeze. I will entertain the _amusing_ idea of leaving them unharmed when I have rested and eaten._

Thorn grumbled at his rider's dark sense of humor.

_The king will not approve._

_The king is not here, and since they have been missing I doubt it would be surprising if they sustained some injuries on their _long_ and incredibly _perilous_ journey. He may even be suspicious if they were so unharmed._

_We are doing them a favor then,_ Thorn noted casually as he launched himself into the clear chilling winter sky.

_They will thank me for any treatment they receive at my hands when they are treated with the hospitality of the king._

Thorn chuckled at the dark remark.

_Yes. Yes they will, little dragon._

* * *

><p>Valdis and Murtagh watched from a standing distance.<p>

When she had first awoken she felt rested and in a rare state of tranquility. Her wrist was no longer broken and she was happy to find it healed and workable. Her head did not ache and she was cleaned of all blood and was given her clothes of fur and wool to keep her warm. The healer who had attended her was an old matronly woman with sparkling eyes and a cackling laugh that reminded Valdis of the old tales of witches meant to scare children into good manners.

Murtagh had been informed of her awakening in the afternoon during his duties and promptly left them to go to his tent. He was pleased to find Valdis awake and warm. She had not troubled him with blubbering thanks or a weepy confession of love and loyalty. She had simply curtsied and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and requested with an air of authority to see the creatures of the forest. He had gestured silently with an arm to exit the tent before him where their horses waited saddled and ready. He had expected nothing less. He already knew of her thanks from the way she had looked at him and she already knew he was thankful that she was alive; he wouldn't have left his duties in the middle of the day otherwise.

On the ride out of the camp soldiers who Valdis had healed before smiled at her and called out thanks while the rest of the men stopped their work to dutifully kneel and bow to the prince as he past. Verena felt strangely proud as she rode through the camp and Stahl gave her a wink from his place outside of the armory where he had been polishing a sword.

When the camp disappeared from the horizon behind them and nothing but white glared before them Murtagh pulled his horse in front of Valdis' to stop her.

"You will take offense to the words that I say to you but I ask that you listen anyways. Can you do that?"

Valdis' eyes narrowed but she nodded her head.

"Yes, your majesty."

"The creatures from the forest are called the Ra'zac. They will recognize you as prey that they have not finished hunting and they will be angered to see you so intact. They will be violent and cruel and may say things that upset you or anger you. They may even goad you or humiliate you enough where you will want to lash out at them. It's what they want and you will win by remaining calm and passive to their words. They gave me a difficult time this morning and there are craving a taste for blood sport. Do not move from your place and do as I do. It will keep you alive."

"Are they not imprisoned then, milord? Would it not have been wiser to bring your guards?"

"They are caged, but I would be foolish to assume that fact alone would keep us safe."

Valdis nodded determinedly with a hum after a moment of appraising her face Murtagh nodded and kicked his horse forward for another league before he dismounted and began to walk into the woods. Valdis cautiously followed him and kept silent. When a loud sound of roaring came from the distance it echoed through the woods and made Valdis freeze. Murtagh turned to her without apology.

"They smell you. There's no use hiding, we are nearly there."

Valdis eyed the forest ahead of them with a wary eye but trudged forward past Murtagh in the snow and followed the tracks of a cart. Murtagh slowed his pace and watched her as two great masses of blackened iron came into view. Men scrambled and yelled to each other as the Ra'zac shifted and rocked their cages, one even managed to tip it over onto a guard who Valdis knew from the sudden stop of the man's scream that he was dead.

One of the Ra'zac looked up from his kill with blood pooling around his face and bits of flesh clinging to his beak. He clicked at her in something she was sure was a language and the other Ra'zac, the taller one stopped his attempts and clawing at a soldier to turn and look at her. The soldiers stopped to watch as Valdis approached. She could feel Murtagh close behind her and when the soldiers tried to bow Murtagh waved them off with his hand.

The crunch of snow beneath her feet was deafening to her ears and the Ra'zac shifted in their cages with anticipation as she approached them.

"You were sssilly to return, little sssparrow. You only wet out appetitesss with you presssence."

The shorter Ra'zac clicked his beak sharply in agreement.

"Do you have names?" Valdis asked sure that she would be laughed at by the soldiers but they made no remark, they simply watched with nervous expressions.

"Yesss," the taller Ra'zac clicked. "But your tonguesss could not sssay them properly in our language. Too uncivilized we think."

"Then why bother eating us?"

"Why bother eating your animalsss? You would wisssh to ssspeak to the goatsss you ssslaughter? Or the deer you ssskin?"

Valdis nodded.

"I understand your point."

The taller Ra'zac clicked and hissed in amusement.

"Where is your friend, little sssparrow?"

Valdis' brow puckered and her head tilted to the side in confusion.

"The white bird who ssspoke of the thingsss of old."

"He ssspoke too much!" the shorter Ra'zac hissed harshly.

"I don't know," Valdis said honestly, "He went away when-"

"The traitorsss dragon appeared. Yesss, yesss."

Valdis could feel Murtagh's questioning gaze but the soldiers seemed too terrified to notice any of the conversation that was transpiring.

"He wasss a ssstrange thing," the taller Ra'zac admitted, "Hisss feathersss were white as the sssnow."

"Do you know what he is? Why he is?"

The Ra'zac turned his head to stare at Valdis with a beady birdlike eye and appraised her cunningly.

"Perhappsss, little sparrow. Perhapsss."

"You want something then," Valdis growled.

The Ra'zac clicked in unison.

"What is it?"

"We want our steeds. The lethrblaka as your wissser humansss call them."

"I don't know what that means,"

"Their parents," Murtagh suddenly said and he came forward to stand by Valdis, "The lethrblaka are their parents. The Ra'zac you see know are still growing, its why they look so strange to us. Their shells and their lives are not complete."

The Ra'zac hissed in anger and shook their cages the soldiers jumped and shifted nervously.

"Hold!" Murtagh called to the men and the soldiers rallied in their places.

"You ssspeak of thingsss that you ssshould not reveal, traitor!"

"You seemed willing enough to speak."

"To the sssparrow, yesss."

Verena turned her back to the cage and looked tugged discreetly on Murtagh cloak, he leaned slightly to listen.

"Is there anything that the king needs to know?"

Murtagh's brow perked in confusion but Valdis slowly tilted her head and rolled her eyes in the Ra'zacs direction.

"Do you think the king would want to _learn_ of their whereabouts?"

Murtagh's mouth twitched in amusement at her attempts to speak discreetly but he winked at her and Valdis nodded in understanding. _Yes _was his answer. Valdis turned to the Ra'zac with a smooth expression.

"When you found me in the forest what would you have done with me?"

The taller Ra'zac clicked his beak sharply in amusement and hissed at her.

"It would be too gruesssome to hear, little sssparrow."

"Little sssparrow," the shorter Ra'zac echoed.

"We would have eaten you sssslowly. Raw and bloody with you sssinging sssweetly as pretty sssparrowssss do."

The shorter Ra'zac clicked and squawked in hunger and shook his cage slightly, a soldier with a pike jabbed him and the short Ra'zac hissed at him. But the taller one paid him no mind and laced his claw like hands around the bars of the cage. Even though they were as thick as Valdis' thumbs she doubted they would hold a vengeful- or hungry- Ra'zac for long.

"Singing?" Valdis questioned.

"Sssinging," the shorter Ra'zac chanted hungrily.

"They mean screaming," Murtagh whispered into her ear.

"Why were you there?"

The Ra'zac chuckled at her and the taller one tilted its head as if to silently say-

"The blood," Valdis realized, "You were following the blood from the battle."

"Feasssting on the remainsss of our work. Ssso fresssh!" the shorter one jeered happily clicking his beak and shaking the bars of its cage.

"Then you ate the party of the Varden as well then. Soldiers too," she realized, sickened. "That's why some of our men were missing their arms. You were hunting us. Varden ad Empire alike."

The Ra'zac's sharp faces turned to each and they laughed and hissed amongst themselves for a moment.

"Clever sssparrow," the tall one cooed, "Sssmarter than we thought."

"There was a soldier there, scouting them. He was tall and had red hair."

"The one kissed by fire, yesss. He gave usss trouble before we killed him."

Valdis' jaw clenched and her hands fisted as she heard of the fate of Hyatt. Her gloves of leather protested with a stretching sound.

"You killed my men and by campaign law that is punishable by an equal sentence of death," Murtagh said smoothly with authority.

The taller Ra'zac growled as he sharply turned his beak towards Murtagh.

"We are not your sssoilders or your ssslavesss, traitor. We are not held by your lawsss. A hunter doesss not oblige the prey!"

Murtagh's eyes glinted menacingly but his face remained passive and his voice was cool and disinterested.

"You are not in a position to negotiate. You abandoned your king-"

"We do not ssserve the mad man! It is sssport to usss to do asss he sssaysss. We are not broken asss easssily asss you were," The tall Ra'zac chuckled and watched Murtagh as he heard his words.

Murtagh's nostrils flared in anger and his hand shifted toward his sword. Valdis under the cover of their cloaks touched his clenched fist with her cool fingers. Murtagh blinked at the touch but otherwise remained silent.

"You want your parents, as you said the lethrblaka. But how could we find them? What guarantee do we have they will not kill those who approach them."

"Would you prefer them ssstealing away into the night and killing you asss you ssslept, little sssparrow?"

"That doesn't answer my question."

The shorter Ra'zac clicked his beak so sharply that Valdis wanted to count her fingers to make sure she hadn't lost any.

"Ssshe hass fire. Letsss jussst kill them and take her!"

"No!" the taller Ra'zac said with obvious authority.

"They are in the mountain far south of here outside of the Great Keep."

Valdis shook her head in confusion.

"I've never heard of such a place."

"Gil'ead," the shorter Ra'zac snapped, "Gil'ead."

"That's dozens of leagues from here!"

The Ra'zac stared at her blankly for once not hissing or clicking at her.

"What would receive in return?"

"Twelve leaguesss from here there isss a sssmall camp of Varden ssscoutsss who youdo not know of. They are the sssecond ssscouting party that was sssent. That information wasss an act of good will, little sssparrow. Ussse it!"

Valdis turned to look at Murtagh who was silent for a moment as he thought. His eyes ever left the Ra'zac as he called for the captain, a short man with a robust figure.

"Take 30 men of all rank and go to the mountain of Marna. It is east of Gil'ead and southeast of us here."

"Yes, Majesty."

"It will be some time before you get what you want," Valdis pointed as a few men assembled and mounted horses, "Are you truly content to wait here for as long as need be without hunting or killing any men?"

"We will wait-"

"We will wait," the shorter one echoed.

"But not for long."

Valdis looked to Murtagh who after a moment nodded his head at her. He gestured with an arm for Valdis to go ahead of him and they walked in the snow till they were out of sight of the cages in the forest. Valdis heard the clicking and hissing as they left.

"They won't keep their word will they?" Valdis asked as they stopped before their horses.

"No, it's not likely," Murtagh looked at her with a calculating expression and Valdis waited for him to speak.

"I don't understand why they would speak to you that way. Tell you those things."

"Perhaps they think it won't matter since they'll kill me."

Murtagh dryly chuckled at that and nodded.

"I won't say it's like they trust you. But there's something there that I am not seeing clearly."

"What are they?" Valdis asked as the things in the great cage railed and screeched.

"They are servants of the king, and the last of their kind in all of this land. They disappeared many months ago until you so cleverly found them."

"I wasn't looking I was just lost."

Murtagh nodded but did not take his gaze away from the road in front of them

"That is usually the best way to find things. You are lucky, milady, I have never heard of a story where an encounter with the Ra'zac was left without blood."

"I have you to thank for that, your grace. They had just agreed to eat me moments before you and your mighty dragon arrived."

Murtagh's eyes narrowed at her words.

"They had just _agreed _to eatyou?"

Valdis nodded and pulled her reins tighter her horse slowed to the pace of Murtaghs and their legs touched. They acted as though it was nothing unusual, but they both felt it.

"Yes, they said that they hadn't eaten in weeks."

Murtagh was silent. Valdis watched him for a moment before pressing.

"Do they-? Are they-?"

Murtagh looked down at her with a rather apologetic face as her mind wrapped around the truth.

"They _hunt humans?_ They actually _eat _us? I thought perhaps it was a farce."

Murtagh looked down at her with a look that chastised her for being so naïve.

"There are many tales of the Ra'zac's doings. There was simply no one left alive to tell of it. Think hard, milady. Has there ever been an attack that was so brutal and so horrible that the people of your village turned against each other? That they locked their doors and barred their windows against neighbors and never let the children play in the street?"

Valdis looked away to the mountains as she thought and Murtagh waited patiently as they rode along.

"Oh," she finally murmured.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"They never came to the sea though. The attacks were always in the valleys and mountains when the merchants came twice a year. They told us stories of creatures on the road that stole men in the night and left bones in the morning."

Murtagh nodded again and adjusted in the saddle.

"Any worthy lady would give a man a kiss for saving her life as you did mine. Yet, I suppose it would make the spy in the woods behind you suspicious wouldn't it?"

Murtagh looked over to her, slightly impressed.

"You noticed."

Valdis shrugged innocently.

"He's not very good at staying hidden. I saw him on our walk back to the horses."

"_She_ is a spy for the king."

"He watches you?"

"Always," Murtagh gruffed and he kicked forward on his horse to quicken their pace, "You have spies as well you know."

"Following me?"

Murtagh shook his head.

"At your command I mean," he looked over at her and shook his head, "I would have thought you would have used the power you have by now. Being my mistress is much more than simply bedding me in the evening and being pretty."

"Oh, so you think I am pretty?" she teased.

Murtagh laughed.

"Very."

Valdis colored. I was a rare moment of light heartedness that she wished to not ruin.

"You can do what you like you know; you don't have to stay in the tent all day. Rumor has it that I chain you to the bed."

"But you don't!" Valdis protested, outraged.

"No," he chuckled, "But you rarely leave." He shifted in his saddle and his eyes darkened. It took him a moment to speak but when he did he spoke clearly and firmly, without a tone of uncertainty or nervousness to color his voice.

"I do not regard you as my slave, Valdis. You are as free as you were before. You can do as you like."

"Thank you," Valdis said gently looking away from him, "but I am perfectly content to be chained to your bed all day and night."

Murtagh laughed loudly and shook his head at her when his laughter faded he was serious again but the ghost of humor trailed in his eyes still.

"I am contented you find it a pleasurable place to be, mistress Valdis."

When she looked over at him he was gazing at her with the dark eyes of desire.

"Your grace-"

"Yes milady."

"Would it be terribly disgraceful to have you in front of the spy? When she leaves then we can continue on with even more scandalous behavior and make a night of it."

The Valdis from a few months ago would have been horrified to learn that she would say these words in her future, but now she was excited and thrilled to see the Rider's reaction as she did so.

"Milady-"

"Yes, your grace?" she replied demurely.

"That would be wonderful if I was a not already frozen."

"I'm sure our activities would warm you."

Murtagh chuckled again at her enthusiasm and sighed.

"Would you prefer a tree or the snow?"

"As it please you."

"You always do."

Valdis giggled.

"It heartens me to hear it, milord," she replied honestly hiding her knowing smile. She wouldn't tell him though that her recent skill arose from a long and delightful conversation with a girl from a pleasure house that had taken up residence in Lord Rohm's tent for the past week. Her sudden knowledge with pillow tricks would perplex him for a while longer, and Valdis stifled a large grin at the thought of that future conversation. Needless to say it would be a hands-on demonstration. For the full effect.

Valdis did not have the Rider in the snow or against a tree. She did not have him at all that night and she didn't mind. Their teasing came and went and nothing was taken seriously when they quipped sly insults back at one another, delighting in the verbal challenge. It was a rather youthful thing to do and it took her mind away from the battle she had witnessed days before.

But not all things are forgotten.

* * *

><p>Murtagh growled suddenly and pushed away his plate. Valdis looked up startled and watched as he sat back in his chair with the slightest of huffs.<p>

"Are you ill?" Murtagh demanded staring at her forcefully.

"No, milord," Valdis lied meekly.

"Has something happened?"

Valdis shook her head.

"You are unhappy. I want to know why."

"I'm not-"

"Denying it will make this night longer and I will bind you to that chair if it's what it takes to beget the truth from you. Speak."

"It's silly and weak and female. I won't trouble you with my troubles, milord. It's not why I'm here."

Murtagh tilted his head to the side for a moment before he spoke and Valdis rolled a grape around her plate.

"Do you consider being my mistress a chore?"

Valdis brow furrowed as she looked up.

"No, milord."

"Do you think that you are treated unfairly?"

"No, milord," Valdis replied truthfully. She knew she was given the treatment of a noble lady. A very _rich _one.

Murtagh paused for a moment and his eyes grew dim. Valdis tried not to wither under his gaze.

"Do you have…news…to tell me?"

Valdis saw the apprehension clearly in Murtagh's face and his hands were balled into fists against the armrests of his chair. Valdis understood in a moment and smiled warmly at him.

"I am not with child, milord."

Murtagh relaxed visibly and he took a deep breath the air seemed to clear.

"Then…what makes you so unhappy?"

Valdis looked down at her plate for a moment before pushing it away. She braced herself with her hands on the table and rose. Murtagh watched her as she walked over to him she stood for a breath before he pushed out his chair. She sat on his lap but instead of embracing him as she usually did she folded her hands.

"I could not save a single man that day on the plains. When you fought the Varden."

Murtagh was silent. Valdis was glad for it.

"I was walking and I heard a moan from the edge of the camp. There was fog and snow and then there was a figure and another and another. Covered in grim and blood and moaning for help from anyone. I thought that the end had come and that the dead were walking."

Valdis laughed and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.

"Some were burnt clean through their skin. I peeled away leather and linen and I took flesh and vein with it. There was nothing I could do. By the time I stumbled into the forest I was half mad and slick with blood from a hundred soldiers. I fell asleep in the snow and woke to be greeted by the Ra'zac."

Murtagh didn't move or say a word and it was Valdis was expecting and what she wanted. The things she saw that night were things that she would never forget even if she lived for a hundred years. It tore at her in ways that she was not expecting and buried itself inside of her. Murtagh shifted in his seat and Valdis looked at him. What affected him was that way she looked and he couldn't believe he had been s blind as to not notice how grey she looked. How pale and drawn with shades of purple beneath her eyes and a weakness in her presence. As if what she saw had taken a piece of her.

"It's not something that you will forget," Murtagh whispered firmly. "It is not something that leaves you easily but it will not last forever."

Valdis nodded and stood with the beginnings of tears starting to sting her eyes, Murtagh missed the weight of her immediately. Yet, Valdis would be damned if he saw her cry.

"Thank you…Murtagh," she whispered and with a slight curtsy she left the tent and Murtagh was left to ponder what she had told him.

_That was brave of her_ Thorn commented after a time.

Murtagh hummed in agreement but he hadn't heard what Thorn had said.

_She trusts you. Perhaps that should count as something._

_I am a traitor. Her trust means her death._


	5. The Mountain of Marna

"How old were you?" Valdis asked as Midri brushed her hair.

"I was nine when my mother sold me to pleasure house."

"Nine?"

Midri hummed in agreement.

"You were so young!"

Midri laughed as she untangled Valdis' hair.

"I didn't touch man for three years, lady."

Valdis shifted amongst the pillows of the bed. Midri had invited her to Lord Rohm's tent as the higher military men held council. Not wanting to spend a night with silence Valdis had readily accepted an offer for female company.

"It took you three years to learn how to please a man?"

"You learn other things," Midri said secretly in her exotic voice. "How to dance like courtesan from Surda. Move your body in such way that you finish man with twirl of your hips."

"Finish a man? Oh."

Midri winked at Valdis and they sniggered.

"We were taught how to please men in different ways. With hands and mouths-"

"Your _mouth?_"

"Yes, lady,"

"I couldn't do that," Valdis confided. "I think I would laugh too much."

Midri smiled a crooked sort of smile and she cast a glance at the tent opening where the shadows of two guards could be seen. She leaned in to Valdis and they spoke in whispers.

"I did too with my first man," she purred in her accented voice. The common tongue was not her first language; she had learned it when she had been sold to the pleasure house and now the language of her people colored her voice and made it soft and dark, like the deep shadowy coloring of her skin.

"Really?"

Midri nodded and swept Valdis' brown hair over her shoulder so she could plait it for her.

"I had practice of course, but it was different. The woman who ran the house gave me handsome man… to make it easier for me but still," Midri blushed and looked away for a moment, smiling at the memory.

"But still?" Valdis prompted.

"I could not stop myself from laughing. I was lucky though," Midri confided as her quick dark fingers weaved Valdis' hair.

"Why?" asked Valdis, completely enraptured.

"He liked that I was laughing so much. He said that he liked how I thought everything was funny. He came back every night for two weeks."

"And you…_laughed_…the_ whole time?_"

Midri nodded her head fervently with a large smile and the two girls erupted into laughter that they tried to stifle with pillows from the bed.

Valdis bit her lip harshly as Midri finished the braid. It was complex and pretty with four strands and while she thought Valdis played with it for a moment while Midri threw another log into the fire pit.

"Can you teach me?" Valdis asked.

"Teach you?" Midri asked as she brought over another platter of food for them to devour.

"Teach me-," Valdis looked over Midri's shoulder to the shadows of the guards and lowered her voice. "Teach me to please a man with my mouth?"

Midri smiled wickedly, her exotic pale green eyes glinting in the orange light.

"If you'd like."

"Will it take three years?"

Midri smiled before she shook her head.

"The mistress of my brothel could finish man in five minutes."

"How long does it take you?" Valdis asked with wide eyes, feeling a rush of secrecy as she spoke of things she hadn't before.

Midri laughed.

"It depends on man. How much he wants you," Midri paused for a moment and toyed with the edge of Valdis sleeping shift which was embroidered with gold ribbon. She averted her eyes as she spoke.

"Is the Rider quick with wanting for you?"

Valdis' brow furrowed. Midri sighed and shook her head as she thought of another way to ask.

"Is he like rock?"

Valdis burst into laughter and Midri hit her with a pillow on her arm as she shushed her and looked over her shoulder to the guard's shadows outside of the tent.

"Yes, he always is. I don't usually…_provoke_…him. He…he comes to me."

Midri smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically.

"This is good. This is good thing. You please him then."

"I never have before," Valdis said. "Not before him."

Midri listened patiently and nodded.

"This is good that I teach you. You will learn art of lover. He will never leave bed if you are in it."

Valdis giggled and shook her head in disbelief. Both of the young woman looked to the tent when the guards spoke to one another and laughed over something. They leaned in close to talk in soft voices.

"I doubt it. That I could keep him there."

Midri sighed and shook her hands in front of her.

"This is no good. You won't even try first."

"Well…its…its…"

"It's what?"

Valdis shrugged in frustration and forced herself to not flush in discomfiture.

"It's embarrassing," she finally relented weakly.

Midri looked at her for a moment with an expressionless face of disbelief.

"You must command him," Midri said determinedly. "You must mount him and ride."

"He isn't a horse!"

Midri shook her hands in front of her again to stop Valdis.

"We are animal, lady. It is known. We were born from fire of dragon gods, we have beast in us. We have horse, and snake. Wolf and bear. Inside of here," Midri pressed her palm to Valdis' chest where her heart beat.

"You are animal, lady. He is animal. The love of man and woman is animal. It is known."

"How do I ride him differently from a horse than a snake?"

Midri smiled knowingly and nodded her head. She took Valdis' hand and held it firmly.

"This I will teach you. These things I know."

* * *

><p>"I don't think the king will want the Ra'zac if they are without their parents," Valdis said with chattering teeth as she stood in the snow.<p>

"He would consider it only half of what was promised," agreed Murtagh who stood a few feet away.

They stood by a small stream that had frozen over in the extreme cold. It was a mile or so from camp and Thorn sat close to them with his tail flicking lazily as if he were a cat. His vermillion eyes glinted darkly as he listened to them.

"And that would be very bad for you and Thorn," Valdis stated as she wrapped her cloak around her.

Murtagh didn't reply but the truth of it hung heavily in the wintry air around them. There was no sound but their voices and the wind.

"So it's very simple then. Bring the parents back and send them off to the King to serve him and the realm."

Murtagh turned to her in the snow and he stared off into the distant trees as he thought. His face darkened and his brow furrowed as he spoke. He seemed unwilling to reveal something.

"The King has tasked me with this mission especially."

Valdis shook her head in surprise.

"You sent thirty men-"

"Who have not returned as they should have a week ago," he corrected firmly his voice cutting her protests.

"So he wants to send you then. His weapon, his surprise."

"Yes," he looked at her with the knowledge of something more. Something he waited for her to understand and when she did she cursed loudly.

"And you want me to go with you."

Murtagh looked at her with a somewhat pained expression before he answered.

"Yes."

"_Have you gone mad?"_

Murtagh's brow perked in amusement.

"It would be best-"

"_It would be best?_ "

Murtagh stepped forward with his hands outstretched as if trying to calm a frenzied horse.

"The Ra'zac has some form of connection with you. It may prove to be the same with the lethrblaka."

"They only see me as food! What am I supposed to do? Stand in front of these creatures, curtsy and _ask_ them to not _eat_ me?"

Murtagh sighed in annoyance and Thorn blew smoke that melted the ice of the stream in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Murtagh but-"

Murtagh stared at her with cold hard eyes.

"I gave you the chance to go of your own accord now I will _command_ you to go."

Valdis opened her mouth to protest vehemently but Murtagh stepped forward menacingly with venom coloring his voice. He made himself threatening and powerful and Valdis hated when he became this way. It made her want to shrink into the ground.

"Any word of protest from you and I will make the journey as uncomfortable for you as I can."

Valdis flared at the comment and stepped forward to hit him on the chest with a flat palm in frustration.

"What will you do then, _milord_?" she spat. "Strap me to your lizard's tail?"

Thorn hackled in amusement and Murtagh's eyes glinted with fury.

"I would strap you to Thorn naked if it would make your whining stop."

Valdis took a deep breath and clenched her hands. She was free in every other aspect except from this. If he were any other man Valdis could out stubborn him if it took months. This was a Rider, a prince, a man of great power who would not be denied. Her arguing had been fruitless and it only made her situation worse. If anything she could be polite and remember her courtesies.

"As it please you, milord," she did not look at him as she bobbed a weak curtsy and gave a nod to Thorn before she backed away and disappeared into the forest. Choosing to walk back to camp through feet of fresh snow would be miserable, but the winter may cool her temper and make her amiable again by the time she returned to camp.

_She will stubborn herself to death._

_Is she any different from us when we are so commanded by the king?_

Murtagh looked over to Thorn at his comment and found his dragon staring at him with vermillion eyes.

_We have no choice. I gave her one._

_Because the choice of my tail or your saddle is truthfully a great contest. _

_Exactly._

Thorn thought over that for a few moments as Murtagh jumped up to the saddle.

_That was quite clever of you._

Murtagh grinned.

_How was it to admit that?_

_Like swallowing vinegar and curdled goat milk. Don't become accustomed to it._

* * *

><p>Valdis opened her eyes and was greeted with the darkest part of the day, the dawn. The world was tinged the color of dark sapphires and the air was freezing and unwelcoming. She could not remember what woke her in the first place.<p>

"Lady, you must rise."

Valdis shook her head and moaned as she rolled over.

"Midri?"

The dark skinned woman with exotic pale green eyes knelt next to the bed with clothes folded in her lap. She reached out a hand and touched Valdis' arm who yelped at the sudden touch of cold fingertips.

"You must dress and eat. You are leaving with the dragon prince," she whispered excitedly.

Valdis remembered with a coiled stomach what she had been awakened for. Her conversation, if it could be called that, with Murtagh in the snow the other day had left a sour taste in her mouth. She had returned to his tent to find it empty and had bundled herself in the furs and had eventually fallen asleep. Valdis reached out an arm over her shoulder and touched the empty pillow. There was not even an imprint of where a person would have lain.

"The dragon prince was not here when I came."

Valdis rose slowly and braced herself against the chill of the morning. Her bare feet touched the ground and even the thick woven carpets of Surda felt like ice against her warm skin.

"You must wear these," Midri instructed and left them beside the bed before she moved about the dark tent doing something Valdis could not see.

The clothes were pants of dark brown leather that better suited a soldier than her but upon pulling them out of the neat pile she saw that the waist was smaller than a mans and the legs were thinner and cuffed at the end to wrap snugly around a small ankle. Valdis breathed as she slipped them on underneath her shift and gave a little yelp when the cool leather kissed the lips between her legs. She shivered and laced the pants before realizing that they had been tailored to fit her, and rather snugly. The leather was soft and easy to move in and began to grow warm within moments of being worn. Midri bustled over to pull Valdis' shift over her head and she helped her pull on a tunic of thick coarse linen and a patterned leather jerkin that fit closely across her chest. Midri worked at the buckles before she gave Valdis a quilted doublet to wear.

"This is for a man, Midri," Valdis said holding out the jacket.

"It is for you. Try it," she encouraged.

Valdis sighed and decided it was too early in the morn to protest, she shrugged on the doublet and also found that it too was tailored to her body and fit well to her shape. She pulled back a loose piece of it that she had yet to button and saw that a barb was sticking out of the quilting. She plucked it out and examined it, goose feathers. Wherever she was supposed to journey it seemed it would be just as cold as the forest.

"Lady! Quickly!"

Valdis sat down awkwardly in the pants and pulled on thick wool socks that were stuffed into her boots. By the time she was dressed and ready Midri had plaited her hair away from her face and had all but force fed her a hot drink that tasted earthy and slightly bitter with hot bread and bacon.

"His Majesty's guard wish to enter the tent. Is the lady presentable?"

Midri looked to Valdis who nodded over a mouthful of bread and hot drink.

"Lady is ready."

Stahl entered cautiously and smiled when he saw Valdis who stood and bowed slightly to him.

"You make a fine looking woman even in men's clothes. It suits you if I may be so bold to say."

"I feel strange. I'm not used to wearing pants."

Stahl laughed slightly and shook his head.

"Imagine it with balls between your legs," he winked and swept aside for Valdis to exit. Midri threw a strap over Valdis' shoulder and it was only till later that Valdis saw it was packed with a roll of bread, some dried meat and a book.

Valdis moved out of into the darkness and saw only rows and rows of tents that were lined outside. A typical sight, but strangely empty of something…

"Where is-?"

Stahl quickly put a finger to his lips.

"Where are the horses?" she continued quietly.

"I was not instructed to saddle one for you, milady. I was only told to bring you to the clearing outside of the south east corner of camp."

Valdis' brow furrowed slightly but she nodded and walked as quietly as she could next to Stahl who she noted was not in his armor. When she broached the question to Stahl he replied that even well polished armor made too much noise. He had been told to be especially quiet in delivering her to the clearing and to remain unseen by the rest of the men. It was difficult with night watchmen making their last rounds and they had to duck behind a few tents more than once to avoid being seen. By the time they reached the clearing Valdis was wide awake and rosy with the cold. But the clearing was empty.

"Am I supposed to wait?"

Stahl looked around also with a look of slight confusion but he had no answer. After a moment of scanning the forest line he shook his head.

"I don't think I should leave you, milady. If you are caught by soldiers they may not recognize you in your new clothing. It could go badly for you."

Valdis turned to look behind her at the camp which was at least a hundred yards away and shuddered slightly at the thought.

"Are you armed?"

"Always," and without thinking Stahl gestured to his belt and it was attached with a large jagged edged blade that made Valdis cringe at the thought of it touching her skin. When she looked away from the blade a large figure birthed from the horizon and reached high into the heavens. It grew in size at it flew towards the cleared field and as the morning sun pushed past the fog, a ray of sunlight fell upon Thorn and his scales shone bloody red radiance in the sky. He landed gracefully with his wings outstretched and the membrane of his wings was like a glass of wine held up to light. His vermillion eyes stared regally down at Valdis and Stahl murmured a prayer to the gods and fell to the ground in a low bow.

Valdis stood still and kept Thorn's intense gaze, after a moment of growling his long face moved towards her. He exhaled sharply and Valdis' face was smoldered for a moment with hot breath that made her feel as though she had put her face in front of a kiln. Valdis slowly averted her eyes and knelt in the grass.

"Greetings, Bloodscales. I hope that you are well this morn."

Thorn snorted and Valdis felt the jet of flame above her head.

"Stahl," Murtagh called, as he slid out of the saddle and landed lightly. "You were with some whore of the camp last night and woke late this morning. That is why you were not at your post. You were never here. You never saw us."

Murtagh reached to his belt and with a sharp flick of his wrist broke off the leather strap of a bulging money purse and tossed it to Stahl who caught it without looking up.

"Thank you, Your Majesty.'

"Who are you thanking? No one is here."

Stahl stood as if Valdis did not stand next to him and turned sharply to walk briskly through the field back towards the camp. He did not turn once to look over his shoulder at them. Murtagh was appraising her when Valdis turned around and he seemed pleased when he nodded and walked over to Thorn's side. He motioned her over with his hand and Valdis hesitantly approached him. Thorn followed her around, craning his neck to watch her.

"I can lift you but you need to pull yourself into the saddle," he reached over to grab her by the arm and he pulled her towards thick leather straps that wrapped under Thorn's great belly. There was a loop of leather that reached her waist and more loose straps periodically higher up on the great saddle. It looked as though it could fit two and saddlebags were securely attached to the back of it.

"Put your foot there," Murtagh instructed touching the loop near Valdis' waist. "Then pull yourself to the saddle."

Valdis nodded tersely and cast a cursory glance at Thorn who watched with eyes that seemed to glitter with amusement.

"Will he mind?" Valdis whispered rolling her eyes behind her to Thorn.

Murtagh raised a single brow.

"If he did you wouldn't be in one piece."

Valdis jerked at that and placed a careful hand to steady herself against Thorn's scaly side as Murtagh cupped his hands for her boot. She was smoothly lifted up by him – something that impressed her- and slipped the tip of her boot into the loop of leather before hauling herself up into the saddle. She felt precariously perched on the great dragon and felt Thorn's deep breathing as it lifted her and dropped her like the swells of the ocean. The saddle was warm and worn and a thick woven blanket cushioned the leather seat beneath her. Murtagh leapt up Thorn's leg and walked carefully past the sharp white spikes. He slid behind her in the saddle and Valdis was pushed forward slightly as Murtagh's body was pressed snugly against hers. It made her loins burn for a moment at the suggestiveness of his motion and she brushed aside the thoughts that threatened to make her heart race.

Murtagh whispered something below her hearing and the straps that had hung loose came to life and wrapped themselves securely around his legs. Valdis looked nervously at them; she hoped it didn't mean they would by flying upside down anytime soon.

"How long is the journey?"

Murtagh was silent for a moment as he tested the saddle tugging on straps here and there.

"If we do not stop often to rest and we ride hard we could be there by nightfall."

Valdis nodded meekly and grabbed the horn of the saddle, she was glad at least that if she was tired she might be able to lean against Murtagh for sleep. Marna was leagues and leagues away the fact that they could be there in a day rather than a week betrayed the true nature of a dragon. He was far more powerful than she had imagined, and twice as fast.

"Don't scream."

"Wha-?"

Before she could fully ask Thorn sprung into the sky and began to climb through the air with the powerful beating of his wings. Higher and higher they rose till the earth below them seemed to be painted and the imperfections gave way to something that seemed to be a picture drawn by a child. The plains stretched out before them and the shadows of the rising sun cast long silhouettes of them along the ground. The air blew through her face and the higher they climbed the cooler it was. Yet it was not something she minded. She had been dressed warmly and she could feel the heat of Murtagh's body behind her.

Though the sun was rising, it only peeked over the horizon and they chased the dawn to the west before eventually turning southeast to the direction of Marna, the lonely half mountain that was desolate of life. Its true story was shrouded with myth; it changed from village to village. One thing that could be agreed upon was that nothing alive went near it, the nomadic peoples of the desert did not dare venture towards it and the merchant caravans never stopped within leagues of it. It seemed rather silly to Valdis when she had first heard those stories but now she was filled with dread.

Her well being was entirely dependent on someone who loved himself…maybe his dragon if the beast was lucky. The idea did not sit well with her. It made her sad to think ill of Murtagh but Blagden's words of prophecy painted a grim picture for Murtagh's future and a hard journey for Valdis. She shifted uncomfortably and Murtagh shifted with her as though he were a reaction to her action, in tune and connected. The hopeful thoughts of returned affection were battered away into the darkest corners of her mind and locked there, though traces of it remained to taunt her.

Thorn's right wing lifted as his left wing dropped and Valdis weight was thrown sideways at the sudden movement. Valdis yelped as she began to slide and dug her right leg into Thorn's side but the action was rather unnecessary. Murtagh's arm had slithered around her waist and the other had reached around and under her arm to grip the horn of the saddle. She was secure before she even had a moment to think she would fall to her death.

Thorn dropped low through the cloud bank and the tips of his wings dispersed bits of the sky as he flew with a current of wind. Valdis smiled and giggled slightly at the exhilaration and she felt Murtagh's chest vibrate slightly in what she was sure was amusement at her childish behavior. The light moment was gone however as soon as they saw the mountain of Marna.

It was a mole on the otherwise plain landscape and it stuck out with a fierce disposition. It appeared from the sky as if it were a needle sticking through the beautiful gold silk of the wheat that stretched through the land. It was harsh looking and craggy, made of dark grey stone that fell off of the mountain in huge flat slates of rock the size of a house. The top of the mountain had spires of sharp rock that stuck out around the rim of the crater like a grotesque crown and the sight of it made her shiver. There was no vegetation even at the base of the mountain and the sides looked much too steep to climb and there seemed to be no place to fly.

Thorn glided smoothly down and down till Valdis could see the waves of wind created by the dragon's great wings and he landed gracefully hopping slightly at the end of their flight as his momentum caught up to him. Valdis stared at the craggy giant beside them and she wasn't the only one. Thorn growled loudly and blew smoke and small jets of fire as he gazed upon the mountain. He shifted around in the grass like a cat till only he faced the mountain, and Murtagh was safe behind him.

"They're here aren't they?" Valdis whispered over her shoulder and she gazed up to Murtagh who regarded Marna with a dark look of reluctance. Thorn paced slightly and began to flap his wings, he growled and blew fire and paced backwards and forwards as though facing an enemy. When he reared and roared Valdis shrieked and covered her ears, but her voice was drowned out in the dragon's great bellowing. Murtagh unstrapped his legs and leapt out of the saddle rolling as he hit the ground. He was up too fast for Valdis to see but he was standing in front of Thorn as he fussed waving his arms in front of him and shouting things that Valdis could not hear. She gripped the saddle tightly till her arms screamed in protest and did her best to not be bucked off as Thorn continually reared and bellowed.

He finally stopped and acquiesced to snarling viciously and Murtagh gave Thorn a wide berth as he moved back over to the saddle. He held out his arms slightly.

"I'll catch you."

Valdis gave a wary glance at the back of Thorn's head as he began to grow restless again but Murtagh called out his name in warning and he stilled for a moment as Valdis leapt down. Murtagh helped steady her as she stood and before he could stop her she had moved to the front of Thorn and began clapping at him to catch his attention. He had been staring over her head- not entirely difficult- and growling at the mountain. Thorn's bloody gaze looked down at her after a moment.

"You're a great dragon, Bloodscales. And great dragons protect their Rider's. I'm sure you trust yourself to protect him should he ever need you. All this fussing isn't necessary. So stop it. You'll give us away with this temper tantrum."

Thorn growled at her and his tail swung angrily behind him.

"Valdis-," Murtagh called in warning as he watched from the side, standing stiffly in the grass.

"Now every dragon has his manners I'm sure," Valdis continued. "You don't growl at a lady who wants to help. Now we both want Murtagh safe. We both will keep him safe, you understand?"

Thorn snorted smoke and nodded his great head.

"Alright then," Valdis said putting her arms on her waist. "Now be useful and make a fire. You don't want your Rider freezing to death do you?"

She barely had time to finish her words before Thorn craned his head around and blew a great stream of red fire at a chunk of flat rock that within a few moments blazed orange with heat. Murtagh walked over to Thorn and placed both his hands on the dragon's side. He spoke and Valdis could not hear the words but from the gentle tone of his voice she was certain it was private. She had enough tact to turn away and began to slowly walk towards the mountain.

They were barely a league away but Marna towered over them and brushed low lying clouds. Chunks of rock hidden in the grass made her stumble and painfully jerk her ankles but she was grateful for the movement. The saddle was not comfortable after a whole days ride and her legs felt weak. By the time the light was gone the sky glittered with diamonds and the only way the mountain could be seen was by noticing that great space of darkness that covered the stars. Murtagh and Thorn were looking at her as she walked back to them. She had followed the orange light of the gleaming rock to find her way.

"I was debating whether or not to go looking for you," Murtagh said with a light tone. Valdis knew too well that he was disguising his displeasure.

"I'm sorry," Valdis said truthfully. "I thought perhaps you would have appreciated a moment alone with your dearest friend. He seemed to need the comfort."

Murtagh nodded once at her words and Thorn moved around till his back was facing the mountain and he plopped down roughly in the grass. He curved his tail to Valdis height and patted her roughly a few times before she stumbled forward and lightly pushed away his tail with a laugh. Thorn rumbled and settled his head in his front arms he closed his eyes but his ears were pricked up, observing the world Valdis knew, for danger.

Murtagh had laid out bedding for the both of them and she sat gratefully on the large bearskin he had rolled out. It was thick and soft and she was warmed from the heat of the rock and the lack of wind. Valdis had Thorn to thank for that, luckily he had created a wind barrier by choosing to lie between them and the mountain. Murtagh was working through their saddlebags looking for something she was sure but she was too tired to mind. She fell asleep and when she was next awake it was only for a moment that she felt Murtagh lay beside her on the bearskin with his arm pressed against her back. The rock was only dimly yellow but the heat was soothing and she was lulled into sleep.

Valdis dreamt that she was the moon and that her light was dancing among her children, the stars. They waited with her, twinkling with laughter and anticipation as they waited to greet their father at the break of day, to see his brilliant golden warmth and to bask in the radiant glory. The moon waited for her lover the sun, and when she saw the dawn she smiled.

* * *

><p>The next few days were filled with frustration.<p>

There was no path to the top of the great spires and when they had tried to climb the mountain, rock gave way beneath them and they returned to camp nursing scraps that bled terribly and stung even worse. Murtagh healed her shredded arms and Valdis threw away her dignity and curled up next to him as they went to sleep, taking comfort in his even breathing and warmth.

He had the sense to turn his back when she was near tears by the third day. They'd had another painful day of scrapes and swearing complete with several avalanches of rock that had nearly crushed them both to death. They had stopped when the wind was high, the air was bitterly cold and they could not grip the rocks without their fingers slipping with sweat or blood. It was one of the few most trying days of Valdis' life and she was beaten down to an exhausted pulp by the end of it.

When they made their way back to camp Thorn covered them with his wings he stuck his head in after them and seemed content to be that way. Murtagh had used magic to heat a small pile of rocks near them and had promised Valdis that they would not harm Thorn's wings.

"Fire cannot harm a dragon," he reassured her as she curled her body around him. When he looked down at her, he kissed her. They were tired but their passion grew immediately and Valdis realized it had been a week since he had last bedded her. The harsh climate of Marna made them miserable and they had been reduced to wounded wills and suffering spirits. It was a good day if they could eat a little, stay warm, and sleep well.

Game was scarce so their meals were smoked meat and water.

The winter bit at their exposed skin and made their joints stiff.

The wind howled so loudly at night that it kept them awake till the early hours of the morning.

They were starving, cold, and deprived of good rest.

They were angry and miserable and Murtagh kissing Valdis was something hot and good and very pleasant. The first nice thing in what seemed to be months of misery. Their mouths were slick and hot and Valdis moaned when Murtagh deepened the kiss with his tongue. He shifted to lay over her and his knee parted her legs, his hip pressed against her and she sighed and arched neck so Murtagh could nibble at her throat. She had been throbbing when his lips had first touched hers and she was growing warmer every moment that he spent over her. She tore at the buckles of his jerkin and ran her hands under his tunic till she felt the hard planes of his stomach. Murtagh's kissing became fiercer and more demanding and he pushed his hips against her with a groan.

Valdis undid her own jerkin and shucked it off hastily then she let Murtagh pull the tunic over her head. She didn't even have time to get it off of her arms before he pressed them above her head and kissed her exposed breasts. He nibbled and licked a trail down her stomach till he reached her navel and he yanked at the strings of her breeches with his teeth. She could feel his hot breath against her cold stomach and she smiled, delirious with pleasure. She laughed slightly when she felt his teeth scrap her skin and she reached down to pull him back up, nearly entirely by his hair, and smother his mouth with hers. She was yanking at his tunic as he peeled away the leather encasing her legs and she watched him, biting her lip, as he undid his own breeches and leaned forward to her. She pushed the edges down off his hips and let him divulge at the canvas of her throat before lifting her knee's to shift and lay against him perfectly.

Murtagh bore down on her with a growl in his throat and they arched against each other with open mouths, biting at each other's lips. Valdis gripped his strong shoulders as desire gripped her and her legs squeezed his waist drawing the breath from him slightly. He hovered over Valdis as he kissed her face nipping at the skin along her jaw. He nudged her face aside with his nose and pressed his face to her shoulder; he groaned and lightly punched his fist into the ground.

"What?" Valdis asked pressing her face to his hair stroking it with her free hand.

"Thorn is not happy."

Valdis took a moment before she understood and when she did she shrank back into the bearskin with embarrassment.

"Oh."

Murtagh forcefully rolled off of her and lay breathing heavily beside her. She rolled over and lifted herself up on an elbow and tentatively rested a hand on his chest while he breathed. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched tightly. Valdis was doing her best to ignore the throbbing heat between her legs and she pulled her tunic over her head. She turned her back and breathed steadily.

"Sorry, Thorn," she whispered and she touched his wing which formed a bloody tent over them. Through the thin membrane she saw the grass whipping in the harsh wind and heard the ruthless whistling of the grass outside. Thorn rumbled in acceptance. Valdis prepared herself for another cold hard night and closed her eyes. Murtagh reached over to her with grunt and roughly turned her over before pulling her to his body. He ran a hand down the length of her spine and over her bottom pulling her leg over his hip. He held onto her tightly and rested his face in her hair. Valdis was unsure for a moment whether he would turn her over and have her at his own leisure but he remained silent and the only sound he only moved as he breathed.

Valdis relaxed against him and huddled closer as she fell asleep. She didn't see it but Murtagh had been gazing down at her as she fell asleep. He enjoyed her warmth and the touch of her skin against his body. How she was heat and sweetness against him, with her lips and her soft hair that always smelled sugary and clean. He splayed his fingers and pressed them softly into her side, while his other arm tightened around her shoulder drawing her closer to him.

_I would greatly appreciate it if you would quiet your thoughts. If I followed them I would end of killing her by attempting to lick her face as you do._

_It's called kissing._

_Whatever it is called it is repulsive._

_I could continue if you'd like_ Murtagh threatened. The hardness in his still undone breeches was only just then painfully subsiding but with the slightest encouragement…

_If you value the breeding ability of your appendage, little dragon, you will not even dream of touching her._

_As it please you._

_It does to no end. I may actually sleep tonight._

Valdis shifted and slipped her hand beneath his tunic. She gazed up at him with coy eyes and rubbed his bare stomach. Murtagh looked down at her with an amused face before he closed the space between their lips. Valdis felt fire surge between them and she moaned. Murtagh pulled her over from her side till she lay on top of him, and he pulled her up towards him till her legs fell over his hips. He sat up suddenly and leaned back, devouring her lips ad biting her skin till he tasted blood. The anger from the week of misery came mixing through with their desire and Valdis was fisting her hands through his hair so harshly sharp pain coursed through Murtagh's skull. But the pain of pulled hair paled in comparison to the painful stiffness in his breeches. He wanted nothing more than to force her down and pin her arms above her head. Listening to her cries of pleasure as she ploughed into her, taking what was his.

Murtagh and Valdis moaned into their mouths and they had one another so tightly grasped that they rocked as their lips fought each other. Valdis tilted her head back and felt Murtagh bite into her throat harshly. Valdis yelped and pressed down against his hips as hard as she could. She felt a twinge of pleasure and the aching continued. Murtagh ran his hands over her breasts, molding them against his palms and pinching her nipples between his fingers.

Valdis gasped and buried her head into his shoulder as she slowly began to ride him through their clothes. Murtagh found the concaves of her hips and pressed down with his hands. He moved her against him slowly and steadily pressing his head against Valdis' hard as sharp twinges of pleasure shot through him. He growled, baring his teeth as he bit her cheek. Valdis kissed his cheek and rested against him. She rode him harder and ended her ministrations with sharp strikes. The snake, as Midri had taught her. She grasped his shoulders and leaned back, shoving her center against his hips harder. She cried out and shut her eyes, nearly coming apart at the teasing ribbons of pleasure that tore through her.

Murtagh's hands would leave bruises against her hips she knew, but the lines of pleasure and pain blurred greatly in their lust. Murtagh flipped her over and her hair splayed out against the bearskin. The red glare of light against her skin made her glow and her eyes were hazy with desire. She blinked up slowly at him but her chest heaved. Murtagh sat on his haunches and ran his hands along the undersides of her thighs till they gripped the cheeks of her buttocks. He looked down at her for a moment before harshly tugging her to his hips. Valdis cried out and groaned, arching against him. He bore down on her and pushed her head harshly to the side, he bit down hard against her throat and Valdis squirmed beneath him emitting small whimpers of pain. Her hands searched his torso and she traced the planes of his body.

Her eyes grew dark and wicked and she raked them harshly across his chest till she drew blood. She sat up suddenly and straddled him, she squeezed till she hurt and Murtagh was panting past the restriction. Groaning and burying his head in her shoulder. She ran her face through his hair and down to his neck where she nipped lightly till she tasted metal on her tongue. Murtagh laughed lightly to which Valdis growled and pulled his head back by his hair. She tip toed her fingers along his shoulder and with a shriek drew her fingers across his back. Murtagh pushed her down on the bearskin palette and yanked at her breeches, long red marks marred her thighs as he pulled the leather from her skin.

Valdis laughed delighted as he pushed her thighs apart and fell upon her. She smiled with glee when he filled her and moaned with every thrust after. He had pinned her to the bearskin palette and grunted with each thrust. The pleasure came from deep within her and it was so intense she whimpered and clung onto Murtagh as tightly as she could. Her hands clawed deep into his shoulder and her legs were fiercely secured to his waist. When he thrusted she jerked with him and she begged him, she pleaded with every ounce of her voice for him to stop. But her body betrayed her and she truly did not want it to stop. Her mind, the part that was not taken with these primal instincts urged her to stop but the animal within her growled with release and Murtagh's cries of intense pleasure muffled her own gasping. They fell asleep intertwined with one another as the harsh wind of Marna howled outside.

* * *

><p>When Valdis awoke she thought she was bathed in blood.<p>

It was only the light from Thorn's wings filtering through the ruby membrane. As she rose her hand touched a pile of clothes, she presumed that they had been left for her. When she gently pushed Thorn's wing out of the way the sky was black with rolling clouds and there was warmth in the air. All was silent and still but there was the gentlest of breezes that floated through the air.

"We have to reach the lethrblaka's nest before nightfall. If we don't we'll be torn apart by this weather."

Valdis turned and looked over to Murtagh who appeared with bulging water skins.

"There isn't a stream nearby. How did you-?" she trailed.

Murtagh examined her for a moment before he let the water skins fall from his shoulders to the saddlebags and he squatted in the dirt. He looked up and beckoned her over.

"Sit," he directed.

He scooped away dirt with his hands till a small hole was present. He placed his right hand over the dirt.

"_Adurna risa_."

It took a moment before she could see but a gentle torrent of clear water streamed through from the bottom of the hole and filled it to the top. When Murtagh moved his hand away he shrugged slightly at his handy work.

"You take it from the ground beneath us?"

"I am only bringing it to the surface and when you take what you need-"

The water soaked through the dirt and marred it with dark moist earth.

"- you release it."

Valdis smiled.

"That's a very beautiful piece of magic."

Murtagh looked at her doubtfully.

"It's only water. There are more complex pieces of magic that would be better described as beautiful," he gestured with his hand. "This is not one of them."

"Perhaps to you" Valdis said. "To someone who cannot use magic it is very beautiful…to me it is."

Murtagh looked at her as she gazed down at the moist dirt.

"Can you do it again?" she looked up at him eagerly and Murtagh raised a brow but placed his palm over the dirt again. When the water filled to the top Valdis swept her hair behind her and leaned forward till she felt the cool water at her lips. She drank eagerly and came up with a damp face and glittering eyes.

"That's delicious!"

Murtagh chuckled at her as she leaned down to take another drink. When she was done she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly as she stood.

Murtagh regarded her with a strange expression but welcomed her with an odd note in his voice. As she wandered over to the edge of camp she past Thorn who watched her. She patted him on the snout and tickled his soft part of his nose. Thorn rumbled and shook.

_That tickled._

Valdis smiled as she watched Marna with her hands on her hips.

"That place looks awful."

Murtagh joined her in the long grass.

"I don't relish going towards Marna with this storm brewing around us," he said as he scanned the tumultuous skies above them with narrowed eyes. Valdis followed his gaze and felt his dread. The skies were so dark that she thought they might open up at any moment and pour down a tirade of fat rain and earth shaking thunder. The heavens looked deadly and she felt dismayed at the thought of flying that high…even high to reach the rocky edges of Marna and take wing inside the grey monstrosity.

"We should leave soon," Valdis said factually but her voice gave room for Murtagh to suggest otherwise.

"It's going to be a tremendous hazard," Murtagh admitted rubbing his face. "Not one I'm delighted on taking."

Valdis hummed in serious agreement and watched as the clouds visibly rolled and tumbled through the skies at a fast pace. Thorn rumbled from deep within his belly and stepped to stand beside them both.

_There is something more than this storm coming._

Valdis looked up to the great dragon and her brow furrowed. Thorn looked down at her with knowing vermillion eyes.

_What did the strange bird tell you? What did it speak of?_

Valdis blanched and stiffened.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Murtagh said and when Valdis turned to look at him he now stood facing her with his face curious and stern. He did not seem angry.

"You noticed what the Ra'zac said."

Murtagh tilted his head to the side in agreement.

"It's the reason why we are here."

"And not for the complete set of perfect servants for the king?"

Murtagh's eyes narrowed and he casually stepped towards her with an arm crossed across his chest and the other lifted to hold his clean-shaven chin.

"That business is my business," he said calmly. "But the king is not in the habit of accepting anything less than what he desires."

Valdis' face fought hard to remain collected but Murtagh could plainly see past her forced calm. She was frightened of him. The look of fear on her face was upsetting to Murtagh, it was not the reaction he wanted but it was the one he was anticipating.

"Answer me," he said simply.

Valdis told him of how she had first seen the strange white raven, of how it spoke to her in strange riddles that filled her with curiosity and dread. Told her things that confused her and made her head swim, how he spun riddles as easily as spiders spun their webs. Murtagh was silent as she spoke and only interrupted to ask her to step over to the saddle.

"He mentioned something about Thorn to I think-," Valdis muttered as she pulled herself up into the seat. Murtagh nodded distractedly as he hopped up behind her and buckled the straps around his legs.

"I'm pleased that you aren't keeping anything from me _now_," Murtagh muttered as he yanked on a buckle. "But please stop speaking. I already know everything."

Valdis turned sharply.

"What?"

Murtagh looked down at her, amused and spoke slowly. Something he knew would insult her.

"You don't guard your mind well when you sleep."

Valdis bristled unexpectedly. She liked her thoughts remaining in her own mind. She liked being left alone and Murtagh's actions seemed hypocritical and at the very least an arrogant and insensitive play on his power.

"Isn't that _rude_? I recall you telling me that a person's mind was their sanctuary. It's not a place you can take your leave whenever it pleases you. I thought you of all people would appreciate the sanctity of the mind."

As soon as the words left her she immediately regretted it and her eyes closed as she stiffened waiting for retaliation. Instead she was greeted by silence and the air was strangely...sad. Murtagh leaned over and rested his head against the side of her face, his nose brushing against her cheek. Valdis leaned her head back. Murtagh kissed the skin beneath her jaw and breathed in deeply. Valdis smiled and hummed. Murtagh chuckled when her fingers touched his thighs.

"You're very right, my lady," he paused and rested against her shoulder. "I _had_ to know. If you had kept something from me that should have been told. Something about the Varden…if you were a spy…" He trailed off and Valdis understood.

"The king would have punished you."

"As much as you if you had been a traitor."

"The risk is that high?"

Murtagh nodded grimly.

"Yes," he answered before they took to the skies. "Always."


	6. A Hideous Beauty

The flight up the craggy cliffs of Marna was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

The fierce winds blew them about constantly and veered them off any course they attempted to take. Valdis was pressed nearly flat in the saddle to avoid being blown off by the fierce winds. They could not see the tops of the great mountains spires as they had day's before and the storm that had ravaged them in nights past was already brewing again around them. The thirty men that Murtagh had sent before them had left no traces of their existence. They had seemed to vanish into the air, or deserted. And gods help them if they did. The punishment was death by quartering. Thorn growled from deep within his belly and veered sharply when a gust of wind blew from beneath his wings.

How is it the lethrblaka made their way to the top of the mountain with this type of wind? They were smaller than Thorn, true. Yet nowhere near as strong as he was. There must be something that they were missing, a collapsed side of the mountain perhaps? A tunnel?

Thorn swerved away from the mountain and dived low. Valdis smiled with the exhilaration of falling and yelped when he sharply turned upward to avoid crashing into a hidden rocky spire. There was hundreds of them that pockmarked the mountains side, hidden by the fog and larger than Thorn. It reminded Murtagh of the pikes in battle. It was not a pleasant thing to imagine oneself impaled on the harsh rock and he dismissed the thought from his mind. Valdis shivered with the cold beneath him and Murtagh tucked his cloak around her more firmly. A touch of her fingertips against his hand told him her thanks and the touch of her skin against his was a pleasant change from the harsh wind of the lonely mountain.

They must have flown for hours around Marna and it all looked the same. The Ra'zac sent them on a wild chase it seemed and was probably an act of ill will. The thirty men could be replaced yes, but not the captains. They had been hardworking, obedient, and loyal. A difficult combination to find.

Thorn perked his head up suddenly and moved his head from side to side swiftly.

_What is it?_

_There's something moving in the fog._

Murtagh broke his concentration with their connection and looked up to scan the fog.

_There's nothing there._

_You're eyes cannot see as mine can._

Murtagh grumbled and lazily gathered his magic

"_Skublaka sven."_

Immediately his vision blackened and when he turned his head every which way he saw nothing but darkness around him though the chilly wind still whistled in his ears. As he was about to release his magic there was a lull in the darkness and it widened with brilliant colors of blue and red. Everything pulsed unless he focused upon it and out of the corner of his vision he saw a black mass fly out of sight above them. The world was a bright mass of blood and sky, yet the fog blurred the clarity of his vision with green.

_What was that?_

Murtagh felt Thorn's confusion and his worry.

_Whatever it is I doubt it will give us more time to think of it._

_Agreed._

_We are limited in this fog._

_We must be close then._

_What does that serve us? They cannot see her, or smell her._

There was an earsplitting screech in the sky and Murtagh winced. His vision rippled as the sound reached them and Valdis tensed beneath him.

_They smell her._

The first lethrblaka tackled Thorn from the side and Thorn rolled down and through the air. He kicked out and threw the lethrblaka off and away into the mist.

_Are you-?_

_I am not harmed, little dragon._

There were numerous shrieks that filled the fog around them and echoed across the desolate mountain side. Valdis and Murtagh could feel the brushing wind against their faces as it was displaced against the lethrblaka's wings. Before Valdis could question what should be done the lethrblaka both rammed into Thorn from different sides and twisted him in the air. His wings were wrenched painfully in the wrong direction and the red dragon yelped in panic. They tumbled through the air and Valdis could hear Murtagh shouting through the howling wind. Thorn did his best to avoid the rocky spires that threatened to impale his body as they tumbled past but the rocks would catch on to the tips of his wings and shred the skin.

Thorn whined and growled but spread his wings to slow their free fall. There was a sudden jerk as they slowed and Valdis bit her tongue. The red dragon pumped his wings hard, suddenly rejuvenated and he climbed and climbed through the fog. Ignoring the increasing shrieks of the black winged creatures Thorn climbed and climbed along the rock mountain with increasing speed. Higher and higher they climbed till Valdis found it difficult breath properly. Thorn launched himself with a single burst of speed onto the side of a cliff and bellowed his blood thirst for all to hear. Murtagh was working behind Valdis wrapping a thick braided cord of leather around her waist. She looked up at Murtagh with terrified eyes.

"No-," she whispered fearfully.

"You have so little faith in me?" Murtagh said lightly, though he was breathless with his rushing.

He reached across and behind Valdis' back and she heard the slick twang of a blade being drawn from its scabbard. Held proudly in his hand was a hand-and-a-half sword that gleamed with lethal seduction even in the fog. Thorn snarled into the sudden silence and his head moved back and forth quickly as he scanned the mists for the lethrblaka. Valdis breathed heavily as fear and excitement ran through her veins. Murtagh sat proudly behind her, strapped to Thorn, with his sword brandished high in challenge. His face was dark but his eyes glittered with the invitation of battle.

The air hung with eerie stillness around them as they waited.

Valdis tore her eyes away from the gray for a moment to look around at Murtagh. The excitement on his face had faded a little but his eyes were still wary and watchful of their surroundings. There were quiet screeches in the distant, far off from them. Yet the mountain was an amphitheater, resounding the voices of the lethrblaka. There were streaks of black across the horizon just a dozen or so feet from them. So close were they in fact-

_These creatures reek of evil._

_Be careful Thorn. Without the Elduna-_

_I know, little dragon._

_We should have brought at least one with us. It would make this task ea-_

_Look!_

Murtagh did but Thorn had already launched himself away from the cliff and at the descending lethrblaka. The two creatures collided with a mighty roar and it was when Valdis first looked upon the lethrblaka. It looked like a long starved dog, without hair, or even an overgrown bat. Yet it seemed to have a thick hide and possessed strong looking hind legs that kicked brutally at Thorn's unprotected sides. The eyes were black and as large as a man's fist without any iris. The wings of the terrible creature were large and leathery, but what was most frightening was the seven foot long beak that snapped at Valdis inches from her face.

As the beast reared again Murtagh's sword descended in front Valdis and parried the creatures strike. It let out a terrible shriek at the blow and a thick blue-green ooze stained Murtagh's shining blade. The creature looped off of Thorn and disappeared into the mist with an ominous screech emitting from its beak. Thorn howled at the mist and dove downward toward the ground again.

_If they attack me once more I will kill them! _Thorn screamed mentally to Murtagh, who could not help but agree with him.

_They are hideous but cunning_,Murtagh agreed bitterly as he flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

_They will not let us ground!_

_Of course not, _Murtagh growled to himself. _We would have the advantage there._

One of the lethrblaka came tearing through the mist and struck out with his beak, but his blow glanced off of Thorn's thick scales and went underneath the saddle. Valdis yelped as the saddle shook and she was nearly thrown from her seat. The lethrblaka screeched as Thorn rolled over in the air, wrenching the creature's neck as he was tossed about. When they had righted Murtagh struck down hard against the wailing creature. Murtagh's attention had been blind to his right side but Valdis saw the descending lethrblaka and yelled for Thorn.

The dragon turned too late and was thrown from his flight into the mist. Thorn roared at the impact and kicked at the lethrblaka with his strong legs. Valdis was terrified at the sight and her stomach felt hollow as they fell through the air completely blind. There was a great crash as Thorn pushed himself into the side and into one of the mountains rock spires. There was a shriek of agony from the creature as his spine cracked and suddenly Valdis was falling through the air.

She was too terrified to scream out as she twisted and flipped through the freezing air. There was a great roar in her ears and her eyes watered and stung with the rush of air. She was in the mountains crater she realized as she fell through the sky's clouds and into an empty mass of mountain that to her stretched from horizon to horizon. Her momentary peace and awe at the sight was quickly ruined with terror as one of the lethrblaka came falling through the clouds after her, screeching with glee as it saw Valdis completely defenseless.

* * *

><p>Murtagh and Thorn watched in mutual horror as the lethrblaka's wing tore Valdis from the saddle and she plunged down through the clouds only to disappear moments later. Both lethrblaka tore after her completely ignoring the Rider and his dragon. After a moment of stunned horror Murtagh finally managed to speak.<p>

_Thorn!_

Yet the dragon was already diving through the clouds with his wings pinned to his sides. Murtagh leaned low over the saddle and ignored the giddy feeling of falling that bubbled in his chest.

_They only attacked us because of her?_

The thought seemed obscure at the time and before Thorn could reply they descended through the clouds and into the crater of Marna. There was fog trapped at the bottom of the great mountain and Murtagh could see the black tips of sharp rock protruding from the gray cloud. The next thing he saw made Thorn roar.

Valdis was tumbling down through the crater between forests of rocky spikes. Her body was tiny compared to the area around her but the lethrblaka had a harder time of it as he weaved and twisted through black rock. Valdis' seemed to have taken to the air and directed her flight with outstretched legs and arms. If Murtagh had never seen her before he would have thought that she was a Rider, and would have waited for a dragon to come swooping in to save her before she plunged to a gruesome death at the base of the crater. Thorn opened his mouth and let loose a great torrent of fire at the lethrblaka as they flew overhead and Murtagh saw Valdis look of surprise and relief at their arrival.

Thorn looped over and dived down straight to the descending couple of woman and beast.

_You should take care of your mate better,_ Thorn snapped as he let loose another torrent of fire at the lethrblaka. Murtagh wordlessly agreed as he raised his hand. The gedwey ignasia shimmered red and a bolt of red energy smote the lethrblaka who shrieked in fear. Thorn dove past the creature as it spread its wings to fly and headed toward Valdis.

* * *

><p>The base of the crater approached with stunning speed and gripped Valdis with fear and she prayed to herself that if she died that it would be swift and fatal. Her fears were now that she would be mangled and crippled at the base of the crater, in agonizing torment as she waited for death.<p>

Yet her fate was to live.

A red mass of angry dragon flew beneath her and spread his great ruby wings. She was somehow maneuvered safely to the saddle and landed sitting in front of Murtagh who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. Her stomach rolled at the sudden return of gravity as Thorn beat his wings furiously to gain altitude and pull out of his severe dive. Valdis closed her eyes as silent tears of relief streamed down her face.

* * *

><p>Murtagh felt guilt as Valdis trembled with shock in his arms. Her tears moistened the front of his jerkin and she gripped his arms with alarming strength. She was silent as she cried and Murtagh could not decide if he was grateful for this. He was surprised he cared at all. The strength of worry and concern that had enveloped him with when she fell was as binding as Galbatorix's vows. Murtagh had felt lost when he was gripped with fear that he had not felt since the dungeons of Uru' baen. Now that Valdis was securely in front of him he was relieved. Murtagh looked down at Valdis whose trembling was subsiding and saw that her tears came less frequently. He leaned down to her, mindful of being gentle, and whispered to her.<p>

"Look, Valdis…open your eyes."

* * *

><p>When he whispered to her she felt safe enough and opened her eyes. The panic she had felt was gone in an instant. The sight before her was breathtaking and beautiful. The sun was setting in the west yet the crater was bathed in pure golden light like she had never seen before. Everything was tinged in the radiant hues of the sunset and Thorn's iridescent scales shone like rubies in the suns light. The clouds above in the sky and the fog beneath them in the crater turned to molten gold and the world seemed to be a picture of the heavens that so many people, dwarf and human alike, prayed for. Valdis tilted her eyes cautiously up to Murtagh who looked out upon the scene with a look of great envy. He was captivated by the amount of light his eyes saw and the pleasant warmth of the sun that reigned down upon him and warmed him to his bones. Valdis wearily smiled and rested her head against Murtagh's shoulder. It was an unexpected sight after the panic that they had experienced only moments ago.<p>

_I thought this place had no beauty. It seemed too hideous for it_, Thorn confided as he glided through a gentle stream of air.

_Perhaps even evil things have splendor and beauty_, Murtagh suggested peacefully. He felt his heart beating slow and steady and Valdis was limp and near sleep in his arms. He cautiously reached out his mind and he felt her thoughts. They were steady and slow, full of awe at the golden scene before them, sleepy with the warmth of the setting sun, and happy to be in his arms.

It filled Murtagh with a different kind of warmth.

_Should we head back?_

_No, _Murtagh said gently as he gazed out at the golden world. _Let's linger for a while longer._

Thorn hummed in agreement and he tilted his wings to be taken up into the air by an updraft of wind. They lingered until the sun was just a sliver of gold beneath the horizon, and the air cooled with the night. The clouds had gone with the sun, out and over towards Gil'ead and the stars shone brilliantly against the blue velvet sky.

_We still need to find the lethrblaka, little dragon_, Thorn commented as they descended gently down the mountain side to their camp.

_There is always tomorrow, Thorn. _

_Tomorrow_, Thorn agreed. _So long as it is with you, my Rider._

Murtagh smiled as Thorn landed. He carefully gathered a sleeping Valdis in his arms and gracefully slipped out of the saddle.

_Tomorrow is a new day. It will be spent well._

_I don't think Valdis should fly again._

Murtagh chuckled with good humor as he laid Valdis down on the bearskin.

_She will probably be the first to jump to the saddle._

Thorn nodded before he heated the large slab of flat rock with a stream of his fire.

_She has liquid-fire in her belly. She is strong._

Murtagh tilted his head as he looked down at his mistress. The title didn't seem fitting enough for her. There was an angry scrape along her cheek and with a simple wave of Murtagh's hand over the wound it was gone and the flesh was perfect again. He was silent as he thought, and Thorn was patient as he waited.

_She might be the death of me._

Thorn looked up from his place.

_The death of an enslaved boy so that the free man may be born._

Murtagh met Thorn's vermillion eyes with confusion.

_You think she will change my true name?_

_At least one of us would be free._

* * *

><p>Valdis was roused from sleep with a hard shake. When she opened her Murtagh was crouching beside her dressed in his leather and vambraces. His face was dewy in exertion and his eyes were hard and urgent.<p>

"What is it?"

Murtagh opened his mouth to speak but a piercing wail outside of Thorn's wing made her heart leap in her chest. She was rigid in fear.

"The lethrblaka found us," Murtagh explained shortly and he rose to duck out of the red membrane and into the blinding grey light of the afternoon. Valdis followed after she hastily pulled on whatever clothes she could lay her hands on and appeared outside to the world looking a mess.

She was a delicious mess Murtagh observed as Valdis' head tilted to the sky to watch the dark flying masses above them. The only she wore that was hers were her boots. His pants were loose on her and did not stay on her hips well, and his tunic was falling off one of her pale olive soldiers. With his sight he could see the love bites. Her hair was a tumbling catastrophe yet her lips and cheeks were flushed and her skin glowed.

_Attempt to focus on the danger in the sky instead of the danger in your breeches._

_Good morning to you._

_It would have been better had I been given all day to sleep._

Murtagh's brow furrowed slightly at the comment.

_A great sleep is upon you?_

_The kings dark magic wearies my soul self. You also mate loudly._

Murtagh was acutely aware of Valdis moving through the waving grass to stand by his side. Her small bare breast brushed his arm as she positioned herself slightly behind him.

_Give me an hour and they will be serving my every whim_, Thorn growled and he crouched to the ground, preparing to spring skyward with talons and teeth flashing and fire blazing before him.

"What do they want?" Valdis whispered as she looked up to the sky. "If they wanted us dead they would have struck during our sleep."

Murtagh turned his head to look down at her. She didn't seem scared as he thought she might have been. Perhaps her fall through Marna had made her fearless. Their predicament certainly paled in comparison.

"They smell the scent of their children on you…on us…they're watching us."

Valdis' brow perked in surprise then furrowed.

"If they think to attack us they'll wish they never stuck their beaks where they didn't belong."

Murtagh cracked a genuine smile. His sparrow thought she was a dragon. He shook his head.

"If you had missing children, do you think you would kill the only link you had to finding them?"

Valdis shook her head.

"Perhaps they'll follow us? Follow us back to the camp?"

Murtagh shared a brief thought with Thorn.

_I would feel better with you on my back, little dragon._

"We didn't arrive with any other plan," Murtagh agreed. It was a simple enough operation. He only hoped that the lethrblaka were intelligent enough to realize that they weren't meaning to escape, only to show them the way. Yet still, at the prospect of dying...or being severely maimed… Murtagh leaned down to Valdis and kissed her with surprising tenderness. When she finally opened her eyes he was smiling.

"Just in case," he explained simply as he moved over to pack their camp.

* * *

><p>Valdis had fallen asleep long ago and the lethrblaka had continued to follow them across the plains and along the ancient forest of Du Weldenvarden. Perhaps the lethrblaka could smell their children and were spurred forward at the prospect, yet it still made Murtagh's skin crawl to have them flying so close, looming over head or beneath them. Screeching and squalling if Thorn moved too suddenly. Murtagh found himself dozing when Thorn flew through a warm draft of air and from there the wind guided them to their camp. Within the edges of the day, when night began to creep with its shadows across the land, Thorn landed in the clearing away from camp. Men in with banners came rushing to line themselves before the mighty Rider but balked and scampered back at the sight of the lethrblaka.<p>

_Wake up, little sparrow. _

Valdis wearily opened her eyes and felt gravity falling down on her heavily. She saw Thorn twisting his head around to look at her. A large group of well dressed men in armor and swords were smartly lined up in front of the dragon and Murtagh stood before them already speaking to Lord Rohm with direct and authoritative tones. Even in traveling clothes Murtagh held his own presence next to Rohm's shining armor. Valdis felt suddenly rather self conscious about how beaten she must have looked in her battered clothing. She managed to slip from the saddle without falling and waited beside Thorn.

"-keep the watch closer to the outside. Tell the men to not be foolish-"

"-by yourself, milord? I must protest that. These are dangerous creatures-"

"As am I," Murtagh countered with finality.

Valdis absentmindedly scratched a softer scale near Thorn's belly and he rumbled and blew a stream of fire at the soldiers who yelped and jumped back. Murtagh turned to his dragon.

"Thorn," he said with a light warning though his mouth was tugged with a smile. He turned back to Lord Rohm who gazed over Murtagh's shoulder to look at Valdis. With a terse nod and a bow he obeyed whatever order Murtagh had given him and clicked his fingers. A man with short straw colored hair and a wiry build came forward slowly to Valdis and without asking for permission scooped up Valdis in his arms and carried her away, through the line of soldiers. Too tired to really protest Valdis fell asleep with her eyes searching for Murtagh who had not even given her a glance.

* * *

><p>Valdis was awoken by the familiar scent of cardamom and lily, something she only smelled with Midri so near. When Valdis opened her eyes she saw the familiar dark skin and glowing emerald orbs of Midri's face and smiled.<p>

"Hello."

"You sleep for hours. I thought you'd sleep forever."

Valdis cautiously rose. She had been changed into her sleeping things and was grateful for the loose freedom that it gave her. Her hair had been washed and braided and it smelled perfumed. Valdis looked around in the tent. Midri guessed.

"Dragon prince not here. He has not come since you arrive."

Valdis did nothing to hide her disappointment and Midri laughed at her.

"He come to you soon I think," then her emerald eyes glittered for a moment. "You rode him like horse, yes? You command him?"

Valdis glared at Midri but nodded. Midri seemed satisfied and handed Valdis a cup of steaming tea.

"Drink it will help you sleep."

"I've already been-"

"Drink," Midri said more firmly and too tired to protest she drank the bitter liquid. After a moment it made her tongue feel numb and her body felt a hundred pounds heavier as if the sky were pressing down on her. She collapsed back onto the pillows and closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>Midri watched Valdis fall asleep and all friendliness disappeared from her face. Sure that no one was near, she drew from her dress two vials, one with powder and the other with a golden liquid. The third vial had already been opened and emptied into Valdis' tea. Midri had thrown the vial into the fire where it would be shattered with the heat. To be sure the drought worked, she slapped Valdis across the face, but the sleeping girl did not stir. Midri moved away from the fire and checked her side. Her blade was still there, as it had always been, sharpened and ready.<p>

Midri looked back to Valdis before she left the tent.

"Whore," she whispered as she disappeared. She had vengeance to take and the Rider's whore could die later.


	7. Inheritance Powder

When she woke she rose with a plan in mind.

She would see Murtagh.

She found him easily, she knew where he would be.

"What are the troubles today, milord? Duties? Petitions?"

"Aye," he grumbled as he shuffled parchment. "And much, much more."

"Anything of remote interest?"

"No," he replied honestly dipping his quill.

"Well then," and Valdis pushed away the scatters of parchment from him. Murtagh snorted, and Valdis smiled.

"Unfortunately this is my work for the day, milady. It needs to be done."

How he wished it would all disappear and leave him be. This headache would not leave him…

Valdis leaned down to whisper to his ear seductively.

"So it is important then."

Murtagh shook his head and swore silently.

_Hellfire._

Everything hurt. He took a good sip of wine and watched Valdis as she perused the papers in front of him.

"May I?"

Murtagh gestured grandly with his arm.

"Thank you," and she sat down firmly as she took a roll of parchment into her hand. Her eyes moved quickly across the scrolled words of the parchment.

"It's not as entertaining as I am, milady," Murtagh quipped, pouring her a generous glass of wine. Valdis threw back her head in laughter as she leaned against the chair.

"I doubt parchment would be comfortable between my legs, milord," she agreed.

Murtagh's eyes glittered.

"I happen to be rather at home between your thighs."

"You're in a saucy mood," she observed, eyeing him carefully with the ghost of her last smile still on her face. Murtagh nodded and plunked his goblet onto the table with a clang, he winced at the sound. Valdis saw the top layering of the table crunch beneath the cups base. He didn't even realize his own strength.

"You're drunk," she lightly accused as she pulled away the goblet. There was a dented ring where it had been sitting.

"Barely," Murtagh said grudgingly.

Valdis examined him closely.

"I've never seen you drunk before," she noted with a far away effect.

Murtagh scoffed and slumped slightly in his seat. He squeezed his eyes shut, the damn headache made light unbearable.

"You barely know me, milady. I'm the man that fucks you in the evening and apologizes by way of gift in the morning."

Valdis smiled slightly and reached out feel his head which was surprisingly hot, as were his cheeks. Her brow furrowed. Murtagh noticed her troubled expression and looked up to her. His eyes became sharp despite their pain.

"What?"

"Hold out your hands."

Murtagh's head jerked in surprise.

"Your hands!" Valdis insisted suddenly. "Show me…hold them out."

He did cautiously and after a moment they began to quiver uncontrollably, he clenched his hands into fists and relaxed them but his fingers still trembled.

"Something is wrong," Valdis whispered hoarsely and Murtagh's gaze bore into her. He was silent.

"You've never been drunk before," Valdis insisted as she quickly moved about the tent, looking around. "Have you eaten?"

"No," Murtagh whispered. He gazed at his hands still with a pained expression. His vision blurred and the light of the lamps hurt his eyes so much it was hard to keep them open for any amount of time.

"The _wine_!" she said suddenly and she picked up the jug with cautious fingers. Valdis held it in her hands tentatively and her face was screwed up in intense thought. After a long moment she went to the tent flap and spoke merrily to the soldiers outside. When she returned a moment later the jug was gone.

"What did you do?"

Valdis ignored him and came to his side with a look of urgency and distant thought.

"Come...lean on me," she took him by the arm and around the waist and lifted him with a grunt from his seat. His vision swam and his legs and feet ached sharply as though he had walked barefoot across sharp rocks. He hissed at the sudden onslaught of pain and buckled slightly. Valdis struggled to hold him up and swore beneath her breath.

"_What…did… you… do?_"

"I gave the jug to the soldiers outside. If it's poisoned they'll be dead by morning…through here," she directed him to the back of the tent and pushed through the heavy material, they were at the edges of the dark forest of Du Weldenvarden. The tree's casted long shadows across the ground by the light of the moon. Valdis' words swam with speed through his mind yet his own body moved slow and with great pain.

"What are you doing?" said Murtagh, an odd note in his voice. There was a feeling of pins pricking at his skin and the joints in his fingers and arms felt stiff as though they had been left in the cold.

"Hiding you," she said hoarsely as she set him on the slanted ground. "If it's poison someone's watching you…waiting."

"Guards," Murtagh groaned and he clutched his stomach as he doubled over. Valdis was at his side before he could fall and held him up as he grunted in pain. If she was worried she was hiding it well. It made him feel at ease. If she had been crying he would have assumed that he was near death.

"Is there pain in your stomach?"

Murtagh nodded fervently and there was a sheen of sweat on his face as Valdis helped him rise. She could even see in the moonlight that he looked pale and drawn. He should have eaten; it may have slowed the poison by chance even if only for a few minutes. That was time that they could have used.

"If it is the guards, then the one who is not dead in the morning-"

"-is the traitor," said Murtagh shortly his dark gaze focused intensely on the path before them.

"Yes," she huffed as she lugged him along. "That's the theory. I have to keep you hidden. If you are seen ill-"

"-it would not bode well for me."

He would lose control of the army. Prompt a coup from a lesser lord. He may have used fear and harsh judgment to frighten the lords and soldiers, but they would likewise lash out in fear if he was weak too. Valdis touched him on the chest to stop him before he walked through a tent gap. There was a low mumble of talking after a moment and then a few bursts of laughter. Even if his body was failing him Murtagh's mind was still strong and sharp…for the moment. He dug into his mind and expanded it to the consciousness of the five soldiers.

"_…red haired, beautiful…finest lass I've ever had…"_

_"…you and the whole company!"_

_"…took three men to get me down…"_

_"…and ten to get you back up!"_

_"...just had our first child! A son! _Hellfire_. I need to get to the farm soon; planting will need to get done…"_

Murtagh flinched at the warmth in the young man's mind. He had just celebrated his twenty third name day and already had more sense than the men in his company who were twice his age. His wife- just eighteen- had birthed their first child. She had sent a letter to tell the news. It was clear that the man was utterly devoted to his little fair-haired wife with the soft blue eyes.

It was sickening.

_I think that's the poison._

_Thorn!_

_Trust the little sparrow. She sings wisdom._

_I can't believe I let this happen, _Murtagh lamented through his sharp stomach pangs.

_Three tasters and dozens of magicians is hardly letting it happen, little dragon._

_I'm dying!_

And panic consumed him, absolute and whole fright. All this power, the skill and the honor. The loyalty he commanded to be wasted by a vial of plant extracts. Damn magicians, he would blast them all to hell when he got better.

_You're being rather dramatic._

_If I die you die as well._

_You will not die. Not this day. I will not allow it of you._

Murtagh felt a brief amount of fierce pride for the dragon past the sharp pains of his stomach and he gave a shout when they stabbed at him again. Valdis did her best to hush him and when he started to convulse again she pressed his face to her chest and he bit her shoulder harshly. They moved slowly due to his debilitating state and Valdis became worried when he started to respond less and less to her.

_Thorn-_

_You will not die. _

_Thorn-_

_Yes?_

_I don't-I'm-_

_We are all frightened by death, _Thorn replied warm and stern. He sent his own strength to Murtagh and he found himself able to bear the pain better. He could stand on his legs and though the pain felt deep inside his bones he would have whooped with relief at with the sight of his tent. They went in through the back and he collapsed on the bearskin bed. He turned over immediately and wretched. The movement wracked his stomach with intense pain and he groaned.

_Thorn, _Murtagh called weakly through their connection. The ruby red dragon sent an image of him flying across the encampment to him and he kept to the darkness. Murtagh could not see and there was numbness in his fingers that panicked him. Valdis came rushing over and took his hands in hers, she had a needle in her hand. Murtagh tried to recoil when she made to jab his fingers but he didn't feel it. A drop of blood oozed from his finger. Valdis was watching him warily and when Murtagh looked up to her with furious eyes she knew he had not felt it.

"With magic could you-?"

Murtagh tried to shake his head but he knew it probably looked like a convulsion.

"I would have to know what poisoned me..._hellfire_," he leaned over the bed to wretch again and Valdis pulled him to the bed to lay him on his back when he was done.

"I've never seen this before, milord. I don't know what to do with this kind of poison."

Murtagh groaned and arched while his hands were in fists at his stomach. Valdis watched helplessly at the side of the bed and reached over to take his hands. She was furiously fighting tears and had to take shaky breathes to calm herself. Murtagh cried out and gasped in air his hand was crushing hers but Valdis touched his head and smoothed away his hair, whispering to him that he had to be silent.

A large red head came peeking in through the tent flap and the dragon whined at the sight of his Rider. Valdis stood and walked to the ruby colored beast and touched her hand to his snout.

"I could only help him if I had the antidote…if I knew what it was."

_Find the oathbreakers responsible. Then I will find you._

Valdis flinched at the sudden abrasive intrusion of Thorn's mind in her own and swayed on the spot. His mind was like venom. It was dark and she sensed chaos beneath his words.

"Why?"

Thorn turned his head to gaze at her with an eye so stern and dark it looked as though it was dried blood. He growled at her.

_Because I want to hear the sound of shredding skin as I tear it from muscle, and muscle from bone. I want the music of agony to ring in my ears. I want blood. I want rivers of it._

Valdis' jaw clenched at his words, as violent as it sounded it appealed to a primal part of her.

_Look at him. Look at him and say to me truthfully that the sight of his agony doesn't make your blood boil with rage. Tell me that you do not want to slit throats and burn lives._

Valdis looked at Murtagh for the first time, and truly _saw_ what he was like. The state of agony was pathetic and sad. It made her blood run cold and then it surged inside of her heart with fresh vengeance and determination. Someone as great as he, she thought, should not have a death as unworthy as this. Confusion and worry began to cloud her mind again as Murtagh arched in a fresh wave of pain.

"Can anything be done?" she asked turning to Thorn desperately. "I could try poppy juice…" Valdis trailed completely unsure if she should debilitate a body that needed to fight for life, even if it was in pain.

_I can speak with him. Take him to my mind. We will be as one._

Valdis sighed in relief but Thorn's next words terrified her just as quickly.

_It will not last, little sparrow. He will not live if it continues to be like this. You must work a miracle._

Valdis looked over to Murtagh with a stern face and her hands were balled into determined fists at her side.

"Then we will have a miracle within this very hour. I swear it."

* * *

><p>Valdis donned her simple healing clothes with haste and was grateful that she had not thrown them away, despite their stains of blood and dirt. She hurried through the camps and past soldiers huddled around fires, laughing and drinking merrily. There had been another skirmish with the Varden and the Empire had been victorious.<p>

_If only they knew! _Valdis thought as she shoved passed a few men who eyed her as she came forward. They called out to her what her price was but she ignored them, following the labyrinth of paths through the tents to one in particular. When she came to it she saw shadows cast along the inside in the shape of two figures twisting around each other suggestively. Valdis moaned in aggravation.

_The one time I need Midri's help and she's bedding Lord Rohm. That would be the first I've ever heard of it!_

Valdis turned sharply on her heel and made for the healing tents which were on the complete opposite side of the encampment, twenty thousand soldiers to go through made her shiver with dread. Perhaps the Twins could aid her-

What she saw next made her shake her head in confusion.

Lord Rohm stood- fully clothed Valdis noted- with a few men who also had medals of Honor were pinned to their armor. A red cap, so bright it looked as though it was died in blood, swept across his shoulders dramatically. If Rohm was here a dozen tents away from his own, who was with Midri?

Valdis desperately needed Midri's assistance, perhaps her heritage of the desert yielded some knowledge of medicine. Midri had told her once that the Hadarac produced some of the rarest plants to be found in all of the land. Valdis did her best to look pretty without worry lines marring her face. She strode over to Rohm urgently and it was clear from the red lips and rosy complexions that the men around the fire had been sampling a barrel of wine. A barrel which one of the thinner soldiers sat on.

"Milord," Valdis curtsied quickly. "His Majesty the Prince requests your assistance. Will you aid him?"

Rohm raised himself from his bow and examined her, whatever he saw seemed to startle him considerably but he spoke with urgency enough that Valdis knew he was aware of the calamity.

"I am more than willing to serve the will of my lord."

"Be' thisuh wench isuh willin' ta serve yours!"

A lard of a man roared greatly. He laughed so heartily that the contents of his cup spilled over the sides. Valdis could have his hide later if it suited her. She examined Lord Rohm for a moment and she reached forward to his side where an ivory hilt stuck out from his dark armor. It had silver inlays in swirling patterns and was thick and sharp along one side. She held it in her hand and looked at to Rohm whose handsome face and dark features reminded her of Murtagh. Before she could speak again the bulbous soldier reached for her and pinched her behind. Valdis turned and dashed the fat man across the face with the hilt of the dagger and kicked the barrel he was sitting on out from underneath him. She threw the heel of her boot into the man's throat and held him down as he struggled, squealing like the pig he looked to be.

"I will have your hand for such impudence and your manhood will be fed to the Creatures of the Forest. Reach for me again and I will gut you from navel to nose."

The man looked up at her, fury in his beady little eyes but Valdis dug her heel into his throat and he let his hands fall from her leg in surrender. Valdis stood straight and motioned for Lord Rohm to follow her.

"Milady," Lord Rohm laughed as they walked away. "I have never seen suc-"

Valdis whirled on him and pushed him against a stack of crates, much to his amazement.

"Your Prince is dying in agony and I must perform a miracle to save his life and there is a man in your tent filling your place next to your mistress."

Lord Rohm's face twisted in sudden anger but Valdis held him against the crates with all her strength.

"Murtagh doesn't have time for your rage and I need Midri to help me. Can you wait for vengeance?"

Rohm nodded tersely and followed Valdis to his tent with a drawn sword that hissed lethally when it was pulled from its scabbard. When they turned away from a row of tents Valdis could see the writhing shadows of a man and a woman.

Lord Rohm went in first and there was a squeal of surprise and a shout. Valdis came in when she heard tell tale grunts of a physical scuffle. Midri was leaning against a tent pole with a blanket wrapped around her and she looked flushed and angry. A naked man was pinned to the ground by Lord Rohm who dug his vambrace's into the man's exposed back. The man seemed vaguely familiar to Valdis as she stepped around him. His auburn hair swept across his face and she had to kneel down to see the man's features. She reached out to move the hair away and froze with shock.

"Stahl?"

His green eyes darted away and Rohm dragged him to his feet. Midri was silent and her dark eyes darted between them all with the quickness of someone who was rapidly thinking.

"Whore," Rohm spat glaring at Midri. "I will deal with you later but Lady Valdis has want of you. For whatever reason that might be."

Valdis was surprised at the acid in his voice; she had never heard it before even when the captains and other lords fought at the council meetings. He had always remained calm. His volatile reaction surprised her.

"Midri," Valdis began. "Something is wrong with the Prince. He is terribly ill and you mentioned once that there were rare herbs in the Hadarac that cure-"

"No," she said fiercely.

Valdis looked to Rohm who held onto Stahl fiercely.

"No?"

"Your Prince is far gone, slut. He will be healed by no remedy of mine."

Valdis flinched at the sting and her brow furrowed. Midri's accent was gone, the low drawl of her voice disappeared. Valdis felt disdain. Not Midri, anyone but Midri…

"Midri…help me…you can save him. He'll give you what you want…anything...gold...land…"

"He will give me what I want when he dies. Vengeance," she growled.

"Don't, my love," Stahl said struggling in Rohm's grip. "It was I that did it. I poisoned him."

Valdis turned to Stahl as Rohm swore loudly.

"What do you mean?"

Stahl had pity in his eyes as he looked on Valdis but he bore himself straight with dignity despite his nakedness and spoke firmly.

"He sent my brother to his death because of his affection for you. He sent him to slaughter because of his overtures to you."

"He never made his affection known to me," Valdis protested. "Hyatt never said anything."

"How could he? How could he ask a woman to marry a soldier when she had a Prince and Rider to warm her bed and give her every comfort?"

Valdis looked between the sordid couple before her mind wrapped around what had been said.

"What vengeance could you want?" she asked as she looked to Midri. "What has Murtagh done to you?"

Midri's pretty face was marred be sheer maddening glee as she spoke with excited tones.

"I was branded a slave when your precious Prince captured my people in the desert. He accused us all of being Varden rebels and had the men slaughtered. I lost my family that day and everything burned. Your mighty lord walked past me without a look of mercy on his face while his soldiers' raped me. He is nothing but darkness. I will have my vengeance this night and my family's spirits will be free."

Valdis felt her face burn in anger and her grip tightened on Lord Rohm's dagger. The cool ivory hilt became hot in her hand and she lashed out at Midri, slicing a cut along her collar bone. Midri flinched and Stahl struggled against Lord Rohm fruitlessly. Rohm was taller than most men and was wider than a door. He was made of muscle it seemed from the way he barely flinched when Stahl struggled.

"You must have an antidote. In case you swallowed the poison. Where is it?"

Midri remained indignantly silent but her dark eyes sparkled in traitorous glee.

Valdis slapped Midri with her empty hand and raked her nails across her cheek.

"Where is it! Tell me!"

Midri cupped her face in her hand and looked up to Valdis with a bloody smile.

"You'll burn with him, whore."

Valdis turned to Stahl and there were tears in her eyes. Rohm hit Stahl across the head sharply and let him slump to the floor, naked and unconscious.

"Give me a while with her," Rohm snarled darkly looking to Midri. "She'll sing in moments."

"He doesn't have that much time," Valdis said desperately. "He needed that medicine hours ago!"

"Is there nothing that you can do?" Rohm said intently his dark gaze becoming worried. "Can he not use his magic to-?"

"No. If _he_ can't than I doubt the Twins could."

Rohm nodded gruffly and glared at Midri with murderous eyes.

"Go back to him. I will come to you when I have the antidote."

Valdis touched Rohm on the breastplate and reached up on the very tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. When she pulled away his face was moist with her tears.

"Thank you."

Rohm seemed surprised by the gesture but nodded and steered her toward the egress of the tent.

"Don't come in no matter what you hear."

Valdis sharply turned on her heel and did just that.

* * *

><p>Valdis returned to Murtagh's tent with great haste and ignored the protests of drunken soldiers as she ran into them. When she rushed through the tent flap Thorn did not even bother to look up at her, his vermillion gaze was fixated entirely on Murtagh's writhing form. Valdis went to Murtagh and took his hand. The emblem of the riders felt strange against her skin as it always did and she gripped his hand tightly.<p>

"Go hunt Thorn…It will be awhile yet I think before anything can be done."

Thorn hesitated at the thought and spoke to her angrily.

_If anything happens-_

"You have my permission to tear me to pieces and roast my flesh for your enjoyment."

Thorn growled in agreement and his head retracted from the tent flap. When she was sure she was alone Valdis let a few tears of fear fall onto her cheeks. But she wasn't strong enough to hold back the tirade of silent sobbing that had been threatening to encase her for the past hour. As she wept she grew tired and finally she fell asleep…

…When she woke she was instantly alert and she twisted around to throw a water jug at Midri who was advancing behind her. The jug hot Midri upside the head and a broken piece of the pottery scratched the skin of her brow.

"He will die," she whispered manically. "If I have to kill you to do it."

"What happened is in the past," Valdis murmured trying to distract Midri from her moving hand. "Taking a life will not clean the blood that has already been spilt."

"You whore," Midri whispered. "Do you believe he would give a second thought for your life if it was in danger? Let him die and the world will be spared of his evil."

_Thorn! _Midri cried in her head desperately. _Help!_

"I can't let you do that. He can't even defend himself!"

"Why would he need to," Midri laughed. "When he has his bitch to do it for him?"

Valdis' temper flared and she felt a shred of victory when her right hand felt the cool hilt of Lord Rohm's blade.

"I will hurt you if it's what must be done…do not test that…you will regret it," Valdis promised.

Midri scoffed and shook her head.

"You can't hurt me. My spirit died with my family."

"You will join them if you step any closer," Valdis threatened.

Midri's eyes flickered for a moment with hesitation at the threat and Valdis hoped that she had put enough venom in her words to make her hesitate for a little while longer.

"You don't see as I do," she whispered frantically. "The things that are inside of him! The voices that scream to be released…the spirits… he has no right to them! His death will sent them free…my family will be free of him!"

Valdis turned to look at Murtagh and his shaking form for a moment but her decision had been made long ago. When Valdis turned her head back Midri saw steel and ice in the young woman's eyes.

"When you hang I will not be there to cut your corpse from the rope. You will rot in the dust and lay there forever."

Valdis lunged at Midri and they wrestled on the floor. Midri reached for Valdis' knife-wielding wrist and wrenched it toward the fire. Excruciating pain shot through her arm and Valdis screamed as she brought up her knee hard into Midri's stomach. Valdis rolled on top of the struggling woman and threw her weight down fiercely. There was a sickening slick sound as the knife entered Midri's chest and there was a crack of bone as Valdis pushed down once, twice, and then again. Midri's hands reached up to claw at Valdis' face. Her bloody fingers began to wring her neck but Valdis reached out to a broken piece of pottery with jagged edges, when it was in her grip she slashed at Midri's face. It distracted her long enough so Valdis could reach with her unburnt left hand to the ivory and silver hilt of Lord Rohm's dagger.

Gripping it tightly with bloody fingers, she twisted the blade sharply and Midri grunted. Her beautiful face was contorted in a grimace and the reflection of the fire faded in her eyes until her gaze became blank. Blood pooled from the wound in strange lulls and lurches. A stream of blood hissed when it ran into the fire.

Valdis sank to her haunches over Midri's corpse.

Her face and body were covered with blood and she was trembling with exhaustion and fear. After struggling with herself a moment she gathered what shaky strength she had and began to look through the dead woman's clothes. She paused when she heard the gentle clink of glass.

Yanking through the cloth of the dress she found a tiny sew patch of cloth in Midri's skirt, she felt two objects that clinked when she touched them and she ripped away the hidden pocket. Within the tiny pouch were two vials of glass, each waxed over the top. One had a gray sort of salt inside of it and the stopper was waxed over twice and was contained in a thicker glass. The other was filled with a honey-like substance that clung to the empty sides of the vial. The cork smelled sweet.

_The perfect poison,_ Valdis thought, _would be odorless, tasteless. Then the sweeter vial-_

She stumbled over Midri's corpse to Murtagh and touched his face; she softly called to him blinking past her burning tears. He twitched in his painful coma as she cradled his head in her unhurt arm. Using her teeth she cracked the wax seal and tipped the contents into Murtagh's mouth. She moved his head back to force a swallow and stayed awake as long as she was able. She fell asleep beside him when the fire burned low and did she not wake for many hours….

* * *

><p>Murtagh woke with a deep gasp.<p>

Cold hands were pressed against his brow and chest.

"Valdis?"

"No," a voice replied. "Your king."


	8. The King

(SORRY for such a late chapter...I have a longer one coming and five more planned out! It's just a matter of writing them! School started so I'm swamped but I promise that there are a lot of gory, lusty, good times ahead!)

"Who is this?"

King Galbatorix nudged Valdis with his boot and she rolled over. He hummed as he saw her pretty face.

"My mistress, your majesty."

"Oh?" Galbatorix feigned pleasant surprise. "Taking after your father I see…making her a loyal servant…have you taught her any magic?"

"_I am not Morzan_," Murtagh spat through his pain. He winced as a sharp stab of agony went through his arm. The poison still gripped him even as the King's remedy worked inside of him.

"Oh no, you're far greater," the King agreed, yet his voice still seemed distant and his gaze lingered over Valdis. "Does she please you?"

"I wouldn't keep her otherwise," growled the Red Rider. He fought back another wave of pain and Thorn sent him a strand of his own strength, it would be wasted on him anyways, being pinned under Shruiken out in the clearing. Thorn struggled despite this and Shruiken nipped harshly at Thorn's tail.

"She killed for you," Galbatorix said lightly astonished as he looked over to a shadowy skinned woman whose green eyes were dark with death. There were dried trails of blood where it had pooled from her mouth and wound. A dagger, smeared with blood, was stuck from her chest. And the pretty ivory hilt and silver inlays were pink with a trace of blood. Murtagh glanced down at Valdis' hands. They were stained crimson and her right hand was severely burned. It would be a gruesome scar that she would carry for the rest of her life if it was not healed by magic.

"I _never_ _commanded_ her to _kill_," the Red Rider protested thickly though his pain.

Valdis was not Selena. Murtagh was not Morzan. He was greater than his father and Murtagh was certain that Valdis would not leave any child of hers to nurse maids and servants. She had more kindness than that.

"It appears, my dear son, there was no need for commanding."

"I…am not…your _son_."

Galbatorix's eyes glittered in the dying firelight.

"You have feelings for her."

"She warms my bed-"

"And your heart? How poetic of you, my dear boy."

Murtagh yelled in frustration as his stomach cramped painfully. He rolled to his side on the bearskin and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass.

"It will soon subside, my young one," Galbatorix said in a silky voice. "Rest and be born anew. We will watch as the traitors die. I have something rather…_special_…planned for them."

Murtagh resisted the urge to wretch. Any plan of Galbatorix's meant someone would be put into agony for his amusement. He had been the subject of such plans before and would do anything to prevent being there again.

"I brought your Eldunarya to you. I sense you have missed them," the King gestured grandly to a chest of black iron from which a faint light glowed through the lid and key hole. Murtagh- with trepidation- reached with his mind to one of them and delved into its power. He strangled the protesting voices from within and tucked them into a dark place in his thoughts while he drank greedily at the pure power from within it. His pain lessened immensely, and he felt lighter and stronger. The tension in his body relaxed and he felt his spine ease and his shoulders slump. He rested against the bearskin bed and ignored the King's smiling gaze.

"You are becoming a master of the Eldunarya, my Rider. Perhaps even as great as me some day if you want it. You will be the Father of Dragons, the Builder of the Riders, A Bringer of a New Age. I can see it, my dear boy. It is so _near_."

The King laughed at himself and his voice was liquid and silvery.

"I weary you with my plans. How rude of me. Rest. I shall send for you when I have your surprise ready."

The King made for the exit of the tent in a flourish of his cloak but stopped and turned back to look at Valdis, who still lay unconscious on the floor. He tilted his head to the side slightly and a small smile played on his face.

"Bring her too and have her cleaned and pretty. I want to see her as a jewel on your belt, not as a disgrace to our names."

{INSERT LINE}

When Murtagh awoke again someone was pouring the slightest trickle of cold water over him. It was cold and gentle and eased the fever that possessed him. His vision blurred when he opened his eyes and Murtagh stretched his mind to grab power from the Eldunarya. His tension eased and the aching in his body lessened, he felt lighter and his thoughts became clearer.

"Murtagh?"

The frailty of the voice was what caught his attention. The amount of timidity and fear made his stomach drop with guilt. He smelled the cloying odor of vinegar and rosewater. Murtagh opened his eyes and Valdis looked down at him. Whatever prettiness she was graced with had faded drastically since the last time he saw her. Her hair was unkempt and falling from its plait, her face was red and inflamed as though she had been weeping and the wet stains on the collar of her gown confirmed his suspicions. Her right hand was gingerly held to her chest and carefully wrapped in gauze that was soaked with, what Murtagh guessed, was rosewater. Even through the bandage the severe burn glared an angry red.

"Valdis?" he whispered. She weakly smiled and fresh tears poured unbidden from her eyes down onto her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away and rose on shaky legs. She looked worse than Murtagh felt and he forgot his own pain for a moment when he saw how weary she looked. She awkwardly balanced a basin of water underneath her left arm and set it on the edge of the bed, water slopped over one of the sides onto Murtagh hand.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she pushed away a few loose strands of hair from her eyes.

"Give me your hand, Valdis," Murtagh said tenderly. His brow was furrowed slightly with disbelief. Did she believe it would be asking too much of him? To heal a wound that garish? Did she believe he would watch her suffer?

Valdis carefully reached out and winced when he began to unwind the bandage. She whimpered when he had to pull the dressing away from a portion of scorched flesh that had already begun to scab. He shushed her kindly when she began to cry and let his hand hover over her arm. He was glad that the traitorous whore was dead already. He would have sentenced her to a worse fate for what she had done to Valdis.

"_Waíse heill_," he murmured and the flesh knitted together seamlessly. First it looked clear and damp, whiter than her natural skin, like a scar. Then it darkened and in the firelight he could see the smallest of hairs and small freckles. He still held her hand when she reached out to cautiously touch her skin. Valdis was amazed that her skin did not even feel sensitive. It was as it was before, unmarred by the flames of fire.

"Thank you," she murmured tiredly and she leaned over to hesitantly kiss him on the lips.

"You had to but ask."

"How do you feel?"

Murtagh thought for a moment.

"Alive," he admitted. It seemed to be the only appropriate response even without pain.

"Can I get you anything? Food…water…perhaps wine?"

"No…no," he shook his head. Rest called to him again and the warmth of the fire made sleep's grip stronger against him. A thought occurred to him.

"The king-"

"He's here," Valdis said grimly. "He drills the men at all hours. Any time the horns will call them be it morning or midnight."

"Yes," Murtagh said hurriedly, he expected as much yet. "But has he visited?"

Valdis looked at him with doe like eyes and shook her head gently. Murtagh looked around him. The air of the tent was hot and incensed yet he could feel the slightest of winter winds seeping through the material and brushing over his body, which now he realized was naked. When he noticed his lack of clothing he turned a questioning eye to Valdis who stared at him with such innocent eyes he almost sorry for giving her such a glare.

"I didn't know how much longer you would rest. I couldn't move you to the tub and risk you drowning in your sleep."

"You wouldn't let me drown, Valdis," Murtagh assured tiredly as he steadily stood and stretched next to the bed. He felt a rush of blood and his sight blurred for a moment as his body awakened itself from its rest. When Murtagh swayed slightly Valdis' arms shot out to wrap around his waist. She looked panicked when he gazed down at her and when she realized he was well she released him with a flush of embarrassment and busied herself with removing the unused and steaming washbasin from the bedside.

"You don't look well. What's happened?" When she didn't answer his mind quickly turned to the worse.

"Midri is dead and Stahl has been tortured for five days personally by the hand of the king."

At the thought of such a fate, fear gripped Murtagh around his heart and squeezed till he felt he had no breath inside of him. Valdis saw his tension and nodded.

"You can hear him from this side of the camp on nights when it's quiet. I can't listen to another night of it."

Murtagh tersely nodded and his thoughts were distant when Valdis handed him clothes. Five days of excruciating agony by the King Galbatorix himself.

_No one could even dream of such an honor_, Thorn growled suddenly.

_Thorn!_

Murtagh felt relief at the sudden familiar mental presence of his life-companion.

_Are you well?_

_Shruiken has been blessed with a bout of mercy._

Murtagh's mood darkened.

_If I could-_

_You would tear him apart one scale at a time. Yes, I know. Thank you._

_Is there anything-?_

_No_, Thorn interjected too quickly, _I am well enough. _Murtagh felt Thorn's emotions bubble from anger to extreme pity and Murtagh felt the same when he heard the sounds with Thorn's ears.

_Hellfire!_

_Yes, it's awful to listen to. Torture seems to clear the king's mind. He will be glad to know you're awake…_

_I cannot be wholly sure that is a good thing for us._

_When he is happy he doesn't torture you._

_Yes. That is true. _Murtagh winced as the screams of his guard filled his mind. _Hellfire, I can't help but feel grateful to not be on the receiving end of that punishment._

_Wait till you see what he's done to the corpse of the desert whore._

Murtagh's mind tugged as it remembered something.

_Valdis said that Midri was dead. It looked as though-_

_Valdis killed Midri._

Murtagh was silent and pensive as he glanced over his shoulder to Valdis who rubbed her cheeks with the back of her hand. Whatever wrong she had done had truly drained the youth from her face. Yet even then, she was beautifully tragic and fragile.

It made Murtagh boil with fury.

_What happened when I was asleep? It looked like a blood bath._

Murtagh felt Thorn's hesitancy.

_Midri escaped Lord Rohm's tent by throwing some sort of desert powder in his face…a recipe I assume she learned from her tribe…the Twins are fusing over it…they've never seen anything like it before._

Murtagh glowered.

_I can only imagine what fun they would have._

_Midri came here and planned to kill you herself...she knew about the Eldunarya, little dragon. She said that she saw spirits inside of you and by killing you she would release them._

Murtagh shook his head with the stream of information. He'd been told by the king in passing of people possessing such gifts. Talent that the king wanted to cultivate for himself for his Black Hand's.

_Valdis was very brave,_ Thorn commended carefully. Murtagh waited for Thorn to continue.

_The little dragoness said that she would kill Midri if she tried to harm you. _

_Given the state of the rug I would say Midri wishes she would have taken Valdis with all seriousness._

_Yyour little dragoness overtook Midri. She plunged the blade into her chest and twisted while the desert whore tired to strangle her. Her efforts were obviously useless._

_This will haunt her. I know this. She was not born in blood as we were._

_We are all born in blood, little dragon. Some of us are just not born with a taste for it._

Murtagh nodded his head minutely. He could hear Valdis behind him silently sniffing. It made him feel awkward and angry at once. He rather despised the wailing of women, yet he still desired to make her stop for her sake. If there was anything that could be done.

_There is._

_What?_

_Don't let her watch._

_Watch what?_

_The burning. _


	9. A Feast of Fire

They dragged Stahl through the streets by chains along the longest stretch of camp. From all sides the soldier was flanked by his own comrades who spat at him and kicked him while a multitude of abuses were shouted as he was dragged past. The evidence of his weeklong torture was whipped, branded, and torn from his skin. Stahl had been starved for the duration of his torture and only given what would keep him clinging to life by a breaking thread. Yet whatever had been done to him would have crippled him for the rest of his life had he not been sentenced to death.

His ribs poked painfully through his abused flesh and sores and brand marks oozed with infection and neglected care. He moaned as he was pulled along and scampered like a beaten dog to keep up with the horse of a lord who Valdis did not recognize. Yet the look of pure enjoyment was clear on the lord's face. And it made Valdis' stomach recoil in horror to gaze on such a sickly sight. Stahl was not to endure this for only a short while, and his fate was long and suffering. The stretch of camp of which he was heaved through was a mile long. And an agonizing mile it was when the mob of pike men and archers, cavalrymen and captains alike called for the death of a friend while they threw rocks and dirt and hurled rotting food at a man who looked less than a starved dog from an alley.

Valdis looked to Murtagh who regarded the scene with dark eyes and she was surprised that when she reached for his hand beneath the furs that kept them warm he gripped it tightly and squeezed it in reassurance. Such a rare gesture was not lost on Valdis who, for a moment, felt the burden of the scene lifted slightly. _After all_, she reminded herself, _Murtagh has suffered much worse and so have many men._

Murtagh turned his head a fraction to look at Valdis who watched with a pained expression as Stahl was hauled up a large wooden dais by the steel slave collar around his throat. Murtagh had not suffered worse and he was sure that no man ever had. But he remained silent and took a deep long breath, not realizing that he had held it in for so long.

The dais that had been built for the special occasion was stacked beneath with dry bunches of brush, and several dozen bundles had been fenced around it for good measure. To Valdis horror Midri's rotting corpse had already chained tied to the large tree that had been stripped of its branches for the use of execution. The tree had not been pulled down and it seemed to be the king's wish that the roots burn as well as Stahl and Midri.

"They didn't close her eyes," Valdis whispered frantically. "No one closed her eyes."

Murtagh looked down to Valdis as her head shook gently. He was thankful that the desert whore was dead yet even Murtagh would have simply ordered her to be buried in an unmarked grave, a general insult in every culture to be so forgotten and disrespected. Murtagh had no taste for such barbaric theatrics like the ones the king used. And at the sight of Valdis' tears, and the pitiful pleas of Stahl as he gazed on Midri's corpse he turned to the King who sat majestically garbed on a throne next to him and spoke harshly.

"This is unnecessary. Stop this. It serves no purpose other than to satisfy your sickness."

King Galbatorix's brow perked and an amused smile grew on his face.

"This is not sickness, my son."

"_I am not-"_

A small twitch of the king's fingers and Murtagh's throat felt as though he had swallowed a brick. He wanted to lurch but the kings magic kept him as he wanted Murtagh to be. Silent and obedient.

"This is the way of our empire. This man tried to take your life, my son. Yet you would grant him clemency?" Galbatorix tsked gently and patted Murtagh's hand. "He threatened the life of Thorn when he poisoned you, and if I am not mistaken your pretty mistress…Valdis? Yes? Was even poured a goblet of that seithr blood. She would have died by your own hand."

Murtagh's outrage was clear from his violent and crimson thoughts.

"Yes, my son," the king confirmed sadly. "And her death would have been completely by accident too. Such a shame it would have been. She is quite charming for a fisherman's daughter I will admit." The King's dark mad eyes sparkled with secret amusement. "She even _killed_ for you, Murtagh. Such loyalty you inspire in others, my son!" And he laughed and again patted Murtagh's hand before he stood, and with great regality strode forward with a sweep of his sable cloak and raised his arms. Rings with jewels the size of hazelnuts adorned some of the king's fingers and glittered in the dim daylight. The soldiers in the front of royal platform fell to their knees and like the swells of waves so did the countless other soldiers who followed the suit of kneeling men in front of them.

"My loyal men of the Empire! This day we have come hither to see the end of a man who has placed himself in the hands of demons and usurpers. He would end the life of the Prince who so loves you and of the woman who has healed your wounds, and cared for the illness' of your brothers in arms-"

Valdis' head whipped to look at Murtagh so quickly that her vision blurred for a moment and Murtagh's face was just as startled as hers. Why was the King mention her _now_? She was not of noble blood…

"-Today you will see the justice of the Empire and the rebels will know that our might is great!"

There was a single raw cheer from the crowd in agreement.

"The rebels will smell the roasting flesh of one of their own!"

Another singular cheer, this time louder.

"They will see the flames of our pyre and they will cower in their holes and caves. They will know fear at our hands and they will feel the foundations of this earth tremble beneath our feet as we march to end their reign of terror!"

Three cheers echoed across the plain and it made Valdis ears rattle and pop painfully. The king waved his hands in the air to calm his subjects and he nodded graciously at them all, at their devotion and support.

_He has them bewitched_, Valdis thought, _he's enchanted them all!_

And Valdis could understand the reason why the men looked at Galbatorix with such blind devotion. The King's voice wove magic it seemed and the very air looked to still in anticipation when the King drew a breath. His words flowed so smoothly and calmly, yet they possessed such power and might that any man, woman, or child who listened to him would know that the king whom they loved was great and powerful. Such was his effect, that there were rumors that the wives of officers and captains had sent letters to their husbands, asking if they might visit them to see the King.

It was madness and Valdis shook her head and gritted her teeth. If the King saw her so distressed…she would be punished without a doubt. So she squeezed Murtagh's hand tighter and raised her head with a long deep breath.

_You are not a whining weeping girl. You're the mistress of the strongest man in Alagaseia, a Rider, a Prince. Why weep from sadness when you could weep for joy? To have such a man desire you and care for you, leaving you never wanting of anything. Women would kill for such a position. And indeed you have. Earn your place, fisherman's daughter, and mark history with your name. You will not be forgotten. _

Murtagh shared a thought of surprise and pride with Thorn when they had both heard Valdis speech to herself. Murtagh knew Valdis was not aware of their presences in her mind. It was a sign of how much she trusted Murtagh, and by way of that connection, Thorn as well. It pleased Murtagh that she would be so willing and loyal and yet it angered him too. She was privy to the probing of the King or of the Twins and that thought made Murtagh suppress a shiver and even more so with the sight that had been prepared with grandeur before him. The King had moved to the very edge of the dais and was throwing gold coins as thick as Valdis thumb to the soldiers when she leaned over to Murtagh and whispered in his ear. The roar of applause would drown out her voice she was sure.

"Why burn him?" she asked. "The death of a traitor, if he is a common man, is to be hung, drawn, and quartered."

Murtagh's face was filled with unease and silent strength when he looked over to her and his brow furrowed as he spoke.

"Yes, but you would have to be a man to die that way wouldn't you? There is very little left of Stahl to prove otherwise."

Murtagh watched her to gauge her reaction and horror painted Valdis' face for a moment as she looked at him, as if hoping he would take his words back, and then to the slumped form of Stahl dozens of yards away at the pyre.

"But that's-"

"It's a mark of shame, Valdis, to die a woman's death."

"There is no shame in being a woman," she insisted fiercely.

"Not if all women were you. Yet Stahl is a traitor also, he tried to kill me and in doing so he nearly killed you. If I had died Thorn's life would have been taken as well."

Valdis eyes flashed with dark anger and her pretty face was marred with rage.

"You approve of this then?" and she jerked her head to the scene where chants of death and gore were shouted at Stahl. Some even threw rocks at him still though if they were enemies or friends she did not know. It was not uncommon for friends of criminals to stone the criminal to death in hopes of sparing them hours of agony. Valdis hoped, with twisted reluctance, that the stones were thrown by friends.

Murtagh did not appear enraged at her question, he was always rather calm even when angry, but he simply tilted his head to the side slightly and spoke softly with a deeper question in his voice.

"Do you think I am that sort of man?"

Valdis did not hesitate to shake her head.

"I cannot watch this, Murtagh. Please."

He looked to her and indeed he pitied her greatly. He remembered being that innocent once.

But it was a very long time ago.

"You can and will watch this, milady. I command it."

Valdis turned her head away from him and tried to pull her hand away from Murtagh's under the furs but his grip was strong on her fingers,

_Look without seeing_, came Murtagh's apologetic voice into her mind. _It is all I can advise._

Valdis closed her eyes for a moment to gather strength and she fought viciously past her tears.

_It is a horrid way to die, _Valdis replied mournfully in her head, hoping that Murtagh would hear her. After a silent moment he responded and there were notes of gentleness in his voice.

_So is seithr blood._

Seithr blood. The poison that had nearly killed him and Valdis. She could not blame him or argue further but looking without seeing was more difficult in this instance than she could have imagined. She looked and she saw everything.

The smell was probably worse than the screaming.

That much Valdis couldn't decide with the cheering and agonizing cries filling her ears. She couldn't hide her face and she was grateful that the King Galbatorix couldn't see her. Valdis' chair was placed beside, and a little ways behind Murtagh's, and she knew his composure would be a perfect mask of detached indifference. Thorn's scaly body was curled around the dais with his head resting at Valdis' feet. He watched the spectacle with the reflection of the fire dancing in his bloody eyes, and he occasionally growled but was silenced when Shruiken, whose sheer mass made Valdis tremble, hovered over the young dragon. His scales did not shine as Thorn's did but they appeared like unpolished onyx. Perhaps that was what happened when a dragon aged, Valdis thought desperate to think of anything else besides what was before her.

_That could be dangerous, little dragon._

_Would you care to listen to this any longer? _Murtagh growled at Thorn. The screams of dying, suffering man filled their ears and Thorn growled.

_End it._

_I intend to._

Murtagh reached out with his mind and he was bombarded with the presence of thousands of men elated and crazed with the death before them. It was easy to find Stahl because his was the simplest mind in the sense that he had but one thing on his mind.

Pain.

Then it was-

Fire.

Pain.

Gods help-

Pain-

Midri-

Pain-

Gods end it-

Murtagh did with a single word of power, such power too existed within that word that the inferno grew higher and wider and consumed the whole spike with a rage and intensity that Murtagh felt from his place on the dais. The fire ate the magic and it formed a life of its own as it swirled around the pyre like a fiery snake. The flames roared and hissed with destructive life and Valdis relaxed next to Murtagh.

Stahl was dead.

And not by the King's hand, but by Murtagh's. Despite the fact that it was a death, and he had killed, it was the kindest kill that Murtagh had ever delivered and he felt better for it. Valdis looked over at him and in that moment she looked relieved and the exhaustion of Stahl's torture and Midri's death seemed to lift the darkness from her face and she offered him a weak smile.

As tired as the expression from her was, it affirmed to Murtagh that he had done what had to be done. What was right.

_Something we have not done in some time, little dragon. And you are the better for it._

* * *

><p>When Valdis was returned to Murtagh's tent by one of the Prince's new knights she thanked him with a few gold coins and quietly entered the tent. It had been redecorated for a sort of celebration to go along with the event of Stahl's death. The carpet that Midri has died on had been burned by Valdis' order and everything had been cleaned and fluffed and dusted. Thought Valdis thought it quite useless. They were camped in dirt and in the outdoors, but she supposed that rich nobles liked to think themselves at home.<p>

Valdis stood lost for a moment in the new tent and looked at the new surroundings. Some things had been kept for the sake of familiarity, like the square low lying table that had been made of Surdanese wood and polished dark and shiny. The bed was the same, but with new bear furs for the oncoming winter campaign. The pillows now were also sewn with covers of gray and brown furs and the thick tent coverings were hoisted now with thick tapestries depicting romantic views of dragons.

Everything seemed much the same only darker now with the blues and greens Valdis had ordered from the seamstress'. Valdis had liked the simple yet rich patterns and she new Murtagh would not mind disposing of the Empires colors of blood red and deathly black. The tent was more peaceful and another pit of fire had been dug in the farther corner of the tent to keep away the winter chill. It had seemed to settle early this year, there had been no fall in the land, and it had caused trouble for farmers. Yet Valdis could not bring herself to care for the troubles of people so far away. They would survive as they always had and they had not witnessed what she had. She slowly pulled away her cloak and let it rest on a new empty chest of mahogany wood.

It had been a very good day when she had bought it, mainly because Murtagh had asked to accompany her wherever she went to her astonishment.

"I want to see how you occupy yourself."

When she had explained it was to a market in Gil'ead some miles away-they had been closer then weeks ago-he had nodded and remained silent during their journey. Valdis smiled as she touched the chest, she could smell the polish and remembered the distress of the merchant she had bought it from. His other work was indeed beautiful, laid with gold and silver, rare jewels from the mountains and pretty stones from Alagaseia's rivers, yet nothing Valdis saw truly stood out to her and Murtagh had watched…amused as the merchant became nervous. She had spotted the simple chest and had loved its sturdiness. It had been carved with divots and was heavy and sturdy with black iron hinges.

The look of shock on the merchant's face had made her laugh.

"But, milady," he had sputtered past his black beard. "It is so plain!"

Murtagh had eased the merchant with a few words and the chest was hers and Murtagh had smiled widely at her that day in the market in amusement.

"You distress them when you do not appraise their work," he had whispered to her but she had shaken her head at him.

"I don't like rich things. They're too heavy and they've never suited me."

Murtagh had kissed her tenderly when they were seated in the litter and the curtains had been drawn.

"You're right, you're far too beautiful for rich things."

The spell of the memory was broken the moment she heard the faintest beating of drums and singing. The entire company of men, the whole five thousand of them had been given free beer and wine. It ran freely through the men and they feasted in delight. Valdis tossed away her dress with disgust, a gift from the king. Silk of fiery orange with no sleeves and embroidery that made her eyes hurt when she looked on it because there was so much on the bodice. It was very much unlike her with its ropes of jewels and heavy gems. It was atrocious.

"Murtagh would have known what to give me," she sighed as she sank deep into the furs of the bed. She rested for she knew not how long, but when she opened her eyes she saw a tapestry above the bed and it made her laugh. It was magnificently weaved with thread of silver and gold, on backdrops of navy and fiery velvet. It was the story of the Sun and the Moon and their many children, the stars.

It was so detailed a tapestry that Valdis spent an endless happy time staring up at it. If anything could be said about the Rider, it was that he was observant and had impeccable taste. Despite what the some men of the camp whispered, Murtagh could be very considerate and even kind on occasion. It was simply a matter of when it was allowed, in private usually or without witness. Which suited Valdis well, she did not like the political life, she saw how hard it made Murtagh, and she had no desire to expose her life or her affection for Murtagh to the entire army.

The warmth of the furs and the fire lulled Valdis back into sleep and she did not stir when Murtagh came back in the late hours of the night and rested beside her in her sleep beneath the furs. He glanced at Valdis face and saw a faint smile at her lips, he remembered what she might have seen and looked above him to the tapestry he had commissioned of her story. One that she had told him weeks and weeks ago. Months even. The story of the Sun and the Moon, and their many children the Stars.

The story had stuck with him so much that it bothered him and he hated the story because of it until he had her tell it to him again the next night. He had pondered over it for so long that he could have told the story to Valdis in the same exact detail as she had told it to him. Murtagh would not say however that the gift was more like an apology for Valdis having to witness what she had.

He thought hopefully that her body curling around his in sleep meant she had accepted that apology.

(INSERT LINE)

"Death, is also paradise is it not?" Valdis whispered as she traced the lines of Murtagh's throat. He adjusted her weight more comfortably on his arm and sighed making a deep noise with his throat.

"Death is death. It's to be avoided," he answered simply, his voice still rough with sleep and for once, his cheeks dark with stubble. Valdis let her fingernails scratch across his jaw as she spoke.

"There are some who look forward to death," she whispered quietly against his neck. "They say that life is the ordeal to truly fear, and that death is what we should know."

"Who says such things?" Murtagh growled. "They should be hanged. Heretics and mad men."

Valdis nudged Murtagh with her elbow.

"Scholars and philosophers, milord. Scholars and philosophers."

Murtagh's brow perked.

"Are they not one and the same?"

"Brilliant minds always challenge the boundaries of thinking. Yet a heretical idea in one decade is the accepted fact in the next."

Murtagh's brow furrowed as he tasted over her words.

_Wisdom spills from her silver tongue. She could charm birds from their nests._

"If that heretical mouth can speak the idea loud enough it is the quake that cracks the foundations of an empire," Murtagh countered. He felt Valdis tense slightly at his comment and she answered with deliberate care. Something that told Murtagh she had thought over her words cautiously.

"Your empire is well and sound, your majesty. The rebels will soon be gone and you will have a peaceful reign over your land."

Murtagh rolled over onto Valdis and she let out a pressed sigh when his full weight fell against her. She expected a firm rebuttal but instead his dark eyes held no flashing anger or burning rage. They were still and deep, the gaze of a thoughtful man.

"I did not mean _the_ Empire…I was speaking in the most general of terms, milady," and as he spoke his thumb brushed her chin frequently as if he were explaining something difficult to grasp to a simple naïve child. It was comforting and Valdis allowed and careful and bashful smile.

"Sometimes I am afraid to speak what I think to you," she admitted without meeting his gaze.

"Why?" he asked plainly not letting his fingers move from her chin.

"Because I do not want to meet the fate of Midri and Stahl…or Heslant the Monk."

"Heslant the Monk?" Murtagh raised himself till he was sitting on his haunches. He regarded Valdis now with suspicious eyes and the deepness that had existed in them was now shallow and sharp with wariness. "You oft speak of things that even the most educated of people in this realm do not know. How is it you know such things? Who speaks of this?"

Valdis carefully raised herself to her elbows.

"I did not mean to speak of things-"

"But you have," he retorted darkly. "If you know of Heslant the Monk then you know of the _Domia abr Wyrda_."

"It was a book."

"One you have read?" Murtagh prompted.

Valdis shook her head.

"No, I saw it once in a market…it was decorated like no book I had ever read before. The merchant was trying to sell it at some absurd price. It looked valuable but before I could make an offer against the other seller a man with grey hair and fine clothes came. He berated the merchant for selling the book at such a beggars price because the information itself he said was priceless. He mentioned the name for a moment and threw his entire purse of gold at the merchant. He ran off when soldiers came…he caused quiet a scene for himself."

Murtagh was still as stone as he heard her words. When he spoke his face was carved and stiff.

"Where was this?"

"Teirm," Valdis answered quickly. "It was nearly three years ago."

Murtagh turned his gaze away, something Valdis knew he did when he spoke to Thorn. His gaze flickered to her for a moment and then after another he relaxed.

"This is why I am afraid to speak," Valdis murmured as she rose from bed and reached for her robe and cloak. "Because it could be my last words."

As she stooped to pull on wool socks and her boots Murtagh rose. She ignored him till he squatted down to her level.

"I never want you to hold your tongue in my company but the king has executed men far better than you and for far less."

When Valdis finally looked to him her jaw was hard and she ripped her arm away from his grip, even when it had been gentle.

"I am not a man…and the men at court are not my betters. The willingness that they show to follow a mad man proves that."

Murtagh recoiled as if he had been stung as the meaning of her words sank in. His anger swelled violently and he felt his body racked with a tremor.

"I have no choice. I am a slave. This," he raised his hand till she could see the gedwey ignasia shine in the firelight, "this is my brand…I will not die from hard labor or from the beatings of a cruel master, though the gods know I suffer those too…I will die when this whole world burns into oblivion. This enslavement is for forever. It is not something that can be undone by mortal means."

Valdis hard angry expression softened and her shoulders slumped. She opened her mouth to speak but Murtagh reached for her and gripped the tops of her arms tightly. He shook her slightly as he spoke with his teeth gritted and his eyes wild.

"Do not think for a moment that you can pity me. I will not endure the shame of pity."

Murtagh was put off by the softness of her voice as if she were not afraid of beating that he could have easily given her. Other lords would with their mistress, yet the thought had never crossed his mind when Valdis spoke of something that displeased him.

"I would not think that there would be a moment when you would allow to be pitied. I truly do not think to, milord, you must believe that. How can I pity the strongest survivor? The warrior? The prince and the Rider? A master swordsman and politician? I would be mad to. You are not to be pitied, Murtagh," she said firmly and she took his face in her hands. "You are meant to be admired and followed. It is why the men love you, because you give them reason to. Your life, your story, your skill and triumph. It is why they follow you."

"And not the King?"

"You are their king."

Murtagh's hands travelled down to her hip bones where they rested lightly and he spoke slowly.

"That is treason, milady," he whispered but he did not stop her from speaking because there was a part of him that reveled in her words and desired greatly to hear more of them.

"It is the truth. Your men follow you because there is sweat on your brow and blood on your sword. There is wisdom with your words and a battle cry in your throat when it is needed. You have _earned _their respect, milord, and that is why they follow you and not a mad king who has remained hidden from the sight of his people for the past hundred years."

They were both silent and with hesitancy Valdis reached up on her tip toes till her lips brushed Murtagh's. He watched her with a slightly bewildered expression, as though she had never kissed him before, or touched him intimately, and there was a nervous feeling in both of their stomachs. Their touches were awkward and uncertain…like a virgin bride and groom, but they relaxed against each other after a moment and their lips rested against each other without moving. They simply enjoyed the feeling of their mouths pressed together, and the way they both breathed the other's air. Murtagh lifted Valdis without breaking their kiss and gently walked them to the bed. They did not make love but they touched one another and memorized one another's bodies. It was not something Murtagh could have ever imagined himself doing with a woman, memorizing something so changeable and warm that brought him pleasure and comfort. With Murtagh gently caressing her side and soft belly Valdis fell asleep huddled against his side with her arm resting on his and her hand on his strong shoulder.

Murtagh dozed and he fought to keep his eyes open but he knew he would not succeed for long. They past weeks had been trying for the both of them and after the burning of Stahl and Midri sleep had eluded the both of them for weeks. They had not spoken to each other but when they did it was clipped and harsh and short. This night had broken that spell that they had both hoped would not become permanent.

_You were miserable without her_, Thorn commented, but not unkindly, _Sleep, little dragon. I am watching over you._

_Valdis too?_

It was a weakly sent question from Murtagh's sleepy mind and it was something Thorn knew Murtagh would not remember once he fell asleep.

_The little dragoness too_, Thorn replied.

He felt his Rider's satisfaction and hummed him to sleep.


	10. The Wandering Tribes

"Are you sure this is wise?" she asked cautiously. When Murtagh turned to look at her his eyes were calculating. "You doubt my decision?"

Valdis looked to Ser Beris and Ser Geraint who had paused a few paces away and watched them with the same calculating eyes that Murtagh gave her. Valdis lowered her voice and touched the cool leather of his elegant jerkin with her fingertips. She knew Murtagh would not miss this gesture; he never missed any detail, and worked to appear unthreatening and meek, despite the fact it grinded her pride the wrong way."I'm a woman, milord. I have no head for politics."

Murtagh laughed and kissed her fully for a moment. When he pulled away he was looking at wryly at her with his dark eyes gleaming, he lead her further through the camp with a slight tug on her arm."The role of a coy girl does not suit you, Valdis."

"And the role of a manipulative mistress does?"

Murtagh nodded but not in agreement. "I'm overseeing only a few matters. Trivial and holding very little weight. If it were a war council I would keep you out of it."

"Why?"

He waited to reply as a few soldiers appeared and upon seeing them, kneeled in respect and muttered a few reverent phrases as they passed. When he did speak it was almost sheepish and embarrassed.

"It wouldn't be wise to concern you with the foul natures of warring men."

"I heal men who are hurt by the foul natures of warring men. Old men sit and discuss war while they send the young ones off to fight it for them. It is a dirty business for dirty men."

"I didn't think you thought so little of me," Murtagh commented dryly as they continued on slowly. Valdis could faintly hear the clatter of armor from Ser Beris and Ser Geraint following them.

"From what you've made me understand there is very little choice for you."

Murtagh glanced at her as they moved through the camp."You don't sound like you pity me."

Valdis gave Murtagh a hard look.

"As I told you before, you don't need pity and you wouldn't accept it."

Murtagh did not reply but gazed forward along the main rows of tents with a faint crease in his handsome brow. He seemed to be thinking deeply, weighing his reply, and Valdis took the moment to look over her shoulder. Ser Beris caught her eye and offered a slight smile."In some of the matters to which I must attend it will not always be pleasant. They may look to you for mercy and even ask you to intervene for them."

"You ask me to be silent," Valdis stated grimly, not liking how that tasted.

"No," Murtagh disagreed. "The complete opposite. If you remain silent it may be viewed as you being ignorant."

"Why do you want me to be a part of this? I'm a healer."

"You're my mistress."

"I'm your _whore_, Murtagh. There's nothing noble about that. I'm not a politician or of noble blood and I certainly wield no power over the men of the council like I wield power in your bed."

Murtagh's mouth twitched at the corners at her last words but he gripped her arm firmly and spoke firmly too."You saved my life. Something I value more than _everything_ else in this world. I can't repay you properly with jewels and silks, or horses or homes there would never be enough of those things to give to show you just how grateful I am. This power that I can give you is a different _kind _of power."

"_It's dangerous, Murtagh_."

"Do you truly believe I would let any harm come to you?"

* * *

><p>"This is your third offense toward the crown and the Empire and the punishment-as you have been warned before- is for your hand to be severed from your wrist for your crimes."<p>

The blubbering man took in a sharp breath but had the courage to halt his crying. Valdis did her best to ignore this proceeding by looking over one of the many petitions that lay scattered about the small table that sat between her and Murtagh who delivered the sentence with all the coolness of a statue. Ser Geraint retrieved from behind him in the corner, a block already bloody with an earlier trial. It had only been a few fingers then for touching a whore without permission, but she had been pleased when she was given the ruby and diamond rings on the separated fingers as a gracious apology payment.

"Whores keep the men happy even when their work doesn't," Murtagh growled to no one in particular when the fingerless man and the happy whore left.

Valdis gritted her teeth when the man's wrist was bound and pulled over the bloody block tightly by Ser Beris while Ser Geraint muttered an apology to his fellow comrade and unsheathed his sword. Valdis gave a quick look to Murtagh who watched unflinching. Valdis had known, as everyone had in the camp, what the punishments were for stealing, raping and fighting. It was very different to hear these punishments and _see_ them become carried out. But this man did not keep his dignity for long.

"P-please...milord…please… h-have mercy on me…"

Murtagh remained silent and stoic. He was not moved with the man's pleas. He was being rather lenient in truth by giving warnings and he could not let the rules fall lax because of one man. It was this one man's example that would set the thousands of others in their places. The crying man then-to Valdis' horror- turned to look at her with his grey eyes watering.

"My lady…my lady…please…the men…they speak of you…of your kindness…you've- you've healed them…please."

Murtagh did move this instance and he only moved to look at her. She felt Ser Beris' and Ser Geraint's gazes as well. Valdis felt frozen and her fingers clenched and released the rests of the chair that had been set out for her. The velvet of her dress felt much too hot and the simple jewels too heavy for her. She took a breath and spoke, and with every word regretted it."If you were afraid of the punishment perhaps you ought not to have committed the crime."

The man looked horrified and angry and began to swear at her and struggled against the bonds of the rope on his arm. Another guard had to be called by Ser Geraint to hold the man down and in a single swoop the man's hand was severed and blood oozed on the floor while the man screamed. It made Valdis jump in her seat but before she could run Murtagh gripped her hand. He did it with such strength that she nearly fell over. The man was dragged from the tent by the same guard that had held him down and a trail of blood followed.

"He will be properly cared for," Murtagh said simply as Valdis cautiously sat back in her seat, trembling slightly. She reached for the goblet of wine and sipped from it with shaky breathing. She fought tears and did not meet Murtagh's gaze which bore into her with fire.

"Bring in the next petitioner, Ser Beris."

Ser Geraint was sitting in the corner cleaning his bloody sword with a rag. His eyes watched the young mistress of the Red Rider with interested eyes. She was quite pretty, even when she was silently weeping. The Red Rider's gaze caught his and with a tilt of his head Ser Geraint averted his eyes, he had nearly forgotten of the Rider's dark ways. When he had been a boy, Ser Geraint had sat captivated by his village's fire when the old wise woman with rotted teeth had spun her tales of Riders and heroes of the old world. Some had said that she was as old as the Riders themselves, she had seen the fall of the old ways through the eyes of a young girl and had never forgotten the horrors of those days.

Geraint the boy had little care for the Riders, but rather for the heroes who accomplished the same fantastic feats with only steel and honor. To him, there was more nobility in that than by way of magic and dragon. Geraint the man still shared those same beliefs, but he kept it to himself. His beliefs were not the accepted in this world.

The rest of the petitioners came and went quickly. They were simple troubles, favors, and other things. Things that Valdis did not mind or have enough care to pay attention to. There was blood on her hands, even if she had not swung the sword the blood still decorated her skin. She could feel it, thought she knew it was guilt. Such things she had witnessed, such things she had seen.

Valdis knew that Murtagh slept easily at night when the troubles were not his own. It was only the mans hand, he would think, not his life. Life, Valdis knew, was precious to Murtagh and he would not think that those handless men would have difficult lives because they would somehow manage to be grateful that they were even alive. Valdis knew it was not so, but she practiced Murtagh's advice.

_Look without seeing._

Valdis soon applied the same idea to all her other senses.

_Hear without listening. Touch without feeling. Eat without tasting. Breath without smelling._

She was numb and distant when Murtagh kissed her hand and bade her goodnight. He had a council meeting to delegate with his other captains and commanders and would not join her for dinner. He encouraged her to find her own amusement for the night before he departed swiftly. Valdis waved away Ser Beris and Ser Geraint when they made motions to rise and address her respectfully as she passed them. With a glance to one another the knights waited a moment before they followed her back to her tent. Her safety was their one mission, their only assignment. And it had been given to them especially by the Prince Murtagh. They sat outside the tent on stools and shared a hot cup of spiced wine to fight the chilling night.

Ser Geraint looked to Ser Beris and jerked his head toward the tent.

"She's quiet."

Ser Beris sipped the wine and looked up at the stars without truly seeing them.

"Don't you remember when you saw your first blood?"

"Aye," he murmured quietly.

"Then you know it's no easy sight to see," he lowered his voice, "especially for a lady."

"She isn't a l-"

"You must be cold, sers," came a quiet voice from the tent opening and there Valdis stood in a thick robe holding carefully in hand a heating pan filled with ruby red coals. She knelt down and placed it between them near their boots.

"We can't trouble you, my lady. If we spoke to loudly-"

She smiled slightly and the skin below her eyes was dark. She looked weary.

"It is not trouble, ser. I could not even hear you. It's too cold a night to be out the least I could do is offer you a little heat to fortify yourselves. Thank you for watching over me, I feel safer with men of honor ensuring my well being." She reached behind her, to a place they could not see, and produced a few platters of chicken and bread baked with cheese. "I have no appetite…it will only go to waste…here…yes take it...goodnight, sers." And she disappeared into the tent again. After a moment a few candles were extinguished and they could only see the faint glow of a fire pit from within.

Ser Beris looked over to Ser Geraint and gestured to the platters and the heating pan.

"Did you have a mind to say that she wasn't a lady?" he ripped into a piece of bread and chewed it eagerly.

Ser Geraint did not quite hear all of Ser Beris words. He was staring at the still shadows of the tent and was wondering which one was hers.

* * *

><p>Valdis watched with curious eyes as hundreds of carts rolled passed them, all containing men who were thin and wore mute expressions on their faces. If the men were not starved they were diseased, if they were not diseased they were beaten and bloody with bruises as evidence of their mistreatment. As Valdis leaned over in her saddle she caught Murtagh's gaze.<p>

"Is this by your orders?" Murtagh stiffly shook his head.

"By the King's" was all he said and his dark calculating eyes watched with anger but he kicked his horse forward and Valdis followed at a trot. Valdis looked behind her to see a long billowing cloud of acrid black smoke rising through the sky. It was far off in the distance, miles behind where they had made camp but the cloud of smoke made it seem as if they had hardly traveled at all when they had gone at least twenty or so leagues.

"Ser Beris," Valdis called quietly and the man turned to look at her.

"Milady?"

"Where are all of these men coming from?" and she gestured with her head to the thinning line of half starved, half naked humans trudging barefoot in the mud.

"They are prisoners, milady. Prisoners of war, Varden rebels and spies. I wouldn't doubt there were a few common criminals mixed in with the bunch."

"Why must they walk in such a state? Where are they going?"

Ser Beris looked confused and surprised and his graying brows rose up.

"Lady the King has ordered that all prisoners be bur-"

"_Ser Beris_!" Valdis jumped at the harsh notes in Murtagh's voice and she watched warily as he rode over to them. He wore his shining armor of steel and his hand-and-a-half sword clicked slightly at his side. Anger coursed through his face and Valdis' stomach dropped. She dipped her head and lowered her gaze.

"Milord."

"Majesty."

Murtagh ignored Valdis completely and nudged her horse back slightly with his own grey war horse till he was side by side with Ser Beris whose gaze remained lowered and steady.

"You are to remain so long as you remain silent," he whispered in dangerous tones and he looked up to Valdis for a moment who sat confused in her saddle. Ser Beris nodded.

"Yes, your majesty."

Murtagh straightened and looked at Valdis with the cool dispassionate face that always made her suspicious and nervous.

"They are the Empire's prisoners of war, my lady. And they go to serve His Majesty the king as slaves."

Ser Beris exchanged a furtive glance with his companion, Ser Geraint. Valdis felt the eyes of the entire traveling party on her and she meekly smiled and nodded but she could tell from Murtagh's cold gaze that simply accepting the men's fate would not satisfy him.

"Then they go to their proper places beneath better men of the Empire, your majesty. Gods forgive them as surely as the King graciously will."

Ser Geraint smirked. He was impressed. The prince's mistress had a silver-tongue and a mind as quick as a hummingbird. He had a feeling that if she was ever at court she would do well for herself there. Snakes could not fly as she could. The Prince nodded after her little speech and murmured words of goodwill before he galloped to the front of the traveling line and called out to move forward again, along the long muddy rode.

Valdis drooped in the saddle and was thankful for the thick riding dress and silk chemise that Murtagh had gifted her with weeks before. The winter brought storms that made the day grey, and filled the sky with chilling breezes and made moist air to breathe. It overall pleased Valdis, this kind of weather, but she disliked when Murtagh began to resemble it.

* * *

><p>"Not me, I hope?"<p>

"No." Valdis leaned back against her chair and watched Murtagh with catlike eyes.

"Only a fool of a woman would hit you and believe that you were too much of a gentleman to strike her back. If I ever gave you a blow, gods help me, it would have to be a mortal one."

He laughed and sipped his wine before he began to pour her more.

"Let me entertain you longer to allay that blow while I can."

"Cool me now only to heat me later," she said softly to him as she reached for the goblet. Their fingers brushed and Murtagh took her hand to kiss it. She mischievously dug her nails into his fingers for holding her hand in his mouth too long. But she was smiling, and her dark eyes sparkled; the boredom and irritation of the day which had frayed her temper and made her snap at anyone who spoke to her, vanished without a trace. There were other men now who tried to wear their best silks, and velvets, that polished their armor and swords to try and catch her attention. A place in her bed would be profitable if she drew attention to them, granted them favors. But she stepped away and over them always. It was only Murtagh who could truly claim her attention, he was the one who fell into step with her when they were alone.

Murtagh's eyes glinted as he fingered the hilt of his sword. Valdis hid her sadness well, she had a knack for dissembling that impressed him and made him nervous. He wondered what could harm her spirit but before he could finish the thought a tirade of events came to his mind. His near death, _her _near death, killing Midri, seeing Stahl burned alive, the prisoners that morning being dragged in heavy chains through the winter cold and mud. The king too was intimidating, and he knew that Valdis disliked having to watch her tongue so much. Murtagh himself preferred it loose. It was blunt honesty but she did not truly flatter his pride and courage one moment and sharpen a dagger behind his back the next as the others at court would have or even the soldiers.

_The more I cling to her the more she becomes trapped in this world of war and blood. She would have never witnessed any of these things if I had not bedded her._

Thorn snorted fire and it scared the wildlife around him in the forest which was miles away from where Murtagh was.

_She can leave as she wishes, you made that clear to her. She stays because the soldiers depend on the supplies that her bedding you gives them. Yet she could have let you die from the seithr blood. She has feelings for you as well, as any mate would._

_You like her_, Murtagh accused,_ you're biased._

_She saved my Rider and she has given you measures of peace and happiness however small or brief. You could not find that on your own, little dragon. _

Murtagh agreed but did not mention it in his thoughts, it was only a feeling. Just as he had been feeling anger this morning when Ser Beris had nearly told Valdis the fate of those prisoners.

_I cannot decide whether it was the right choice or not…to keep the fate of those men from her._

_Did you want her to see how many of them begged on their hands and knees for any other fate besides the one that had been chosen for them? Stahl's end was enough for her to be tortured with, she did not need to see five hundred others burned as well._

Murtagh gritted his teeth and blanched at the numbers. One life or a few Murtagh would willingly take over his own. Yet five hundred? And for no cause other than the pleasure of a madman?

_You would tell Eragon that no life was worth more than you own…regardless of the thousands that would be killed. You cannot accuse one man of one thing and hide because the same fault exists in you._

Murtagh growled.

_I am not Galbatorix! I am not Morzan either!_

_You are right, you are better than them. Yet how long until you become them?_

"-seem distracted?"

Murtagh looked up and Valdis stared at him with curiosity.

"Is everything alright? You look," she shifted in her seat. "You seem angry."

Murtagh berated himself for a moment for divulging entirely into his connection Thorn with while Valdis was so near. He liked to keep his conversations with Thorn private and he did not want Valdis to begin asking him to divulge in what they spoke of.

"I'm well, as you are I trust?"

Valdis eyes narrowed slightly at his deflection, but she played along.

"Your majesty keeps me very well."

The rest of supper passed in silence and Valdis was the first to leave but not before she swept around the table and leaned over to kiss his head. Murtagh could smell her sweet scent and without realizing closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Valdis pretended not to notice and pulled away too soon for Murtagh to steal a kiss from her. He watched her as she swept away, and being in a sudden moody, she looked over her shoulder and winked at him before disappearing with a giggle.

Murtagh smiled despite himself.

_Have you not told her yet?_

Murtagh's smile vanished.

_I planned on telling her in the morning. What does it matter when she knows? She will come whether she wills it or not._

_Little dragon your pride grows faster than I do. You are taking her away from her duty._

_I am her duty._

Thorn roared in frustration.

_You are hopeless and selfish, Murtagh scion of Morzan._

_You are a fat overgrown chicken._

_At least my head isn't as big as yours…its plumped with your pride._

_Listen to me you fuc-_

"Your Majesty!"

Murtagh turned to see Ser Beris looking at him through the tent opening.

"What?" _We'll finish this later, Thorn._

"Urgent news from the capital, milord. A messenger of sorts is here to see you," and the older man shifted uncomfortably. Murtagh's eyes narrowed and he stretched out his mind to the knight.

_-strangest thing I've ever seen-hides its face-even a man?-markings on his eyes-_

Murtagh's resisted the urge to frown."Will he not come?"

Ser Beris shook his head. "He refuses to move, your majesty. He will not allow his face to be seen." _–took two men and a broken nose to figure it out the hard way-hands are decorated-red mark between his eyes-what is it?_

Murtagh could feel Thorn's consciousness looming over his own as if the ruby dragon were peeking over his shoulder out of curiosity. Murtagh dismissed Ser Beris with a tried wave of his hand and reached for his doublet. After adjusting his belt and taking a large gulp of wine to settle his nerves Murtagh strode out of the tent and jumped onto his horse.

"Ser Beris I hope Ser Geraint has not abandoned his post as you have," Murtagh said coolly as he tightened his grip on the reins. Ser Beris had the tact to not flinch at the jab.

"Your Lady is well cared for under the watchful eye of Ser Geraint, milord. She is safe under his gaze."

"She better be for the price I pay that sell sword," Murtagh muttered before he took off down the line row of tents with his steward and guard following him. He dismounted a short while later and greeted Thorn for a moment before striding into a black and red silk tent. He was greeted by Lord Rohm who lightly thumped his chest with his fist against his heart and bowed.

"Your Majesty he came with this," and the Lord handed the Prince a large roll of parchment bound around a painted wood. The seal was unmistakable. Black wax imprinted with that of a flat palmed hand with all the fingers straight and touching. Though the lords and soldiers would not recognize the seal, Murtagh knew it all too well.

The Black Hand.

The assassins of Galbatorix, trained personally by the king himself. Trained in the deadly arts almost as well as Murtagh himself had been. Murtagh's gaze followed Lord Rohm's to a dark corner where an unidentifiable person sat cross legged on the floor. The figure was swathed in black and Murtagh could not tell whether the person was male or female. The face was obscured by the same black cloth that obscured the assassins figure and only the eyes could be seen. One green eye and one blue, though the markings around the eyes were what puzzled Murtagh the most. He had never seen such markings before and a singular red dot was placed between the man's-woman's-_persons-_ eyes.

Murtagh turned his back to the figure and spoke quietly to Lord Rohm.

"How long has our guest been here?"

"Not enough to even catch his breath…if the creature breathed," Lord Rohm added doubtfully. "The moment I saw the seal I called Ser Beris to inform you. We are the only three who know of our guest. I thought perhaps it would be best that way."

Murtagh nodded in approval and clapped Lord Rohm on the shoulder.

"You have done well, maintain this secrecy for as long as you can. I have questions that only our guest can answer. Send Ser Beris back to his post, and alert Mistress Valdis that she will bed alone tonight."

"Majesty," Rohm said before he bowed and swiftly exited. Murtagh waited till the sound of hooves disappeared into the distance and the air was silent again. The tent of black silk was mildly transparent and when Murtagh turned back, the assassin peered through the silk steadily as Thorn's head dipped down and moved silently closer around the other side of the silk. Thorn hissed and a low growl rumbled from deep within his chest.

_The shadow man smells strange. I like it not._

_You are certain it is a man?_

_He does not smell pretty like Valdis does._

Murtagh smirked and he turned to the Black Hand.

"Have you a name, friend?"

The Black Hand turned his gaze to focus on Murtagh but he did not speak a word. Murtagh's eyes narrowed.

"I asked you a question, sir, I expect and answer from you."

The Black Hand dipped his head to indicate that the Rider should read the scroll in his hands and Murtagh wrenched open the seal with aggravation. It had been a long day of travel and organizing and he had been pestered to no end with simple troubles and required even simpler solutions. The scroll was in the king's own spidery extravagant script and was written in a cipher that he king himself had invented so that he might send commands and such to his servants. Yet it was only Murtagh who knew the cipher by heart and could read it as easily as he read runes. Murtagh's eyes felt unfocused for a moment, having not read the script in many months, but soon the words swam back to him with their powerful truth, and it became the only language that mattered as he read on. The words burned with magic as the true identity of the assassin was revealed and Murtagh's brows rose as he finished.

"You are from the Outer Lands…far from the reach of Alagaseia and the King's grasp."

The Black Hand nodded slowly.

"What's it like?"

The assassin's tattooed brow perked slightly at the question, but after a moment he gestured around him to the hard ground that turned into rock and sand and coarse grass as they moved towards the Hadarac desert.

"That is where you come from? From a desert? Is there nothing else? No rivers or green valley's?"

The assassin shook his head carefully. Murtagh moved to sit in a chair in front of the assassin and he stared into the Black Hand's mismatched eyes of sapphire and emerald. They were slightly vacant as though the Black Hand was attempting to clear his mind and Murtagh reached out with tentative tendrils of thought. Immediately he was attacked with something akin to black smoke. It swirled around Murtagh's loose thoughts and wrapped themselves tight around his mind. Rather than relying on strength the assassin poisoned his thoughts with rage and fear, corrupting the surface of Murtagh's defenses layer by layer. It was hardly a true threat to Murtagh who was protected by hundreds of layers of magic and will, yet he was curious and maintained in contact with the assassin's mind. The movements of the Black Hand were not aggressive. He did not taint thoughts that were important or had special meaning to Murtagh. He poisoned trivial things, things that had frustrated Murtagh that same day.

_-not seem obvious to find a safe place to put it? Am I asking too much, Thorn?_

_They are only human, _the dragon had sniffed.

_-you would think that for all their titles and supposed worth that they wouldn't have balls for brains. If I am asked once more where a potato crate should be place I will gut-_

And like that the memory vanished and a small portion of Murtagh anger did too. Murtagh smiled contemptuously and reached into the assassin's mind. He had a different kind of defense. His mind was open and unguarded yet his thoughts seemed coated in the same poison of fear and anger and every time Murtagh made to reach for one of these thoughts it slipped through his grasp as easily as water between fingers. Rather than building up substance against Murtagh, the assassin disappeared from him and made a maze of dark smoke filled tunnels for his attackers to go through before they found anything concrete to withdraw from him.

_It buys him time to counter attack those who seek to attack his own mind. The longer they stay the more they go through the maze-_

_And the harder it becomes for them to leave,_ Thorn finished, with impressed notes in his voice. _The king sends us a mental magician with dark arts from the far east of us. And to think I was debating eating such a fine human specimen for you to play with, little dragon._

* * *

><p>"Oh dear gods," Valdis breathed.<p>

Ser Geraint watched her with careful eyes.

"If you're going to faint might you do it over the bed or the chair, perhaps?"

Valdis dark eyes flashed and she lunged at Ser Geraint who nearly drew his sword. She pounded her fists against his chest plate and boxed him across the side of his face with a sound swing that made his ear ring.

"You find humor in a time like _this_? Are you that much of a cold-hearted bastard?" she railed.

"Better a cold-hearted bastard," Ser Geraint growled as he brushed himself off, "than a dead one."

"This world is poisoned because of slimy cowards like you!"

"This world is populated with those same cowards because of whores like you," Ser Geraint commented coolly. Valdis turned on him and her face grew red and her body trembled with absolute rage.

"I want you to leave," she said icily, "and you better believe that if you breathe a word of this to anyone, Ser Beris even, that I will come into your tent on some dark terrible night and slit your throat with your own blade. Do not press me if you think I'm bluffing, ser, because you will be sorely disappointed with the mortality of the results."

Ser Geraint's eyes glittered and he mock bowed to her.

"As the Great Whore commands, I am bound by my balls to obey her," he disappeared and a flying pot of perfume missed his head by a hairs breadth. The cunt had a good arm.

"I am going to smile when that sellsword prick dies," Valdis snarled to no one in particular.

"Someone has gotten you hot without my help…I feel useless," Murtagh teased from the shadows. Valdis yelped and turned to see the Prince of Alagaseia leaning against the tent pole with great leisure. Valdis opened her mouth to rail at him for not telling her the fate of those hundred prisoners who were burned to death but instead she grew frustrated and sad. How many times had she railed at Murtagh only to be cast off for a week or so until he wanted his bed warmed again? How many times had she been warned by Murtagh that her loose tongue would be cut out by the King if she did not guard herself? So instead Valdis decided to put her anger to use and wrenched at her dress till it ripped at the seam and then tore at the chemise beneath it till a bare breast was exposed.

"Reap the rewards of this heat and I promise you won't ride for a week."

Murtagh poorly masked his surprise with indifference before he yanked at his jerkin and stepped forward. Valdis jumped onto his body and wrapped her legs around him so tightly Murtagh grunted as the breath was squeezed from his body. She bit at his lips till she tasted blood and there were red marks where the Rider tore away the restrictive clothing of her dress till it was pushed and bunched to her waist. They fell to the bed and kissed hurriedly while Valdis yanked at Murtagh's belt, he raised himself up so she could work at the belt and with one deft motion she yanked it free from the loops and threw it with strength away from the bed. He kissed her again and he felt her hands cup his face and grip his hair, he dipped down with his hips and pressed firmly against her before pushing up and they rocked for a moment as they enjoyed the feeling of their mouths against each other.

"I can't remember the last time I bedded you," Murtagh said huskily as he kissed Valdis' throat.

"It was folly on your part then to have made me wait so long." Murtagh laughed from deep within his throat and Valdis could feel the way the muscles of his stomach contracted against her thighs when he lifted her up brushed her wild hair from her face.

"You're in a saucy mood," he observed as he nibbled at her lips.

"I'm angry and bored," she clarified but before he could even think to ask why that was she silenced his opening mouth with a kiss and swept her tongue across his lips. Murtagh let out a slit groan and flipped so she was sitting astride him.

"I hear the men say that you are becoming a hard rider," Murtagh breathed as Valdis yanked off his tunic.

"It only took me _months_ to learn how to not fall off…I can practice on you, milord, if it would please you."

Murtagh's eyes glittered and his jaw clenched, Valdis felt his belly tighten beneath her and she bit her lip and smiled. She looked into his eyes, though it made her nervous to do so and did not break his gaze as he raised himself up. He moved and rocked till he sat cross legged with Valdis wrapped around him and he smirked when Valdis teased her lips against his, pulling away just before their lips could truly collide.

"I think it would be wise for you to show me the skills you have attained…practice does make perfect."

"You prefer a hard rider over a graceful one?" Valdis breathed, gaining confidence the longer she held his gaze. Murtagh suddenly fell back and Valdis gasped as her weight fell completely on his chest.

"There have been many ladies at the court of this Empire who would do anything to be in my bed and they all possess skills that are supposed to impress me," yet Murtagh was decidedly bored with them all. "I don't care how prettily you can embroider flowers; I never mastered that art so I can't properly assess anything to do with needles and thread. I'm not impressed by how many languages you speak. The common tongue suits me well enough and I would much rather you be unclothed than weighed down with jewels and silks. So no, I don't want a gentle rider, Valdis Rayasdottir. I want a hard rider. No grace and no nobility."

He flipped her over and pressed his lips against her and let her taste his tongue till she pulled away gasping for air. He pinned her arms to the bed and growled with desire.

"I want a hard riding girl with no grace and no art. I want you. Now. I want to be ridden by the girl who comes from a fishing village so small that it's never been on any map. I want you to ride me like a common whore because I love you dearly for it. I want you to howl my name to the moon and stars till you lose your voice. I want you, Valdis. You cannot deny me."

Valdis sucked in air and searched Murtagh's eyes. They were clear and deep with his revelation and though her gut wrenched at the thought, the dead men who she had not seen die began to fade from her mind. It was sad and brief, but she could not stop their fates, and crying about it would only make hers the same. So instead she took Murtagh's calloused hand and trailed it down her soft belly till it cupped the lips between her thighs and she whispered into his ear.

"I will not deny you. Not on this night or for any night to come."

* * *

><p>Murtagh groaned as he stretched and twisted around in front of the hammered mirror to look at the scratches on his back. Some of them racked across his scar and he healed them with a single word of power. To his surprise and his immense pleasure, the scratches healed along with small portions of his old scar with it. "I'm surprised you're awake, milord."<p>

Murtagh shrugged and turned to looked at Valdis who looked thoroughly ravished and pretty because of it. Her lips were red and swollen from his kissing and her cheeks were tinged pink while her skin looked dewy and healthy. She languidly stretched beneath the furs and winced. "I think it is you who will not do the riding for a week, my lady."

"A week longer if you come back to bed," she teased.

Murtagh smirked and after waiting a moment walked over to the fur covered pallet and fell on top of Valdis who was snuggled beneath the furs, she laughed when his full weight was against hers and she sighed contentedly when he pressed gentle kisses to her jaw and cheeks."You can be quiet sweet when you want to be," she murmured into his ear while his kisses trailed lower and he had to peel away the furs to reach her flesh.

Murtagh hummed in agreement and rested his head against her belly and relaxed into the soft swell and fall of her breathing. "I could not have imagined what I was agreeing to when I struck our bargain," Valdis said suddenly.

Murtagh's brow rose though his eyes remained closed. "Are the profits you reap not pleasing?"

Valdis weakly laughed and placed her hand on his hair. "Overwhelming, your majesty, overwhelming."

Murtagh rose up and leaned over her so quickly Valdis flinched.

"I understand that you believed our bargain was only for one night, and I want to say that I would not have agreed to it if I had known all that would happen to you, all that you would have to see and endure."

Valdis' face remained soft and she traced the outline of his face with tentative fingertips, but she did not speak. Murtagh's brow furrowed and his voice was hard. "Have you nothing to say?"

Valdis shook her head but took a breath to speak. "Only that I am thankful for all that you have done for me and that…" she bit her lip and frowned up at him.

"Yes?" Murtagh prompted.

"That I would still choose to agree to our bargain knowing what I know now."

Murtagh did not hide his surprise.

"Then your…affection for me…is truly that strong?"

"Does the wind blow?"

Murtagh nodded and swallowing hard he leaned in to kiss her, but his eyes stayed open to watch the way her eyelashes fluttered.

"Always."

"Always," Valdis breathed before she kissed him again and this time she watched his face as he closed his eyes. And in that handsome face she knew she could be looking at either her destiny, or her doom. She could feel the unparalleled power of these forces looming over her but she ignored them and resigned herself to a stronger power, sleep.

* * *

><p>The army waited with baited breath at the edge of the Hadarac desert and searched through the shimmering horizon for the banners of the Wandering Tribes. Impressed with the Empire's victories and fearful no doubt of the amassing army marching their way, the Wandering Tribes had extended a more than cordial hand of friendship to King Galbatorix by way of valuable jewels that rivaled even the craftsmanship of the dwarves. Eager to keep his new friends in good spirits Galbatorix sent a letter to the Wandering Tribes expressing his happiness at such devotion and loyalty. The tribes, so convinced at the show of the king, insisted at meeting the army at the edges of the desert and treating them to the full hospitality reserved for royalty. Murtagh had received an unwelcome intrusion of the king's mind into his own with strict instructions to bring about a treaty between the tribes and the Empire with heavy payments for the desert people as a demonstration of loyalty and goodwill. With such demands Murtagh was sure that he would be outright denied and slaughtered for such requests. The treaty would be signed by proxy, with Murtagh acting the role of the king and signing as thus.<p>

It had been a good day when Murtagh had quite cheerfully announced that the king was taking his beastly black dragon back to Uru' baen, and nothing seemed to make Murtagh happier than to no longer have the king looming over his shoulder and invading his thoughts. Even if he still felt tainted from the visitation, and always had chills when he remembered the invasions of his mind and how the smooth voiced Galbatorix had called him "son", he was grateful that the king was gone.

Murtagh watched the horizon and fought to curb the agitation and impatience that wore at his momentary elation. He was in a rare good mood and he didn't like the prospect of it being spoiled by dawdling emissaries. He contacted Thorn.

_What do your dragon eyes see?_

_They ride in a great heard of a thousand horses and in litters of brightly colored silks. They will be here before dusk I think._

Murtagh's brow rose and he nodded with satisfaction as his dark eyes scanned the long expanse of desert before him.

_That is faster than I expected. It is only an hour or so till then._

_They are hard riders._

Murtagh smirked at the comment and Thorn's thoughts twitched with confusion.

_I fail to find what is so amusing in that._

_Valdis is a hard rider too, Thorn, I shall leave it at that._

Murtagh felt Thorn's desire to recoil mid-flight but he accepted it quickly and shrugged, as best as a dragon could while flying.

_I hope then it is practice for giving you offspring of your own._

_I don't think I have the patience to deal with drooling._

_Look!_

Murtagh's gaze snapped to the horizon and an incoming cloud of dust warned him of oncoming travelers. The banners of the tribe peeked over the hill and fluttered in their hurried pace. They were woven of raw silk and differed in such colorful extremes Murtagh thought he was looking at mirage. They all had one symbol in common however, the sun tangled between the coils of a snake. Murtagh heard the rustle of the camp behind him and was glad that he had ordered the camp to be positioned in a half crescent; so that when the Wandering Tribes joined them they would form a circle, a sign of unity and unending friendship. Murtagh heard the deep calls of Lord Rohm to his men to appear in formation and Murtagh looked over his shoulder lazily at the man.

The Lord's appreciative thoughts of Valdis' aid concerning Midri had long since been eclipsed by appreciative thoughts for Valdis' cunny. He greatly appreciated her swaying hips when she walked and her long autumn hair. It irked Murtagh to no end how lustful his gaze was becoming and he blocked the man's thoughts in time when Valdis suddenly appeared from the mass of tents and formally uniformed soldiers. Lord Rohm's gaze on her made Murtagh want to strike the man, it was soft and reminded Murtagh of a child begging an elder for a sweet. Murtagh resisted smiling when Valdis paid the man no attention and came forward with a sweeping halt to curtsy gracefully in front of him.

"Your gracious majesty," she cooed pleasantly but Murtagh was already taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He could not make an open display of affection for her for fear of losing the respect of his men and also because proclaiming his feelings or what not to strange, yet loyal men, made Murtagh squeamish. Valdis was happy when kissed her hand, and she playfully dug her nails into his fingers when his tongue briefly touched her skin. She retreated to the middle of a line of soldiers who were plumed and primped to their finest and her face took on a serious and observant look when she saw the emissaries coming over the hill. She gave Murtagh a nod of understanding and encouragement. She knew what her duty would be tonight and though Murtagh had told her she could not fail because she was not actually be charged with any mission he knew Valdis would pursue his suggestion with alacrity, despite her fear of making a diplomatic misstep. She was charming when she wanted to be, a trait he was hoping the Wandering Tribes would focus on more than the outrageous demands of the kings treaty.

The Wandering Tribes came over the hill and down the dunes quickly and stopped suddenly when they saw Murtagh with Thorn curled up on the side watching them all with vermillion eyes. He let out a puff of smoke that engulfed the emissaries for a moment and a dark skinned man with three braids trailing over his shoulder dismounted with jump and landed nimbly on his feet. He appraised the dragon with a black unflinching gaze. He was clothed in a colorful tunic of blue and bullion thread and wore thick bands of gold around his arms which were corded with muscle beneath the ebony flesh. Another man, old and with wispy graying hair dismounted slowly, betraying his age and hobbled forward to greet Murtagh who stood straight with military precision, in contrast to the bent man.

" Shalaka ot'et sahel, Viehl Murtagh." _Welcome to the desert, Prince Murtagh._

Murtagh stiffened. He was versed in a few languages but this was not one of them. Valdis stepped forward and greeted the man by taking his hand as if to shake it, but instead she lifted his hand so it brushed her forehead and then twisted her hand so it brushed his. The old man gleamed with pleasure.

"Lampa gassa, sahel onda." _Many thanks, desert elder. _

Murtagh looked down at Valdis with an unreadable expression, something akin to embarrassment, anger, surprise, and gratitude. _You can thank me later_ Valdis thought. Murtagh swallowed and took a deep breath in preparation to expel pleasantries.

"Welcome, friends of the Empire. I am Murtagh, Rider of the dragon Thorn and son of Morzan. I shall act as ambassador between you and the mighty King Galbatorix. He sends his regards for your appearance this day and hopes that after our visitation that our bonds of friendship may prove to be fruitful and free of conflict."

The Elder man whispered the words in the Wandering language to the dark skinned man with the three braids who answered with a reverberating hollow voice that seemed to come from deep within his chest. He gestured with his right hand to the company of soldier behind them and then to the countless liters of raw silk behind him. The Elder man muttered a question and Three-Braid nodded regally.

"The Prince Ashurtar sends his hopes that the sun has been warm, and the scorpions kind upon your pale skin. He hopes to bring his people and your people together as a great tribe of strength and power that will do justice to his royal blood of Voral and Zashak. He wishes that the sky-serpent Thorn has many fire filled days and prays that your Empire receives a long and victorious reign."

Murtagh nodded. "The Prince has my thanks and my friendship."

The Elder man smiled and nodded. Prince Ashurtar and Murtagh glared at each other with the detached air of men who might have to fight each other at any moment.

* * *

><p><em>The night was dark and full of stars. A hooded figure moved around the raw silk tents with a quickness that hinted at deception and a desire to not be seen. It ducked when a pair of soldiers walked by and darted between the shadows of the tents until she came to one that was protected by two sentinels with skin so dark they looked as if they were made of the night. They stopped the hooded figure from entering but when a slim wrist was held out, and a gold bangle was shown, the sentinels relaxed and allowed the figure inside. They watched around them, looking for spies and content to see nothing of danger they relaxed back to their postures and nodded at a few of the Empire's guard who walked by.<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>I did not know that you spoke our language," Valdis said as she entered the tent and removed the shawl that had covered her head.<em>

"_I was not told that you spoke mine," the Prince Ashurtar replied levelly. "What I will show to you is not to be told to anyone else in this world on pain of a gruesome death at the hands of Zashak. Would you swear blood with your oath of secrecy?"_

_Valdis nodded. "I swear blood."_

_Prince Ashurtar's skin glistened in the light of the lamps that were suspended by thick cord from the tent poles. The lamps were made of a myriad of colors and cast rich rainbow light throughout the space. The prince moved to a black box, cracked and worn with sand and time. An old lock burdened the chest opening but the prince removed a key from a chain he wore beneath his blue and bullion tunic. He stretched out a corded arm to hand her the key._

"_It is you who must look inside. My destiny was not for flight and fire."_

_Valdis shook her head, now nervous and very afraid._

"_You must," the prince insisted in his deep hollow voice, "Voral did not bless your womb with the Rider's child because Zashak has already woven your path in the stars. You cannot deny the will of gods. They have blessed your name with glory. It is now your path to choose whether it will be remembered with pride or shame."_

_Valdis licked her lips and took the key, she was surprised at how small and pale her hands were compared to Ashurtar's. He backed into the shadows and disappeared. The lock was old and rusted and it was only with great difficulty that it opened. She let the rock fall to the sand beneath her feet and she placed her hands at the corners of the lid. The old wood creaked as she opened the lid. _

_Nature had never polished a stone as smooth as this one. Its flawless surface was pure white, except for veins of gold that spiderwebbed across it. The stone was cool and frictionless under her fingers, like hardened silk. Oval and about a foot long, it weighed several pounds, though it felt lighter than it should have. Valdis found the stone to be both beautiful and frightening._

"_What is this?" she whispered, terrified and enraptured by the stone that balanced against her fingers._

"_It is a meeting of Voral and Zashak. It was born in blood and fire and has remained orphaned and cold for hundreds of years. You know what it contains, though your heart wavers to accept it."_

_Valdis felt the ghost of warmth across the stones polished surface and tilted her head so the veins of gold caught the light. Was the stone truly heating from the inside or merely at her touch? She shuddered at the possibility, yet for all her fear could not bring herself to toss the egg back onto its bed of faded silk and slam the chest closed. Her breathing began to race to the drumming beat of her heart and her eyes were wide with hunger, such hunger that was deep and rang familiar inside of her. It howled for fulfillment and gnawed at the edges of her will like a rabid wolf. Whatever was inside aggravated and calmed her. It was a sip of water when she wanted a glass. It was a chaste kiss when she wanted a lustful tumble. _

_The stone cooled her skin which burned with fire, yet she felt heat when she touched the golden veins. Whatever the stone had it was power. Power that she could only dream of, and truly it was all she had done. She had dreamed. Or had she remembered? Had she been fashioned by gods to a larger grander fate? One of light and glory? Was she a past spirit wronged, and placed into a new vessel to be set her past right? What was it? What did it contain? Such questions drew her mad and yet still she could not let go of the stone._

_A stone. She knew now holding it that it was not of the earth though it had lived in it for long enough. She could call it by its true name now._

"_Egg," she whispered breathlessly, "Egg…Dragon egg... Mine."_

"_Your name has been blessed with glory," Prince Ashurtar whispered from the shadows, "It your choice whether it shall be whispered in shame or yelled with pride."_

_Valdis stood and she stood with pride and her voice spoke with the power of the ages._

"_Speak of this to no one. I will appear at with the dawn and be hailed by the cheers of my people."_

_How could they know? How could they ever understand? _

_They will have to be shown Valdis thought that is the only way that my people will believe._

* * *

><p><em>She walked past the tents and the sky was still pale with night. She heard Murtagh's voice and it was strong with honor and nobility. She smiled as she felt the sand give way beneath her feet. She would stand by him soon, and he would truly see her for the first time. He would see her and love her more than any man could ever truly love anything. She walked through the sand and the snakes did not hiss and the scorpions did not sting. They shrank into the brush at the sight of her white dragon whose scales began to glimmer in all the colors of the rising light. She could see him now, Murtagh the prince, as he stood on the tallest dune of the desert and shouted a speech that roused his men into a thirst for war. Thorn was the first to see her and when he did he was silent with awe.<em>

_Just then, the sun came over the horizon and painted the desert world with light and brilliance when her dragon's scales were illuminated in the light. Myriads of color fell upon the faces of the Empire's army and her dragon raised its voice into the dry desert air. It was shrieking and carried the fate of all within its voice. Her dragon clung to her shoulder and spread its clear and long wings as it screeched ever louder, and the entire world was silent as it heard its call. The soldiers, in awe, fell to their knee's as they looked upon her and Valdis turned to see Murtagh gazing at her with a beautiful smile on his face._

"_We are equal now," she said to him as her dragon howled to the air. "We are one."_

_Valdis looked forward toward the horizon and saw that the expanse of land was bathed in a new day. Such pride and joy welled up inside of her that she thought her heart would tear itself from her chest. She smiled and laughed as her dragon shrieked to all and tears of joy spilled down her cheeks. Her purpose was clear. No longer would she feel lost and aimless. She would not be kicked and hurt by the lesser men of this world. She had power. She was great. She was a Rider._

"_This land will flourish under the rule of the Riders!" she said to Murtagh who look at Valdis hand as her hand was outstretched to him; he looked at the gedwey ignasia that was burned into her palm. His face was full of relief and he shared her joy as well. He would be alone with his burden no longer. She took his hand and the mark of the Riders seared their skin as they touched. Valdis looked out over the horizon and saw their future clear as the light of the morning. It was glorious._

"_This world is ours."_

* * *

><p>Valdis woke from her dream screaming and a wave of agony and emptiness crushed her beneath its weight leaving her breathless and heaving for breath. Ser Beris leapt into the tent with his sword drawn and a snarl on his lips, but when he saw no one he looked at her crumpled crying form and frowned, sheathing his sword he moved over to the bed cautiously.<p>

"My lady? It was a bad dream that is all."

"No," Valdis cried fighting the urge to wail, "It wasn't _bad_."

Ser Beris smiled uncomfortably. "Then why are you crying, sweet lady?"

"Because," she said breathless. "Because _it wasn't real."_

Ser Beris shook his head and muttered to himself.

"Sleep, sweet lady. The night is almost done and the Prince shall be with you soon. Sleep."

With one more scan of the tent Ser Beris left Valdis to cry freely, but silently. When it wearied her, and she could cry no more she rose to cross the threshold and look at herself in the hammered mirror that hung against one of the tent poles. Her plait was coming undone, her face was red and her eyes were swollen and watery. Her shoulder was absent a white and gold dragon. She looked down at her hands, both to be sure, but the mark of the Rider's had not stamped her palm with destiny. Valdis looked at the bed behind her through the mirror. Murtagh was absent and he did not love her.

All the things she had dreamt of were some coinage of her brain. Whether to make her happy or torment her she was not sure, but the effect was crushing and hollowing. A few more tears and a few more stifled sobs escaped her before she slowly walked to the bed and collapsed on top of the furs. Almost immediately her vision began to darken around the edges and she felt the gentle tug of sleep, it was especially soft and warm, and with her last thoughts Valdis wondered if it was a sort of apology for her suffering.


End file.
