The Mistborn Trilogy (95 page)

“Your Majesty,” Dockson interrupted.

“Hum? Yes?”

“We’ve got a troop of boys and men who have barely a year’s training, and we’re facing not one overwhelming force, but
two
. We can’t win this battle by force.”

“Oh, yes,” Elend said. “Of course. I was just saying that if we
did
have to fight, I have some strategies….”

“If we fight, we lose,” Clubs said. “We’ll probably lose anyway.”

Elend paused for a moment. “Yes, well, I just…”

“Attacking the canal routes is a good idea, though,” Dockson said. “We can do that covertly, perhaps hire some of the bandits in the area to attack supply barges. It probably won’t be enough to send Cett or Straff home, but we could make them more desperate to make alliances with us.”

Breeze nodded. “Cett’s already worried about instability back in his home dominance. We should send him a preliminary messenger, let him know we’re interested in an alliance. That way, as soon as his supply problems begin, he’ll think of us.”

“We could even send him a letter explaining Breeze’s execution,” Dockson said, “as a sign of good faith. That—”

Elend cleared his throat. The others paused.

“I, uh, wasn’t finished yet,” Elend said.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Dockson said.

Elend took a deep breath. “You’re right—we can’t afford to fight those armies. But, I think we need to find a way to get them to fight each other.”

“A pleasant sentiment, my dear man,” Breeze said. “But getting those two to attack one another isn’t as simple as persuading Spook over there to refill my wine.” He turned, holding out his empty cup. Spook paused, then sighed, rising to fetch the wine bottle.

“Well, yes,” Elend said. “But, while there aren’t a lot of books on warfare, there
are
a lot about politics. Breeze, you said the other day that being the weakest party in a three-way stalemate gives us power.”

“Exactly,” Breeze said. “We can tip the battle for either of the two larger sides.”

“Yes,” Elend said, opening a book. “Now that there are three parties involved, it’s not warfare—it’s politics. This is just like a contest between houses. And in house politicking, even the most powerful houses can’t stand without allies. The small houses are weak individually, but they are strong when considered as a group.

“We’re like one of those small houses. If we want to make any gains, we’re going to have to get our enemies to forget about us—or, at least, make them think us inconsequential. If they both assume that they have the better of us—that they can use us to defeat the other army, then turn on us at their leisure—then they’ll leave us alone and concentrate on each other.”

Ham rubbed his chin. “You’re talking about playing both sides, Elend. It’s a dangerous position to put ourselves in.”

Breeze nodded. “We’d have to switch our allegiance to whichever side seems weaker at the moment, keep them snapping at each other. And there’s no guarantee that the winner between the two would be weakened enough for us to defeat.”

“Not to mention our food problems,” Dockson said. “What you propose would take time, Your Majesty. Time during which we’d be under siege, our supplies dwindling. It’s autumn right now. Winter will soon be upon us.”

“It will be tough,” Elend agreed. “And risky. But, I think we can do it. We make them
both
think we’re allied with them, but we hold back our support. We encourage them against one another, and we wear away at their supplies and morale, pushing them into a conflict. When the dust settles, the surviving army might just be weak enough for us to beat.”

Breeze looked thoughtful. “It has style,” he admitted. “And, it does kind of sound fun.”

Dockson smiled. “You only say that because it involves making someone else do our work for us.”

Breeze shrugged. “Manipulation works so well on a personal level, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be an equally viable national policy.”

“That’s actually how most rulership works,” Ham mused. “What is a government but an institutionalized method of making sure somebody
else
does all the work?”

“Uh, the plan?” Elend asked.

“I don’t know, El,” Ham said, getting back on topic. “It sounds like one of Kell’s plans—foolhardy, brave, and a little insane.” He sounded as if he were surprised to hear Elend propose such a measure.

I can be as foolhardy as any man,
Elend thought indignantly, then paused. Did he really want to follow that line of thought?

“We could get ourselves into some serious trouble,” Dockson said. “If either side decides it’s tired of our games…”

“They’ll destroy us,” Elend said. “But…well, gentlemen, you’re gamblers. You can’t tell me that this plan doesn’t appeal to you more than simply bowing before Lord Cett.”

Ham shared a look with Breeze, and they seemed to be considering the idea. Dockson rolled his eyes, but seemed like he was objecting simply out of habit.

No, they didn’t want to take the safe way out. These were the men who had challenged the Lord Ruler, men who had made their livelihood scamming noblemen. In some ways, they were very careful; they could be precise in their attention to detail, cautious in covering their tracks and protecting their interests. But when it came time to gamble for the big prize, they were often willing.

No, not willing. Eager.

Great,
Elend thought.
I’ve filled my inner council with a bunch of thrill-seeking masochists. Even worse, I’ve decided to join them.
But, what else could he do?

“We could at least consider it,” Breeze said. “It does sound exciting.”

“Now, see, I didn’t suggest this because it was exciting, Breeze,” Elend said. “I spent my youth trying to plan how I would make a better city of Luthadel once I became leader of my house. I’m not going to throw away those dreams at the first sign of opposition.”

“What about the Assembly?” Ham said.

“That’s the best part,” Elend said. “They voted in my proposal at the meeting two days back. They can’t open the city gates to any invader until I meet with my father in parlay.”

The crew sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, Ham turned to Elend, shaking his head. “I really don’t know, El. It sounds appealing. We actually discussed a few more daring plans like this while we were waiting for you. But…”

“But what?” Elend asked.

“A plan like this depends a lot on you, my dear man,” Breeze said, sipping his wine. “You’d have to be the one to meet with the kings—the one to persuade them both that we’re on their side. No offense, but you’re new to scamming. It’s difficult to agree to a daring plan that puts a newcomer in as the linchpin member of the team.”

“I can do this,” Elend said. “Really.”

Ham glanced at Breeze, then both glanced at Clubs. The gnarled general shrugged. “If the kid wants to try it, then let him.”

Ham sighed, then looked back. “I guess I agree. As long as you’re up to this, El.”

“I think I am,” Elend said, covering his nervousness. “I just know we can’t give up, not easily. Maybe this won’t work—maybe, after a couple months of being besieged, we’ll just end up giving away the city anyway. However, that gives us a couple of months during which
something
could happen. It’s worth the risk to wait, rather than fold. Wait, and plan.”

“All right, then,” Dockson said. “Give us some time to come up with some ideas and options, Your Majesty. We’ll meet again in a few days to talk about specifics.”

“All right,” Elend said. “Sounds good. Now, if we can move on to other matters, I’d like to mention—”

A knock came at the door. At Elend’s call, Captain Demoux pushed open the door, looking a little embarrassed. “Your Majesty?” he said. “I apologize, but…I think we caught someone listening in on your meeting.”

“What?” Elend said. “Who?”

Demoux turned to the side, waving in a pair of his guards. The woman they led into the room was vaguely familiar to Elend. Tall, like most Terris, she wore a bright-colored, but utilitarian, dress. Her ears were stretched downward, the lobes elongated to accommodate numerous earrings.

“I recognize you,” Elend said. “From the Assembly hall a few days ago. You were watching me.”

The woman didn’t answer. She looked over the room’s occupants, standing stiffly—even haughtily—despite her bound wrists. Elend had never actually met a Terriswoman before; he’d only met stewards, eunuchs trained from birth to work as manservants. For some reason, Elend had expected a Terriswoman to seem a bit more servile.

“She was hiding in the next room over,” Demoux said. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t know how she got past us. We found her listening against the wall, though I doubt she heard anything. I mean, those walls are made of stone.”

Elend met the woman’s eyes. Older—perhaps fifty—she wasn’t beautiful, but neither was she homely. She was sturdy, with a straightforward, rectangular face. Her stare was calm and firm, and it made Elend uncomfortable to hold it for long.

“So, what did you expect to overhear, woman?” Elend asked.

The Terriswoman ignored the comment. She turned to the others, and spoke in a lightly accented voice. “I would speak with the king alone. The rest of you are excused.”

Ham smiled. “Well, at least she’s got nerve.”

Dockson addressed the Terriswoman. “What makes you think that we would leave our king alone with you?”

“His Majesty and I have things to discuss,” the woman said in a businesslike manner, as if oblivious of—or unconcerned about—her status as a prisoner. “You needn’t be worried about his safety; I’m certain that the young Mistborn hiding outside the window will be more than enough to deal with me.”

Elend glanced to the side, toward the small ventilation window beside the more massive stained-glass one. How would the Terriswoman have known that Vin was watching? Her ears would have to be extraordinarily keen. Keen enough, perhaps, to listen in on the meeting through a stone wall?

Elend turned back to the newcomer. “You’re a Keeper.”

She nodded.

“Did Sazed send you?”

“It is because of him that I am here,” she said. “But I was not ‘sent.’”

“Ham, it’s all right,” Elend said slowly. “You can go.”

“Are you sure?” Ham asked, frowning.

“Leave me bound, if you wish,” the woman said.

If she really is a Feruchemist, that won’t be much of a hindrance,
Elend thought.
Of course, if she really is a Feruchemist—a Keeper, like Sazed—I shouldn’t have anything to fear from her. Theoretically.

The others shuffled from the room, their postures indicating what they thought of Elend’s decision. Though they were no longer thieves by profession, Elend suspected that they—like Vin—would always bear the effects of their upbringing.

“We’ll be just outside, El,” Ham—the last one out—said, then pulled the door shut.

The Terriswoman snapped her bonds, and the ropes dropped to the floor.

“Uh, Vin?” Elend said, beginning to wonder about the logic of meeting with this woman. “Perhaps it’s time you came in.”

“She’s not actually there,” the Terriswoman said offhandedly, walking forward. “She left a few minutes ago to do her rounds. That is why I let myself be caught.”

“Um, I see,” Elend said. “I’ll be calling for the guards now.”

“Don’t be a fool,” the Terriswoman said. “If I wanted to kill you, I could do it before the others got back in. Now be quiet for a moment.”

Elend stood uncomfortably as the tall woman walked around the table in a slow circle, studying him as a merchant might inspect a piece of furniture up for auction. Finally she stopped, placing her hands on her hips.

“Stand up straight,” she commanded.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re slouching,” the woman said. “A king must maintain an air of dignity at all times, even when with his friends.”

Elend frowned. “Now, while I appreciate advice, I don’t—”

“No,” the woman said. “Don’t hedge. Command.”

“Excuse me?” Elend said again.

The woman stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing his back firmly to improve his posture. She stepped back, then nodded slightly to herself.

“Now, see,” Elend said. “I don’t—”

“No,” the woman interrupted. “You must be stronger in the way that you speak. Presentation—words, actions, postures—will determine how people judge you and react to you. If you start every sentence with softness and uncertainty, you will seem soft and uncertain. Be forceful!”

“What is going on here?” Elend demanded, exasperated.

“There,” the woman said. “Finally.”

“You said that you know Sazed?” Elend asked, resisting the urge to slouch back into his earlier posture.

“He is an acquaintance,” the woman said. “My name is Tindwyl; I am, as you have guessed, a Keeper of Terris.” She tapped her foot for a moment, then shook her head. “Sazed warned me about your slovenly appearance, but I honestly assumed that no king could have such a poor sense of self-presentation.”

“Slovenly?” Elend asked. “Excuse me?”

“Stop saying that,” Tindwyl snapped. “Don’t ask questions; say what you mean. If you object, object—don’t leave your words up to my interpretation.”

“Yes, well, while this is fascinating,” Elend said, walking toward the door, “I’d rather avoid further insults this evening. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Your people think you are a fool, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said quietly.

Elend paused.

“The Assembly—a body you yourself organized—ignores your authority. The skaa are convinced that you won’t be able to protect them. Even your own council of friends makes their plans in your absence, assuming your input to be no great loss.”

Elend closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath.

“You have good ideas, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said. “Regal ideas. However, you are not a king. A man can only lead when others accept him as their leader, and he has only as much authority as his subjects give to him. All of the brilliant ideas in the world cannot save your kingdom if no one will listen to them.”

Elend turned. “This last year I’ve read every pertinent book on leadership and governance in the four libraries.”

Tindwyl raised an eyebrow. “Then, I suspect that you spent a great deal of time in your room that you
should
have been out, being seen by your people and learning to be a ruler.”

“Books have great value,” Elend said.

“Actions have greater value.”

“And where am I to learn the proper actions?”

“From me.”

Elend paused.

“You may know that every Keeper has an area of special interest,” Tindwyl said. “While we all memorize the same store of information, one person can only study and understand a limited amount of that store. Our mutual friend Sazed spends his time on religions.”

“And your specialty?”

“Biographies,” she said. “I have studied the lives of generals, kings, and emperors whose names you have never heard. Understanding theories of politics and leadership, Elend Venture, is not the same as understanding the lives of men who lived such principles.”

“And…you can teach me to emulate those men?”

“Perhaps,” Tindwyl said. “I haven’t yet decided whether or not you’re a hopeless case. But, I am here, so I will do what I can. A few months ago, I received a letter from Sazed, explaining your predicament. He did not ask me to come to train you—but, then, Sazed is perhaps another man who could learn to be more forceful.”

Elend nodded slowly, meeting the Terriswoman’s eyes.

“Will you accept my instruction, then?” she asked.

Elend thought for a moment.
If she’s anywhere near as useful as Sazed, then…well, I could certainly use some help at this.
“I will,” he said.

Tindwyl nodded. “Sazed also mentioned your humility. It could be an asset—assuming you don’t let it get in the way. Now, I believe that your Mistborn has returned.”

Elend turned toward the side window. The shutter swung open, allowing mist to begin streaming into the room and revealing a crouching, cloaked form.

“How did you know I was here?” Vin asked quietly.

Tindwyl smiled—the first such expression Elend had seen on her face. “Sazed mentioned you as well, child. You and I should speak soon in private, I think.”

Vin slipped into the room, drawing mist in behind her, then closed the shutter. She didn’t bother to hide her hostility or mistrust as she put herself between Elend and Tindwyl.

“Why are you here?” Vin demanded.

Tindwyl smiled again. “It took your king there several minutes to get to that question, and here you ask it after a few bare moments. You are an interesting couple, I think.”

Vin’s eyes narrowed.

“Regardless, I should withdraw,” Tindwyl said. “We shall speak again, I assume, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, of course,” Elend said. “Um…is there anything I should begin practicing?”

“Yes,” Tindwyl said, walking to the door. “Stop saying ‘um.’”

“Right.”

Ham poked his head in the door as soon as Tindwyl opened it. He immediately noticed her discarded bonds. He didn’t say anything, however; he likely assumed that Elend had freed her.

“I think we’re done for the night, everyone,” Elend said. “Ham, would you see that Mistress Tindwyl is given quarters in the palace? She’s a friend of Sazed’s.”

Ham shrugged. “All right, then.” He nodded to Vin, then withdrew. Tindwyl did not bid them good night as she left.

Vin frowned, then glanced at Elend. He seemed…distracted. “I don’t like her,” she said.

Elend smiled, stacking up the books on his table. “You don’t like anyone when you first meet them, Vin.”

“I liked you.”

“Thereby demonstrating that you are a terrible judge of character.”

Vin paused, then smiled. She walked over and began picking through the books. They weren’t typical Elend fare—far more practical than the kinds of things he usually read. “How did it go tonight?” she asked. “I didn’t have much time to listen.”

Elend sighed. He turned, sitting down on the table, looking up at the massive rose window at the back of the room. It was dark, its colors only hinted as reflections in the black glass. “It went well, I suppose.”

“I told you they’d like your plan. It’s the sort of thing they’ll find challenging.”

“I suppose,” Elend said.

Vin frowned. “All right,” she said, hopping up to stand on the table. She sat down beside him. “What is it? Is it something that woman said? What did she want, anyway?”

“Just to pass on some knowledge,” he said. “You know how Keepers are, always wanting an ear to listen to their lessons.”

“I suppose,” Vin said slowly. She hadn’t ever seen Elend depressed, but he did get discouraged. He had so many ideas, so many plans and hopes, that she sometimes wondered how he kept them all straight. She would have said that he lacked focus; Reen had always said that focus kept a thief alive. Elend’s dreams, however, were so much a part of who he was. She doubted he could discard them. She didn’t think she would want him to, for they were part of what she loved about him.

“They agreed to the plan, Vin,” Elend said, still looking up at the window. “They even seemed excited, like you said they’d be. It’s just…I can’t help thinking that their suggestion was far more rational than mine. They wanted to side with one of the armies, giving it our support in exchange for leaving me as a subjugated ruler in Luthadel.”

“That would be giving up,” Vin said.

“Sometimes, giving up is better than failing. I just committed my city to an extended siege. That will mean hunger, perhaps starvation, before this is over with.”

Vin put a hand on his shoulder, watching him uncertainly. Usually, he was the one who reassured her. “It’s still a better way,” she said. “The others probably just suggested a weaker plan because they thought you wouldn’t go along with something more daring.”

“No,” Elend said. “They weren’t pandering to me, Vin. They really thought that making a strategic alliance was a good, safe plan.” He paused, then looked at her. “Since when did
that
group represent the reasonable side of my government?”

“They’ve had to grow,” Vin said. “They can’t be the men they once were, not with this much responsibility.”

Elend turned back toward the window. “I’ll tell you what worries me, Vin. I’m worried that their plan
wasn’t
reasonable—perhaps it itself was a bit foolhardy. Perhaps making an alliance would have been a difficult enough task. If that’s the case, then what
I’m
proposing is just downright ludicrous.”

Vin squeezed his shoulder. “We fought the Lord Ruler.”

“You had Kelsier then.”

“Not
that
again.”

“I’m sorry,” Elend said. “But, really, Vin. Maybe my plan to try and hold on to the government is just arrogance. What was it you told me about your childhood? When you were in the thieving crews, and everyone was bigger, stronger, and meaner than you, what did you do? Did you stand up to the leaders?”

Memories flashed in her mind. Memories of hiding, of keeping her eyes down, of weakness.

“That was then,” she said. “You can’t let others beat on you forever. That’s what Kelsier taught me—that’s why we fought the Lord Ruler. That’s why the skaa rebellion fought the Final Empire all those years, even when there was no chance of winning. Reen taught me that the rebels were fools. But Reen is dead now—and so is the Final Empire. And…”

She leaned down, catching Elend’s eyes. “You can’t give up the city, Elend,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I’d like what that would do to you.”

Elend paused, then smiled slowly. “You can be very wise sometimes, Vin.”

“You think that?”

He nodded.

“Well,” she said, “then obviously you’re as poor a judge of character as I am.”

Elend laughed, putting his arm around her, hugging her against his side. “So, I assume the patrol tonight was uneventful?”

The mist spirit. Her fall. The chill she could still feel—if only faintly remembered—in her forearm. “It was,” she said. The last time she’d told him of the mist spirit, he’d immediately thought she’d been seeing things.

“See,” Elend said, “you should have come to the meeting; I would have liked to have had you here.”

She said nothing.

They sat for a few minutes, looking up at the dark window. There was an odd beauty to it; the colors weren’t visible because of the lack of back light, and she could instead focus on the patterns of glass. Chips, slivers, slices, and plates woven together within a framework of metal.

“Elend?” she finally said. “I’m worried.”

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t,” he said. “Those armies have
me
so worried that I can barely think straight.”

“No,” Vin said. “Not about that. I’m worried about other things.”

“Like what?”

“Well…I’ve been thinking about what the Lord Ruler said, right before I killed him. Do you remember?”

Elend nodded. He hadn’t been there, but she’d told him.

“He talked about what he’d done for mankind,” Vin said. “He saved us, the stories say. From the Deepness.”

Elend nodded.

“But,” Vin said, “what
was
the Deepness? You were a nobleman—religion wasn’t forbidden to you. What did the Ministry teach about the Deepness and the Lord Ruler?”

Elend shrugged. “Not much, really. Religion wasn’t forbidden, but it wasn’t encouraged either. There was something proprietary about the Ministry, an air that implied they would take care of religious things—that we didn’t need to worry ourselves.”

“But they did teach you about some things, right?”

Elend nodded. “Mostly, they talked about why the nobility were privileged and the skaa cursed. I guess they wanted us to understand how fortunate we were—though honestly, I always found the teachings a little disturbing. See, they claimed that we were noble because our ancestors supported the Lord Ruler before the Ascension. But, that means that we were privileged because of what other people had done. Not really fair, eh?”

Vin shrugged. “Fair as anything else, I guess.”

“But, didn’t you get angry?” Elend said. “Didn’t it frustrate you that the nobility had so much while you had so little?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Vin said. “The nobility had a lot, so we could take it from them. Why should I care how they got it? Sometimes, when I had food, other thieves beat me and took it. What did it matter how I got my food? It was still taken from me.”

Elend paused. “You know, sometimes I wonder what the political theorists I’ve read would say if they met you. I have a feeling they’d throw up their hands in frustration.”

She poked him in the side. “Enough politics. Tell me about the Deepness.”