Read The Mistborn Trilogy Online
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #bought-and-paid-for
I had never received much attention from my brethren; they thought that my work and my interests were unsuitable to a Worldbringer. The couldn’t see how my work, studying nature instead of religion, benefited the people of the fourteen lands.
Vin sat quietly, tensely, scanning the crowd.
Cett wouldn’t have come alone,
she thought.
And then she saw them, now that she knew what she was looking for. Soldiers in the crowd, dressed like skaa, forming a small protective buffer around Cett’s seat. The king did not rise, though a young man at his side did.
Maybe thirty guards,
Vin thought.
He may not be foolish enough to come alone…but entering the very city you’re besieging?
It was a bold move—one that bordered on stupidity. Of course, many had said the same about Elend’s visit to Straff’s army.
But Cett wasn’t in the same position as Elend. He wasn’t desperate, wasn’t in danger of losing everything. Except…he had a smaller army than Straff, and the koloss were coming. And if Straff did secure the supposed atium supply, Cett’s days as leader in the West would certainly be numbered. Coming into Luthadel might not have been an act of desperation, but it also wasn’t the act of a man who held the upper hand. Cett was gambling.
And he seemed to be enjoying it.
Cett smiled as the room waited in silence, Assemblymen and audience alike too shocked to speak. Finally, Cett waved to a few of his disguised soldiers, and the men picked up Cett’s chair and carried it to the stage. Assemblymen whispered and commented, turning to aides or companions, seeking confirmation of Cett’s identity. Most of the noblemen sat quietly—which should have been enough of a confirmation, in Vin’s mind.
“He’s not what I expected,” Vin whispered to Breeze as the soldiers climbed up on the dais.
“Nobody told you he was crippled?” Breeze asked.
“Not just that,” Vin said. “He’s not wearing a suit.” He had on a pair of trousers and a shirt, but instead of a nobleman’s suit coat, he was wearing a worn black jacket. “Plus, that beard. He couldn’t have grown a beast like that in one year—he must have had it before the Collapse.”
“You only knew noblemen in Luthadel, Vin,” Ham said. “The Final Empire was a big place, with a lot of different societies. Not everybody dresses like they do here.”
Breeze nodded. “Cett was the most powerful nobleman in his area, so he needn’t worry about tradition and propriety. He did what he wished, and the local nobility pandered. There were a hundred different courts with a hundred different little ‘Lord Rulers’ in the empire, each region having its own political dynamic.”
Vin turned back to the stage front. Cett sat in his chair, having yet to speak. Finally, Lord Penrod stood. “This is most unexpected, Lord Cett.”
“Good!” Cett said. “That was, after all, the point!”
“Do you wish to address the Assembly?”
“I thought I already was.”
Penrod cleared his throat, and Vin’s tin-enhanced ears heard a disparaging mutter from the noblemen’s section regarding “Western noblemen.”
“You have ten minutes, Lord Cett,” Penrod said, sitting.
“Good,” Cett said. “Because—unlike the boy over there—I intend to tell you exactly
why
you should make me king.”
“And that is?” one of the merchant Assemblymen asked.
“Because I’ve got an army on your damn doorstep!” Cett said with a laugh.
The Assembly looked taken aback.
“A threat, Cett?” Elend asked calmly.
“No, Venture,” Cett replied. “Just honesty—something you Central noblemen seem to avoid at all cost. A threat is only a promise turned around. What was it you told these people? That your mistress had her knife at Straff’s throat? So, were you implying that if you
weren’t
elected, you’d have your Mistborn withdraw, and let the city be destroyed?”
Elend flushed. “Of course not.”
“Of course not,” Cett repeated. He had a loud voice—unapologetic, forceful. “Well, I don’t pretend, and I don’t hide. My army is here, and my intention is to take this city. However, I’d much rather that you just give it to me.”
“You, sir, are a tyrant,” Penrod said flatly.
“So?” Cett asked. “I’m a tyrant with forty thousand soldiers. That’s
twice
what you’ve got guarding these walls.”
“What’s to stop us from simply taking you hostage?” asked one of the other noblemen. “You seem to have delivered yourself to us quite neatly.”
Cett bellowed a laugh. “If I don’t return to my camp this evening, my army has orders to attack and raze the city immediately—no matter what! They’ll probably get destroyed by Venture afterward—but it won’t matter to me, or to you, at that point! We’ll all be dead.”
The room fell silent.
“See, Venture?” Cett asked. “Threats work wonderfully.”
“You honestly expect us to make you our king?” Elend asked.
“Actually, I do,” Cett said. “Look, with your twenty thousand added to my forty, we could easily hold these walls against Straff—we could even stop that army of koloss.”
Whispers began immediately, and Cett raised a bushy eyebrow, turning to Elend. “You didn’t tell them about the koloss, did you?”
Elend didn’t respond.
“Well, they’ll know soon enough,” Cett said. “Regardless, I don’t see that you have any other option but to elect me.”
“You’re not an honorable man,” Elend said simply. “The people expect more from their leaders.”
“I’m not an honorable man?” Cett asked with amusement. “And you
are
? Let me ask you a direct question, Venture. During the proceedings of this meeting, have any of your Allomancers over there been Soothing members of the Assembly?”
Elend paused. His eyes glanced to the side, finding Breeze. Vin closed her eyes.
No, Elend, don’t—
“Yes, they have,” Elend admitted.
Vin heard Tindwyl groan quietly.
“And,” Cett continued, “can you honestly say that you’ve never doubted yourself? Never wondered if you were a good king?”
“I think every leader wonders these things,” Elend said.
“Well, I haven’t,” Cett said. “I’ve always known I was meant to be in charge—and I’ve always done the best job of making certain that I stayed in power. I know how to make myself strong, and that means I know how to make those who associate with me strong as well.
“Here’s the deal. You give me the crown, and I’ll take charge here. You all get to keep your titles—and those of the Assembly who don’t have titles will
get
them. In addition, you’ll get to keep your heads—which is a far better deal than Straff would offer, I assure you.
“The people get to keep working, and I’ll make certain that they’re fed this winter. Everything goes back to normal, the way it was before this insanity began a year back. The skaa work, the nobility administrates.”
“You think they’d go back to that?” Elend asked. “After all we fought for, you think I will simply let you force the people back into slavery?”
Cett smiled beneath his large beard. “I wasn’t under the impression that the decision was yours, Elend Venture.”
Elend fell silent.
“I want to meet with each of you,” Cett said to the Assemblymen. “If you’ll allow, I wish to move into Luthadel with some of my men. Say, a force of five thousand—enough to make me feel safe, but not to be of any real danger to you. I’ll take up residence in one of the abandoned keeps, and wait until your decision next week. During that time, I’ll meet with each of you in turn and explain the…benefits that would come from choosing me as your king.”
“Bribes,” Elend spat.
“Of course,” Cett said. “Bribes for all of the people of this city—the foremost bribe being that of peace! You’re so fond of name-calling, Venture. ‘Slaves,’ ‘threats,’ ‘honorable.’ ‘Bribe’ is just a word. Looked at another way, a bribe is just a promise, turned on
its
head.” Cett smiled.
The group of Assemblymen was silent. “Shall we vote, then, on whether to let him enter the city?” Penrod asked.
“Five thousand is way too many,” one of the skaa Assemblymen said.
“Agreed,” Elend said. “There’s no way we can let that many foreign troops into Luthadel.”
“I don’t like it at all,” another said.
“What?” said Philen. “A monarch inside our city will be less dangerous than one outside, wouldn’t you say? And besides, Cett has promised us all titles.”
This gave the group something to think about.
“Why not just give me the crown now?” Cett said. “Open your gates to my army.”
“You can’t,” Elend said immediately. “Not until there is a king—or unless you can get a unanimous vote right now.”
Vin smiled. Unanimous wouldn’t happen in that case as long as Elend was on the Assembly.
“Bah,” Cett said, but he obviously was smooth enough not to insult the legislative body further. “Let me take up residence in the city, then.”
Penrod nodded. “All in favor of allowing Lord Cett to take up residence inside with…say…a thousand troops?”
A full nineteen of the Assemblymen raised their hands. Elend was not one of them.
“It is done, then,” Penrod said. “We adjourn for two weeks.”
This can’t be happening,
Elend thought.
I thought maybe Penrod would provide a challenge, Philen a lesser one. But…one of the very tyrants who is threatening the city? How could they? How could they even consider his suggestion?
Elend stood, catching Penrod’s arm as he turned to walk off the dais. “Ferson,” Elend said quietly, “this is insanity.”
“We have to consider the option, Elend.”
“Consider selling out the people of this city to a tyrant?”
Penrod’s face grew cold, and he shook Elend’s arm free. “Listen, lad,” he said quietly. “You are a good man, but you’ve always been an idealist. You’ve spent time in books and philosophy—I’ve spent my life fighting politics with the members of the court. You know theories; I know people.”
He turned, nodding to the audience. “Look at them, lad. They’re
terrified
. What good do your dreams do them when they’re starving? You talk of freedom and justice when two armies are preparing to slaughter their families.”
Penrod turned back to Elend, staring him in the eyes. “The Lord Ruler’s system wasn’t perfect, but it kept these people safe. We don’t even have that anymore. Your ideals can’t face down armies. Cett might be a tyrant, but given the choice between him and Straff, I’d have to choose Cett. We’d probably have given him the city weeks ago, if you hadn’t stopped us.”
Penrod nodded to Elend, then turned and joined a few of the noblemen who were leaving. Elend stood quietly for a moment.
We have seen a curious phenomenon associated with rebel groups that break off of the Final Empire and attempt to seek autonomy,
he thought, recalling a passage from Ytves’s book
Studies in Revolution. In almost all cases, the Lord Ruler didn’t need to send his armies to reconquer the rebels. By the time his agents arrived, the groups had overthrown themselves.
It seems that the rebels found the chaos of transition more difficult to accept than the tyranny they had known before. They joyfully welcomed back authority—even oppressive authority—for it was less painful for them than uncertainty.
Vin and the others joined him on the stage, and he put his arm around her shoulders, standing quietly as he watched people trail from the building. Cett sat surrounded by a small group of Assemblymen, arranging meetings with them.
“Well,” Vin said quietly. “We know
he’s
Mistborn.”
Elend turned toward her. “You sensed Allomancy from him?”
Vin shook her head. “No.”
“Then, how do you know?” Elend asked.
“Well, look at him,” Vin said with a wave of her hand. “He acts like he can’t walk—that
has
to be covering up something. What would be more innocent than a cripple? Can you think of a better way to hide the fact that you’re a Mistborn?”
“Vin, my dear,” Breeze said, “Cett has been crippled since childhood, when a disease rendered his legs useless. He’s not Mistborn.”
Vin raised an eyebrow. “That has to be one of the best cover stories I’ve ever heard.”
Breeze rolled his eyes, but Elend just smiled.
“What now, Elend?” Ham asked. “We obviously can’t deal with things the same way now that Cett has entered the city.”
Elend nodded. “We have to plan. Let’s…” He trailed off as a young man left Cett’s group, walking toward Elend. It was the same man who had been sitting next to Cett.
“Cett’s son,” Breeze whispered. “Gneorndin.”
“Lord Venture,” Gneorndin said, bowing slightly. He was, perhaps, about Spook’s age. “My father wishes to know when you would like to meet with him.”
Elend raised an eyebrow. “I have no intention of joining the line of Assemblymen waiting upon Cett’s bribes, lad. Tell your father that he and I have nothing to discuss.”
“You don’t?” Gneorndin asked. “And what about my sister? The one you kidnapped?”
Elend frowned. “You know that isn’t true.”
“My father would still like to discuss the event,” Gneorndin said, shooting a hostile glance at Breeze. “Besides, he thinks that a conversation between you two might be in the city’s best interests. You met with Straff in his camp—don’t tell me that you aren’t willing to do the same for Cett inside your own city?”
Elend paused.
Forget your biases,
he told himself.
You need to talk to this man, if only for the information the meeting might provide.
“All right,” Elend said. “I’ll meet with him.”
“Dinner, in one week?” Gneorndin asked.
Elend nodded curtly.