"We are not beasts, Sarene." Ahan warned. "Some lords treat their peasants poorly, but we would never accept such into our fellowship. The people on our lands have food to eat and clothing to keep them warm."
"That may be true, my lord," Sarene continued, "but the people must feel that you love them. Do not trade them to other nobles or squabble over them. Let the peasants know that you care, and they will give you their hearts and their sweat. Prosperity need not be limited to a small percentage of the population."
Sarene reached her seat and stood behind it. The lords were thinking-that was good-but they were scared as well.
"It will be risky." Shuden ventured.
"As risky as attacking Iadon with Lord Eondel's army?" Sarene asked. "If this
doesn't work, you lose a bit of money and some pride. If the honorable general's plan doesn't work, you lose your heads."
"She has a point," Ahan agreed.
"A good one," Eondel said. There was relief in his eyes: soldier or not, he didn't want to attack his countrymen. "I will do it."
"That's easy for you to say, Eondel." Edan said, wiggling in his seat. "You can always just order your legion to work on the farms when the peasants turn lazy."
"My men are policing our country's highways, Lord Edan." Eondel huffed. "Their service there is invaluable.'
"And you are handsomely rewarded for it," Edan spar. "I have no income but that of my farms-and while my lands look big, I've got that blasted crack running right through the center of them. I don't have any room for laziness. If my potatoes don't get planted, weeded, and harvested, then I will lose my title."
"You'll probably lose it anyway," Ahan said with a helpful smile.
"Enough, Ahan," Roial ordered. "Edan has a point. How can we be certain the peasants will produce more if we give them so much liberty?"
Edan nodded. "I have found the Arelish peasantry to be a lazy, unproductive lot. The only way I can get enough work out of them is by force."
"They aren't lazy, my lord," Sarene said. "They are angry. Ten years is not so long a time, and these people can remember what it is to be their own masters. Give them the promise of autonomy, and they will work hard to achieve it. You will be surprised how much more profitable an independent man is than a slave who thinks of nothing more than his next meal. After all, which situation would make you more likely to be productive?"
The nobles mused over her words.
"Much of what you say makes sense," Shuden noted.
"But, Lady Sarene's evidence is vague," Roial said. "Times were different before the Reod. The Elantrians provided food, and the land could survive without a peasant class. We no longer have that luxury."
"Then help me find evidence, my lord," Sarene said. "Give me a few months and we will create our own proof."
"We will… consider your words." Roial said.
"No, Lord Roial, you will make a decision," Sarene said. "Beneath everything else, I believe that you are a patriot. You know what is right, and this is it. Don't tell me you've never felt any guilt for what you have done to this country."
Sarene regarded Roial anxiously. The elderly duke had impressed her, but there was no way for her to be sure he felt ashamed for Arelon. She had to depend on her impression that his heart was good, and that in his long life he had seen and understood how far his country had fallen. The collapse of Elantris had been a catalyst, but the greed of the nobility had been the true destroyer of this once grand nation.
"We have all been blinded at one rime or another by Iadon's promises of weaIth," Shuden said with his soft, wise voice. "I will do as Her Highness asks." Then the brown-skinned man turned his eyes on Roial and nodded. His acceptance had given the duke an opportunity to agree without losing too much face.
"All right," the elderly duke said with a sigh. "You are a wise man, Lord Shuden. If you find merit in this plan, then I will follow it as well."
"I suppose we have no choice," Edan said.
"It's better than waiting, Lord EdIan." Eondel noted.
"True. I agree as well."
"That leaves me," Ahan said with a sudden realization. "Oh, my. What shall I do?"
"Lord Roial agreed only grudgingly, my lord," Sarene said. "Don't tell me you are going to do the same?"
Ahan bellowed a laugh, his entire frame shaking. "What a delightful girl you are! Well, then, I guess I have to accept wholeheartedly. with the admonition chat I knew she was right all along. Now, Kiin, please tell me you haven't forgotten dessert. I've heard such lovely things about your confections."
"Forget dessert?" her uncle rasped. "Ahan, you wound me." He smiled as he rose from his chair and moved toward the kitchen.
"SHE is good at this, Kiin-perhaps better than I am." It was Duke Roial's voice. Sarene froze: she had gone looking for the washroom after bidding everyone farewell, and had expected them to be gone by now.
"She is a very special young woman," Kiin agreed. Their voices were coming from the kitchen. Silently. Sarene slipped forward and listened outside the door.
"She neatly slipped control away from me, and I still don't know where I went wrong. You should have warned me."
"And let you escape, Roial?" Kiin said with a laugh. "It's been a long time since anyone, including Ahan, got the better of you. It does a man good to realize he can still be taken by surprise once in a while.'
"She nearly lost it near the end there, though," Roial said. "I don't like being backed into corners, Kiin."
"It was a calculated risk, my lord," Sarene said, pushing open the door and strolling in.
Her appearance didn't give the duke even a moment's pause. "You all but threatened me. Sarene. That is no way to make an ally-especially of a crotchety old man such as myself." The duke and Kiin were sharing a bottle of Fjordell wine at the kitchen table. and their manner was even more relaxed than the dinner had been. "A few days wouldn't have hurt our position, and I certainly would have
given you my support. I've found that thoughtful, well-considered commitment is much more productive than spurious professions."
Sarene nodded. slipping a glass from one of Kiin's shelves and pouring herself some wine before sitting. "I understand. Roial." If he could drop formalities, then so could she. "But the others look to you. They trust your judgment. I needed more than your support-which, by the way, I know you would have given-I needed your open support. The others had to see you accept the plan before they would agree. It wouldn't have had the same impact a few days later."
"Perhaps," Roial said. "One thing is certain. Sarene-you give us hope again. Raoden was our unity before: now you will take his place. Kiin or I couldn't do it. Kiin has refused nobility for too long-no matter what they say, the people still want a leader with a title. And me… they all know that I helped Iadon start this monstrosity that has slowly killed our country."
"That was long ago. Roial," Kiin said clasping the elderly duke on the shoulder.
"No," Roial said with a shake of his head. "As the fair princess said. ten years isn't long in the life span of nations. I am guilty of a grave mistake."
"We will make it right, Roial," Kiin said. "This plan is a good one-perhaps even better than Raoden's."
Roial smiled. "She would have made him a fine wife. Kiin."
Kiin nodded. "Fine indeed-and an even better queen. Domi moves in ways that are sometimes strange to our mortal minds."
"I'm not convinced it was Domi's will that took him from us, Uncle," Sarene said over her wine. "Have either of you ever wondered if. perhaps, someone might have been behind the prince's death?"
"The answer to that question borders on treason, Sarene," Kiin warned. "Any more than the other things we have said tonight?"
"We were only accusing the king of greed, Sarene," Roial said. "The murder of his own son is another matter entirely."
"Think about it, though," Sarene said, waving her hand in a wide gesture. and nearly spilling her wine. "The prince took a contrary stance on everything his father di
d-he ridiculed Iadon in court, he planned behind the king's back, and he had the love of the people. Most importantly. everything he said about Iadon was true. Is that the kind of person a monarch can afford to have running free?"
"Yes. but his own son?" Roial said with a disbelieving shake of his head.
"It wouldn't be the first time such a thing has happened," Kiin said.
"True," Roial said. "But, I don't know if the prince was as much of a problem to Iadon as you assume. Raoden wasn't so much rebellious as he was critical. He never said that Iadon shouldn't be king, he simply claimed that Arelon's government was in trouble-which it is."
'Weren't either of you even a little suspicious when you heard the prince was dead?" Sarene asked, contemplatively sipping her wine. "It came at such a convenient time. Iadon has the benefit of an alliance with Teod, but now he doesn't have to worry about Raoden producing any heirs."
Roial looked at Kiin, who shrugged. "I think we have to at least consider the possibility, Roial."
Roial nodded regretfully. "So what do we do? Try and find proof that Iadon executed his son?"
"Knowledge will bring strength." Sarene said simply.
"Agreed," Kiin said. "You, however, are the only one of us with free access to the palace."
"I'll poke around and see what I can uncover."
"Is it possible he isn't dead?" Roial asked. 'It would have been easy enough to find a look-alike for the casket-the coughing shivers is a very disfiguring disease." "It's possible," Sarene said doubtfully.
"But you don't believe it."
Sarene shook her head. "When a monarch decides to destroy a rival, he usually makes sure to do so in a permanent way. There are too many stories about lost heirs that reappear after twenty years in the wilderness to claim their rightful throne."
"Still, perhaps Iadon isn't as brutal as you assume," Roial said. "He was a better man, once-never what I would call a good man, but not a bad one either. Just greedy. Something's happened to him over the last few years, something that has… changed him. Still, I think there remains enough compassion in Iadon to keep him from murdering his own son."
"All right," Sarene said. "I'll send Ashe to search through the royal dungeons. He's so meticulous he'll know the name of every rat in the place before he's satisfied." "Your Seon?" Roial realized. "Where is he?"
"I sent him to Elantris."
"Elantris?" Kiin asked.
"That Fjordell gyorn is interested in Elantris for some reason." Sarene ex-
plained. "And I make it my business never to ignore what a gyorn finds interesting." "You seem to be rather preoccupied with a single priest, 'Ene," Kiin said. "Not a priest, Uncle." Sarene corrected. "A full gyorn."
"Still only one man. How much damage can he do?"
"Ask the Duladen Republic," Sarene said. "I think this is the same gyorn who was involved in that disaster."
"There's no sure evidence that Fjorden was behind the collapse," Roial noted. "There is in Teod, but no one else would believe it. Just believe me when I tell you that this single gyorn could be more dangerous than Iadon."
The comment struck a lull in the conversation. Time passed silently, the three
nobles drinking their wine in thought until Lukel entered, having traveled to retrieve his mother and siblings. He nodded to Sarene and bowed to the duke before pouring himself a cup of wine.
"Look at you," Lukel said to Sarene as he took a seat. "A confident member of the boys' club."
"Leader of it. more truthfully." Roial noted.
"Your mother?" Kiin asked.
"Is on her way," Lukel said. "They weren't finished, and you know how Mother is. Everything must be done in its proper order; no rushing allowed."
Kiin nodded. downing the last of his wine. "Then you and I should get to cleaning before she returns. We wouldn't want her to see what a mess our collected noble friends have made of the dining room."
Lukel sighed. giving Sarene a look that suggested he sometimes wished he lived in a traditional household-one with servants, or at least women, to do such things. Kiln was already moving, however, and his son had no choice but to follow.
"Interesting family," Roial said, watching them go.
"Yes. A little odd even by Teoish standards."
"Kiin had a long life on his own." the duke observed. "It accustomed him to doing things by himself. He once hired a cook, I hear, but grew frustrated with the woman's methods. I seem to recall that she quit before he had the heart to fire her-she claimed she couldn't work in such a demanding environment."
Sarene laughed. "That sounds appropriate."
Roial smiled, but continued in a more serious tone. "Sarene, we are indeed fortunate. You might very well be our last chance for saving Arelon." "Thank you, Your Grace," Sarene said, flushing despite herself.
"This country will not last much longer. A few months, maybe, a half a year if we are lucky."
Sarene's brow furled. "But, I thought you wanted to wait. At least, that's what you told the others."
Roial made a dismissive gesture. "I'd convinced myself that little could be gained by their aid-Edan and Ahan are too contrary, and Shuden and Eondel are both too inexperienced. I wanted to mollify them while Kiin and I decided what to do. I fear our plans may have centered around more… dangerous methods.
"Now, however, there is another chance. If your plan works-though I'm still not convinced that it will-we might be able to forestall collapse for a little longer. I'm not sure: ten years of Iadon's rule has built momentum. It will be difficult to change it in only a few months' time."
"I think we can do it. Roial," Sarene said.
"Just make sure you don't get ahead of yourself, young lady." Roial said, eyeing her. "Do not dash if you only have the strength to walk, and do not waste your time pushing on walls that will not give. More importantly, don't shove where a
pat would be sufficient. You backed me into a corner today. I'm still a prideful old man. If Shuden hadn't saved me, I honestly can't say if I would have been humble enough to acknowledge fault in front of all those men."
"I'm sorry," Sarene said, now blushing for another reason. There was something about this powerful, yet grandfatherly, old duke that made her suddenly desperate to have his respect.
"Just be careful," Roial said. "If this gyorn is as dangerous as you claim, then there are some very powerful forces moving through Kae. Do not let Arelon get crushed between them."
Sarene nodded, and the duke leaned back. pouring the last of the wine into his cup.
CHAPTER 12
Early in his career, Hrathen had found it difficult to accept other languages. Fjordell was Jaddeth's own chosen tongue-it was holy, while other languages were profane. How, then. did one convert those who didn't speak Fjordell? Did one speak to them in their own Ianguage. or did one force all true supplicants to study Fjordell first? It seemed foolish to require an entire nation to learn a new language before allowing them to hear of Jaddeth's empire.
So, when forced to make the decision between profanity and infinite delay, Hrathen chose profanity. He had learned to speak Aonic and Duladen, and had even picked up a little Jindoeese. When he taught. he taught the people in their own tongue-though, admittedly, it still bothered him to do so. What if they never learned? What if his actions made people think that they didn't need Fjordell, since they could learn of Jaddeth in their mother language?
These thoughts, and many like them, passed through Hrathen's mind as he preached to the people of Kae. It wasn't that he lacked focus or dedication; he had simply given the same speeches so many times that they had become rote. He spoke almost unconsciously, raising and lowering his voice to the rhythm of the sermon, performing the ancient art that was a hybrid offspring of prayer and theater.
When he urged. they responded with cheers. When he condemned, they looked at one another with shame. When he raised his voice. they focused their at-tendon, and when he lowered it to a bare whisper, they were even more captivated. It wa
s as if he controlled the ocean waves themselves, emotion surging through the crowd like froth-covered tides.
He finished with a stunning admonition to serve in Jaddeth's kingdom, to swear themselves as odiv or krondet to one of the priests in Kae, thereby becoming part of the chain that linked them directly to Lord Jaddeth. The common people served the arteths and dorven, the arteths and dorven served the gradors, the gradors served the ragnats, the ragnats served the gyorns, the gyorns served Wyrn, and Wyrn served Jaddeth. Only the gragdets-leaders of the monasteries-weren't directly in the line. It was a superbly organized system. Everyone knew whom he or she had to serve: most didn't need to worry about the commands of Jaddeth, which were often above their understanding. All they had to do was follow their arteth, serve him as best they could, and Jaddeth would be pleased with them.
Hrathen stepped down from the podium, satisfied. He had only been preaching in Kae for a few days. but the chapel was already so packed that people had to line up at the back once the seats were full. Only a few of the newcomers were actually interested in converting; most came because Hrathen himself was a novelty. However. they would return. They could tell themselves that they were only curious-that their interest had nothing to do with religion-but they would return.
As Shu-Dereth grew more popular in Kae, the people at these first meetings would find themselves important by association. They would brag that they had discovered Shu-Dereth long before their neighbors. and as a consequence they would have to continue attending. Their pride, mixed with Hrathen's powerful sermons. would override doubts. and soon they would find themselves swearing servitude to one of the arteths.
Hrathen would have to call a new head arteth soon. He'd put off the decision for a time, waiting to see how the priests remaining in the chapel dealt with their tasks. Time was growing slim, however, and soon the local membership would be too great for Hrathen to track and organize by himself. especially considering all of the planning and preaching he had to do.
The people at the back were beginning to file out of the chapel. However, a sudden sound stopped them. Hrathen looked up at the podium with surprise. The meeting was to have ended after his sermon, but someone thought differently. Dilaf had decided to speak.
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