Murtagh (The Inheritance Cycle, #5)

by Christopher Paolini

A coil of tension formed in Murtagh’s chest. He’d hoped he was wrong. He’d hoped the whispers and warnings had meant nothing ….

Wait what, Murtagh *sought out* the thing Umaroth told him to stay away from? *Why?* Why can’t Murtagh just stumble across this and realise, “Oh no, it’s that thing Umaroth told me about”?

Their relationship wasn’t as smooth as Eragon and Saphira’s, and Murtagh didn’t think it ever would be. But that was all right. A dull thorn was no thorn at all.

I like this approach, but I wish it *mattered* to the book and its events more.

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted her to catch me.” Thorn’s mouth spread in an approximation of a smile. Maybe you should let her. It might ease the fire in your belly. Murtagh snorted. “You know what that leads to. Children.” Hatchlings are not a bad thing. He eyed Thorn, serious.

LMAO

He touched one of the ribs along the walls. The bone was cool and smooth against his hand, and he felt a pang imagining it was Thorn’s. But he was not sure how much sorrow he felt for Morzan’s dragon. The creature had chosen to serve Galbatorix as much as Morzan had himself; they were both culpable for their sins.

I’ve always wondered what Murtagh’s thoughts about his father’s dragon were. It’s never, ever mentioned in the main Cycle, and Murtagh must have some memory of it if he has memories of his father. I hope this is addressed at some point, but I’m not getting my hopes up after it *not* being addressed here. Also, Morzan and his dragon have been dead for less than twenty years. How is the dragon buried beneath Gil’ead like this? It sounds like the city just decide to build houses on top of a fresh corpse??? Jesus.

He tried to avoid remembering, but thoughts of Esvar and the cell hidden behind the door of stone were no less unpleasant. Oathbreaker, that’s what I am. And he knew it was so, for oathbreaker was part of his true name.

Aww, poor babbu :(

He looked at the deer, contemplating what he had done. The animal’s eyes were still open, and they were beautiful: round and glassy and gentle. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

I’d think Murtagh would be too pragmatic and too hardened by his experiences to be sad about killing a deer for Thorn, who’s in dire straits rn. Not only does this make him ring similar to Eragon, but part of me can’t ignore that this is born from Paolini’s vegetarian bias rather than it being an aspect of Murtagh’s character.

Most of all, Murtagh didn’t want to admit to the world that he or Thorn needed anyone else’s help. His stance was sheer stubborn pride, but he could not bring himself to show their weakness to the world. Weakness was dangerous; weakness allowed others to hurt and exploit you. Weakness was the first step on the path to death.

Mmm this is the Murtagh nine-year-old me fell in love with 😈

“All this,” he said, his voice harsh and stark in the thin air. He coughed. “All this because the Riders didn’t kill Galbatorix when they had the chance. If they had—” You would not have been born. “Then maybe someone else would have had a better opportunity at life.”

Delicious angst yesss.

Murtagh made a face as he started to push upright and the droppings squished between his fingers. He uttered a single, soundless curse, as foul as the situation he found himself in. The heel of his palm sank into the excrement and touched cold hardness buried within. He frowned. Huh. Despite his disgust, he dug down until he could grasp the object. It felt like metal: oval, half the size of his hand, with carving on one side. A coin? But no, it was too large for that. Keeping a firm grip on the object, he stood up and carefully made his way back out through the tower door.

Convenient! Also, “uttered a soundless curse”? I’m trying to figure out how that one works 🤔

Thorn’s nostrils flared. If it is, we must know, for the sake of the hatchlings at Mount Arngor. Anything dangerous enough to threaten the Riders of old could destroy the next generation of dragons. Stay on the hunt, search the spoor. There are old secrets here, I can smell it.

What? If it’s *that* dangerous and you need to let other people know of what you found, *just leave*! The only thing keeping them there is their honour. Why are you two so dumb?!

Icy dread coiled within Murtagh’s core, and his whole body tensed at the word father, the response as instinctual as pain.

Aw, poor baby :(

A moment of grim understanding passed between them. The witch was more capable than either of them had expected, and Murtagh did not want to test their magic against hers, for fear they would fall far short.

No way…. /s Bachel’s made enchanted necklaces that resist the Name of Names, they knew going into this it would be hard. Murtagh and Thorn are so, so stupid. Also, when are they gonna figure out that by “saving the world”, Bachel means, “Murtagh and Thorn are gonna destroy the world to shape in the image we want, therefore saving it”?

The last of the warriors went limp and lifeless as Murtagh tightened his sword belt and fetched his cloak from the saddlebags.

Didn’t Murtagh get mad at Bachel needlessly killing people like, that morning? Bro….

Then Murtagh stepped back, and his heel caught against the lip of a stone tile in the floor.

This is like, the tenth time he’s tripped in this book. Maybe my guy needs to get checked for vertigo.

Even in his worst nightmares, Murtagh had never imagined they would find themselves in a like situation again. Foolish, he thought, and cursed himself. He’d been overconfident, and now both he and Thorn were paying the price.

I want to say I told you so, but goddamnit.

It felt as if he were trying to grasp liquid ice;

*do you mean water*

“We agreed. You can’t stay. If you do, the king—” “If I do, the king will turn me into my father. He’ll make me into another one of his bloody-minded lackeys, same as Barst or Yarek,” said Murtagh, with no attempt to hide his bitterness. “It’s not just that,” said Tornac. “Even if you weren’t Morzan’s son, this isn’t a good place for you, Murtagh. Those leeches at court will ruin you if you stay.” Pride made him reply, “I’d never let them.” Tornac stopped and stared at him over the back of the roan. “You say that now, but they’ll keep grinding you down, year after year. That sort of attention cripples a man’s soul. I’ve seen it happen.”

I would prefer to avoid having to fly all the way out to Arngor.

I’m sorry, is Thorn a car? Why, oh *why* are the dragons in these dragon-Rider partnerships consistently dumped into the magical talking animal companion slot rather than the as-advertised equal partners? Thorn and Saphira before him seem to have the same sort of agency as Nighteyes :(

“You are the only one I can rely on in these matters. The only person whom I don’t have to worry about being corrupted by gold or magic or promises of power.”

Murtagh seems to flop a lot on the subject of wanting power, so hmm. Also, as much as I would like these two to kiss, I want them to have an actual, adult relationship because they have so much BAGGAGE. Due to the, you know *checks notes* uhhh, torture and then just upping and leaving that happened in Inheritance. I went back to skim those sections of the book and man, I did not realise or remember the state of that relationship from when I was 14.