The Mistborn Trilogy (133 page)

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Authors: Brandon Sanderson

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BOOK: The Mistborn Trilogy
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“Demoux,” Elend said. “When is your next Survivor rally?”

“Tonight, my lord.”

Elend nodded. He’d feared that; it would be a cold night.

“My lord,” Demoux said, “do you still intend to come?”

“Of course,” Elend said. “I gave my word that I would join with your cause.”

“That was before you lost the vote, my lord.”

“That is immaterial,” Elend said. “I am joining your movement because it is important to the skaa, Demoux, and I want to understand the will of my…of the people. I promised you dedication—and you shall have it.”

Demoux seemed a bit confused, but spoke no further. Elend eyed his desk, considering some studying, but found it hard to motivate himself in the chill room. Instead, he pushed open the door and strode out into the hallway. His guards followed.

He stopped himself from turning toward Vin’s rooms. She needed her rest, and it didn’t do her much good to have him peeking in every half hour to check on her. So instead he turned to wander down a different passageway.

The back hallways of Keep Venture were tight, dark, stone constructions of labyrinthine complexity. Perhaps it was because he’d grown up in these passages, but he felt at home in their dark, secluded confines. They had been the perfect place for a young man who didn’t really care to be found. Now he used them for another reason; the corridors provided a perfect place for extended walking. He didn’t point himself in any particular direction, he just moved, working out his frustration to the beating of his own footsteps.

I can’t fix the city’s problems,
he told himself.
I have to let Penrod handle that—he’s the one the people want.

That should have made things easier for Elend. It let him focus on his own survival, not to mention let him spend time revitalizing his relationship with Vin. She, however, seemed different lately. Elend tried to tell himself it was just her injury, but he sensed something deeper. Something in the way she looked at him, something in the way she reacted to his affection. And, despite himself, he could think of only one thing that had changed.

He was no longer king.

Vin was not shallow. She had shown him nothing but devotion and love during their two years together. And yet, how could she not react—even if unconsciously—to his colossal failure? During the assassination attempt, he had watched her fight.
Really
watched her fight, for the first time. Until that day, he hadn’t realized just how amazing she was. She wasn’t just a warrior, and she wasn’t just an Allomancer. She was a force, like thunder or wind. The way she had killed that last man, smashing his head with her own…

How could she love a man like me?
he thought.
I couldn’t even hold my throne. I wrote the very laws that deposed me.

He sighed, continuing to walk. He felt like he should be scrambling, trying to figure out a way to convince Vin that he was worthy of her. But that would just make him seem more incompetent. There was no correcting past mistakes, especially since he could see no real “mistakes” he had made. He had done the best he could, and that had proven insufficient.

He paused at an intersection. Once, a relaxing dip into a book would have been enough to calm him. Now he felt nervous. Tense. A little…like he assumed Vin usually felt.

Maybe I could learn from her,
he thought.
What would Vin do in my situation?
She certainly wouldn’t just wander around, brooding and feeling sorry for herself. Elend frowned, looking down a hallway lighted by flickering oil lamps, only half of them lit. Then he took off, walking with a determined stride toward a particular set of rooms.

He knocked quietly, and got no response. Finally, he poked his head in. Sazed and Tindwyl sat quietly before a desk piled high with scraps of paper and ledgers. They both sat staring, as if at nothing, their eyes bearing the glazed-over look of someone who had been stunned. Sazed’s hand rested on the table. Tindwyl’s rested on top of it.

Sazed shook himself alert suddenly, turning to regard Elend. “Lord Venture! I am sorry. I did not hear you enter.”

“It’s all right, Saze,” Elend said, walking into the room. As he did, Tindwyl shook awake as well, and she removed her hand from Sazed’s. Elend nodded to Demoux and his companion—who were still following—indicating that they should remain outside, then closed the door.

“Elend,” Tindwyl said, her voice laced with its typical undercurrent of displeasure. “What is your purpose in bothering us? You have already proven your incompetence quite soundly—I see no need for further discussion.”

“This is still my home, Tindwyl,” Elend replied. “Insult me again, and you will find yourself ejected from the premises.”

Tindwyl raised an eyebrow.

Sazed paled. “Lord Venture,” he said quickly, “I don’t think that Tindwyl meant to—”

“It’s all right, Sazed,” Elend said, raising a hand. “She was just testing to see if I had reverted back to my previous state of insultability.”

Tindwyl shrugged. “I have heard reports of your moping through the palace hallways like a lost child.”

“Those reports are true,” Elend said. “But that doesn’t mean that my pride is completely gone.”

“Good,” Tindwyl said, nodding to a chair. “Seat yourself, if you wish.”

Elend nodded, pulling the chair over before the two and sitting. “I need advice.”

“I’ve given you what I can already,” Tindwyl said. “In fact, I’ve perhaps given you too much. My continued presence here makes it seem that I’m taking sides.”

“I’m not king anymore,” Elend said. “Therefore, I have no side. I’m just a man seeking truth.”

Tindwyl smiled. “Ask your questions, then.”

Sazed watched the exchange with obvious interest.

I know,
Elend thought,
I’m not sure I understand our relationship either.
“Here is my problem,” he said. “I lost the throne, essentially, because I wasn’t willing to lie.”

“Explain,” Tindwyl said.

“I had a chance to obscure a piece of the law,” Elend said. “At the last moment, I could have made the Assembly take me as king. Instead, I gave them a bit of information that was true, but which ended up costing me the throne.”

“I’m not surprised,” Tindwyl said.

“I doubted that you would be,” Elend said. “Now, do you think I was foolish to do as I did?”

“Yes.”

Elend nodded.

“But,” Tindwyl said, “that moment isn’t what cost you the throne, Elend Venture. That moment was a small thing, far too simple to credit with your large-scale failure. You lost the throne because you wouldn’t command your armies to secure the city, because you insisted on giving the Assembly too much freedom, and because you don’t employ assassins or other forms of pressure. In short, Elend Venture, you lost the throne because you are a good man.”

Elend shook his head. “Can you not be both a man who follows his conscience
and
a good king, then?”

Tindwyl frowned in thought.

“You ask an age-old question, Elend,” Sazed said quietly. “A question that monarchs, priests, and humble men of destiny have always asked. I do not know that there is an answer.”

“Should I have told the lie, Sazed?” Elend asked.

“No,” Sazed said, smiling. “Perhaps another man should have, in your same position. But, a man must be cohesive with himself. You have made your decisions in life, and changing yourself at the last moment—telling this lie—would have been against who you are. It is better for you to have done as you did and lost the throne, I think.”

Tindwyl frowned. “His ideals are nice, Sazed. But what of the people? What if they die because Elend wasn’t capable of controlling his own conscience?”

“I do not wish to argue with you, Tindwyl,” Sazed said. “It is simply my opinion that he chose well. It is his right to follow his conscience, then trust in providence to fill in the holes caused by the conflict between morality and logic.”

Providence.
“You mean God,” Elend said.

“I do.”

Elend shook his head. “What is God, Sazed, but a device used by obligators?”

“Why do you make the choices that you do, Elend Venture?”

“Because they’re right,” Elend said.

“And why are these things right?”

“I don’t know,” Elend said with a sigh, leaning back. He caught a disapproving glance from Tindwyl at his posture, but he ignored her. He wasn’t king; he could slouch if he wanted to. “You talk of God, Sazed, but don’t you preach of a hundred different religions?”

“Three hundred, actually,” Sazed said.

“Well, which one do
you
believe?” Elend asked.

“I believe them all.”

Elend shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve only pitched a half-dozen to me, but I can already see that they’re incompatible.”

“It is not my position to judge truth, Lord Venture,” Sazed said, smiling. “I simply carry it.”

Elend sighed.
Priests…
he thought.
Sometimes, talking to Sazed is like talking to an obligator.

“Elend,” Tindwyl said, her tone softening. “I think you handled this situation in the wrong way. However, Sazed does have a point. You were true to your own convictions, and that is a regal attribute, I think.”

“And what should I do now?” he asked.

“Whatever you wish,” Tindwyl said. “It was never my place to tell you what to do. I simply gave you knowledge of what men in your place did in the past.”

“And what would they have done?” Elend asked. “These great leaders of yours, how would they have reacted to my situation?”

“It is a meaningless question,” she said. “They would not have found themselves in this situation, for they would not have lost their titles in the first place.”

“Is that what it’s about, then?” Elend asked. “The title?”

“Isn’t that what we were discussing?” Tindwyl asked.

Elend didn’t answer.
What do you think makes a man a good king?
he had once asked of Tindwyl.
Trust,
she had replied.
A good king is one who is trusted by his people—and one who deserves that trust.

Elend stood up. “Thank you, Tindwyl,” he said.

Tindwyl frowned in confusion, then turned to Sazed. He looked up and met Elend’s eyes, cocking his head slightly. Then he smiled. “Come, Tindwyl,” he said. “We should return to our studies. His Majesty has work to do, I think.”

Tindwyl continued to frown as Elend left the room. His guards followed behind as he quickly strode down the hallway.

I won’t go back to the way I was,
Elend thought.
I won’t continue to fret and worry. Tindwyl taught me better than that, even if she never really understood me.

Elend arrived at his rooms a few moments later. He stalked directly in, then opened his closet. The clothing Tindwyl had chosen for him—the clothing of a king—waited inside.

 
42
 

Some of you may know of my fabled memory. It is true; I need not a Feruchemist’s metalmind to memorize a sheet of words in an instant.

 

“Good,” Elend said, using a charcoal stick to circle another section on the city map before him. “What about here?”

Demoux scratched his chin. “Grainfield? That’s a nobleman’s neighborhood, my lord.”

“It used to be,” Elend said. “Grainfield was filled with cousin houses to the Ventures. When my father pulled out of the city, so did most of them.”

“Then we’ll probably find the homes filled with skaa transients, I’d guess.”

Elend nodded. “Move them out.”

“Excuse me, my lord?” Demoux said. The two stood in Keep Venture’s large carriage landing. Soldiers moved in a bustle through the spacious room. Many of them didn’t wear uniforms; they weren’t on official city business. Elend was no longer king, but they had still come at his request.

That said something, at least.

“We need to move the skaa out of those homes,” Elend continued. “Noblemen’s houses are mostly stone mansions with a lot of small rooms. They’re extremely hard to heat, requiring a separate hearth or a stove for every room. The skaa tenements are depressing, but they have massive hearths and open rooms.”

Demoux nodded slowly.

“The Lord Ruler couldn’t have his workers freezing,” Elend said. “Those tenements are the best way to efficiently look after a large population of people with limited resources.”

“I understand, my lord,” Demoux said.

“Don’t force them, Demoux,” Elend said. “My personal guard—even augmented with army volunteers—has no official authority in the city. If a family wants to stay in their pilfered aristocratic house, let them. Just make certain that they know there’s an alternative to freezing.”

Demoux nodded, then moved over to pass on the commands. Elend turned as a messenger arrived. The man had to weave his way through an organized jumble of soldiers receiving orders and making plans.

Elend nodded to the newcomer. “You’re on the demolitions scout group, correct?”

The man nodded as he bowed. He wasn’t in uniform; he was a soldier, not one of Elend’s guards. He was a younger man, with a square jaw, balding head, and honest smile.

“Don’t I know you?” Elend said.

“I helped you a year ago, my lord,” the man said. “I led you into the Lord Ruler’s palace to help rescue Lady Vin….”

“Goradel,” Elend said, remembering. “You used to be in the Lord Ruler’s personal guard.”

The man nodded. “I joined up in your army after that day. Seemed like the thing to do.”

Elend smiled. “Not my army anymore, Goradel, but I do appreciate you coming to help us today. What’s your report?”

“You were right, my lord,” Goradel said, “the skaa have already robbed the empty homes for furniture. But, not many thought of the walls. A good half of the abandoned mansions have wooden walls on the inside, and a lot of the tenements were made of wood. Most all of them have wooden roofs.”

“Good,” Elend said. He surveyed the gathering mass of men. He hadn’t told them his plans; he’d simply asked for volunteers to help him with some manual labor. He hadn’t expected the response to number in the hundreds.

“It looks like we’re gathering quite a group, my lord,” Demoux said, rejoining Elend.

Elend nodded, giving leave for Goradel to withdraw. “We’ll be able to try an even more ambitious project than I’d planned.”

“My lord,” Demoux said. “Are you certain you want to start tearing the city down around ourselves?”

“We either lose buildings or we lose people, Demoux,” Elend said. “The buildings go.”

“And if the king tries to stop us?”

“Then we obey,” Elend said. “But I don’t think Lord Penrod will object. He’s too busy trying to get a bill through the Assembly that hands the city over to my father. Besides, it’s probably better for him to have these men here, working, than it is to have them sitting and worrying in the barracks.”

Demoux fell silent. Elend did as well; both knew how precarious their position was. Only a short time had passed since the assassination attempt and the transfer of power, and the city was in shock. Cett was still holed up inside of Keep Hasting, and his armies had moved into position to attack the city. Luthadel was like a man with a knife pressed very closely to his throat. Each breath cut the skin.

I can’t do much about that now,
Elend thought.
I have to make certain the people don’t freeze these next few nights.
He could feel the bitter cold, despite the daylight, his cloak, and the shelter. There were a lot of people in Luthadel, but if he could get enough men tearing down enough buildings, he just might be able to do some good.

“My lord!”

Elend turned as a short man with a drooping mustache approached. “Ah, Felt,” he said. “You have news?” The man was working on the poisoned-food problem—specifically how the city was being breached.

The scout nodded. “I do indeed, my lord. We interrogated the refugees with a Rioter, and we came up dry. Then, however, I started thinking. The refugees seemed too obvious to me. Strangers in the city? Of course they’d be the first ones we’d suspect. I figured, with how much has been going wrong with the wells and the food and the like, someone
has
to be sneaking in and out of the city.”

Elend nodded. They’d been watching Cett’s soldiers inside Keep Hasting very carefully, and none of them was responsible. Straff’s Mistborn was still a possibility, but Vin had never believed that he was behind the poisoning. Elend hoped that the trail—if it could be found—would lead back to someone in his own palace, hopefully revealing who on his serving staff had been replaced by a kandra.

“Well?” Elend asked.

“I interrogated the people who run passwalls,” Felt continued. “I don’t think they’re to blame.”

“Passwalls?”

Felt nodded. “Covert passages out of the city. Tunnels or the like.”

“Such things exist?” Elend asked with surprise.

“Of course, my lord,” Felt said. “Moving between cities was very difficult for skaa thieves during the Lord Ruler’s reign. Everyone who entered Luthadel was subject to interview and interrogation. So, ways to get into the city covertly were very prevalent. Most of those have shut down—the ones who used to lower people up and down by ropes over the walls. A few are still running, but I don’t think they are letting the spies in. Once that first well was poisoned, the passwalls all got paranoid that you’d come after them. Since then, they’ve only been letting people
out
of the city—ones who want to run from the besieged city and the like.”

Elend frowned. He wasn’t certain what he thought of the fact that people were disobeying his order that the gates be shut, with no passage out.

“Next,” Felt said, “I tried the river.”

“We thought of that,” Elend said. “The grates covering the water are all secure.”

Felt smiled. “That they are. I sent some men down under the water to search about, and we found several locks down below, keeping the river grates in place.”

“What?”

“Someone pried the grates free, my lord,” Felt said, “then locked them back into place so it wouldn’t look suspicious. That way, they could swim in and out at their leisure.”

Elend raised an eyebrow.

“You want us to replace the grates?” Felt asked.

“No,” Elend said. “No, just replace those locks with new ones, then post men to watch. Next time those prisoners try and get into the city, I want them to find themselves trapped.”

Felt nodded, retreating with a happy smile on his face. His talents as a spy hadn’t been put to much good use lately, and he seemed to be enjoying the tasks Elend was giving him. Elend made a mental note to think about putting Felt to work on locating the kandra spy—assuming, of course, that Felt himself wasn’t the spy.

“My lord,” Demoux said, approaching. “I think I might be able to offer a second opinion on how the poisonings are occurring.”

Elend turned. “Oh?”

Demoux nodded, waving for a man to approach from the side of the room. He was younger, perhaps eighteen, and had the dirty face and clothing of a skaa worker.

“This is Larn,” Demoux said. “A member of my congregation.”

The young man bowed to Elend, posture nervous.

“You may speak, Larn,” Demoux said. “Tell Lord Venture what you saw.”

“Well, my lord,” the young man said. “I tried to go tell this to the king. The new king, I mean.” He flushed, embarrassed.

“It’s all right,” Elend said. “Continue.”

“Well, the men there turned me away. Said the king didn’t have time for me. So, I came to Lord Demoux. I figured he might believe me.”

“About what?” Elend asked.

“Inquisitor, my lord,” the man said quietly. “I saw one in the city.”

Elend felt a chill. “You’re sure?”

The young man nodded. “I’ve lived in Luthadel all my life, my lord. Watched executions a number of times. I’d recognize one of those monsters, sure I would. I saw him. Spikes through the eyes, tall and robed, slinking about at night. Near the center squares of the city. I promise you.”

Elend shared a look with Demoux.

“He’s not the only one, my lord,” Demoux said quietly. “Some other members of my congregation claimed to have seen an Inquisitor hanging around Kredik Shaw. I dismissed the first few, but Larn, he’s trustworthy. If he said he saw something, he did. Eyes nearly as good as a Tineye, that one.”

Elend nodded slowly, and ordered a patrol from his personal guard to keep watch in the area indicated. After that, he turned his attention back to the wood-gathering effort. He gave the orders, organizing the men into teams, sending some to begin working, others to gather recruits. Without fuel, many of the city’s forges had shut down, and the workers were idle. They could use something to occupy their time.

Elend saw energy in the men’s eyes as they began to split up. Elend knew that determination, that firmness of eye and arm. It came from the satisfaction of doing something, of not just sitting around and waiting for fate—or kings—to act.

Elend turned back to the map, making a few notations. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ham saunter in. “So this is where they all went!” Ham said. “The sparring grounds are empty.”

Elend looked up, smiling.

“You’re back to the uniform, then?” Ham asked.

Elend glanced down at his white outfit. Designed to stand out, to set him apart from a city stained by ash. “Yes.”

“Too bad,” Ham said with a sigh. “Nobody should have to wear a uniform.”

Elend raised an eyebrow. In the face of undeniable winter, Ham had finally taken to wearing a shirt beneath his vest. He wore no cloak or coat, however.

Elend turned back to the map. “The clothing suits me,” he said. “It just feels right. Anyway, that vest of yours is as much a uniform as this is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Oh?” Elend asked. “Nothing screams Thug like a man who goes about in the winter without a coat, Ham. You’ve used your clothing to change how people react to you, to let them know who you are and what you represent—which is essentially what a uniform does.”

Ham paused. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

“What?” Elend said. “You never argued about something like this with Breeze?”

Ham shook his head as he turned to look over the groups of men, listening to the men Elend had appointed to give orders.

He’s changed,
Elend thought.
Running this city, dealing with all of this, it’s even changed him.
The Thug was more solemn, now—more focused. Of course, he had even more stake in the city’s safety than the rest of the crew. It was sometimes hard to remember that the free-spirited Thug was a family man. Ham tended to not talk much about Mardra or his two children. Elend suspected it was habit; Ham had spent much of his marriage living apart from his family in order to keep them safe.

This whole city is my family,
Elend thought, watching the soldiers leave to do their work. Some might have thought something as simple as gathering firewood to be a mundane task, of little relevance in a city threatened by three armies. However, Elend knew that the freezing skaa people would receive the fuel with as much appreciation as they would salvation from the armies.

The truth was that Elend felt a little like his soldiers did. He felt a satisfaction—a thrill even—from doing something,
anything,
to help.

“What if Cett’s attack comes?” Ham said, still looking over the soldiers. “A good portion of the army will be out scattered through the city.”

“Even if we have a thousand men in my teams, that’s not much of a dent in our forces. Besides, Clubs thinks there will be plenty of time to gather them. We’ve got messengers set up.”

Elend looked back at his map. “Anyway, I don’t think Cett’s going to attack just yet. He’s pretty safe in that keep, there. We’ll never take him—we’d have to pull too many men away from the city defenses, leaving ourselves exposed. The only thing he really has to worry about is my father…”

Elend trailed off.

“What?” Ham said.

“That’s why Cett is here,” Elend said, blinking in surprise. “Don’t you see? He intentionally left himself without options. If Straff attacks, Cett’s armies will end up fighting alongside our own. He’s locked in his fate with ours.”

Ham frowned. “Seems like a pretty desperate move.”

Elend nodded, thinking back to his meeting with Cett. “‘Desperate,’” he said. “That’s a good word. Cett is desperate for some reason—one I haven’t been able to figure out. Anyway, by putting himself in here, he sides with us against Straff—whether we want the alliance or not.”

“But, what if the Assembly gives the city to Straff? If our men join with him and attack Cett?”

“That’s the gamble he took,” Elend said.
Cett never intended to be able to walk away from the confrontation here in Luthadel. He intends to take the city or be destroyed.

He is waiting, hoping Straff will attack, worrying that we’ll just give into him. But neither can happen as long as Straff is afraid of Vin. A three-way standoff. With the koloss as a fourth element that nobody can predict.

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