The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  “It was for the good of the kingdom,” Elend said.

  “It was sheer idiocy,” Tindwyl snapped. “A king doesn’t subject himself to the whims of another ruling body. He is valuable to his people because he is an absolute authority!”

  Vin had rarely seen Elend so sorrowful, and she cringed a bit at the sadness in his eyes. However, a different piece of her was rebelliously happy. He wasn’t king anymore. Now maybe people wouldn’t work so hard to kill him. Maybe he could just be Elend again, and they could leave. Go somewhere. A place where things weren’t so complicated.

  “Regardless,” Dockson said to the quiet room, “something must be done. Discussing the prudence of decisions already past has little current relevance.”

  “Agreed,” Ham said. “So, the Assembly tried to kick you out. What are we going to do about it?”

  “We obviously can’t let them have their way,” Breeze said. “Why, the people overthrew a government just last year! This is a bad habit to be getting into, I should think.”

  “We need to prepare a response, Your Majesty,” Dockson said. “Something decrying this deceitful maneuver, performed while you were negotiating for the very safety of the city. Now that I look back, it’s obvious that they arranged this meeting so that you couldn’t be present and defend yourself.”

  Elend nodded, still staring up at the dark glass. “There’s probably no need to call me Your Majesty anymore, Dox.”

  “Nonsense,” Tindwyl said, arms folded as she stood beside a bookcase. “You are still king.”

  “I’ve lost the mandate of the people,” Elend said.

  “Yes,” Clubs said, “but you’ve still got the mandate of my armies. That makes you king no matter what the Assembly says.”

  “Exactly,” Tindwyl said. “Foolish laws aside, you’re still in a position of power. We need to tighten martial law, restrict movement within the city. Seize control of key points, and sequester the members of the Assembly so that your enemies can’t raise a resistance against you.”

  “I’ll have my men on the streets before light,” Clubs said.

  “No,” Elend said quietly.

  There was a pause.

  “Your Majesty?” Dockson asked. “It really is the best move. We can’t let this faction against you gain momentum.”

  “It’s not a faction, Dox,” Elend said. “It’s the elected representatives of the Assembly.”

  “An Assembly you formed, my dear man,” Breeze said. “They have power because you gave it to them.”

  “The law gives them their power, Breeze,” Elend said. “And we are all subject to it.”

  “Nonsense,” Tindwyl said. “As king, you are the law. Once we secure the city, you can call in the Assembly and explain to its members that you need their support. Those who disagree can be held until the crisis is over.”

  “No,” Elend said, a little more firm. “We will do none of that.”

  “That’s it, then?” Ham asked. “You’re giving up?”

  “I’m not giving up, Ham,” Elend said, finally turning to regard the group. “But I’m not going to use the city’s armies to pressure the Assembly.”

  “You’ll lose your throne,” Breeze said.

  “See reason, Elend,” Ham said with a nod.

  “I will not be an exception to my own laws!” Elend said.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Tindwyl said. “You should—”

  “Tindwyl,” Elend said, “respond to my ideas as you wish, but do not call me a fool again. I will not be belittled because I express my opinion!”

  Tindwyl paused, mouth partially open. Then she pressed her lips together and took her seat. Vin felt a quiet surge of satisfaction. You trained him, Tindwyl, she thought with a smile. Can you really complain if he stands up to you?

  Elend walked forward, placing his hands on the table as he regarded the group. “Yes, we will respond. Dox, you write a letter informing the Assembly of our disappointment and feelings of betrayal—inform them of our success with Straff, and lay on the guilt as thickly as possible.

  “The rest of us will begin planning. We’ll get the throne back. As has been stated, I know the law. I wrote it. There are ways to deal with this. Those ways do not, however, include sending our armies to secure the city. I will not be like the tyrants who would take Luthadel from us! I will not force the people to do my will, even if I know it is best for them.”

  “Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said carefully, “there is nothing immoral about securing your power during a time of chaos. People react irrationally during such times. That is one of the reasons why they need strong leadership. They need you.”

  “Only if they want me, Tindwyl,” Elend said.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said, “but that statement seems somewhat naive to me.”

  Elend smiled. “Perhaps it is. You can change my clothing and my bearing, but you can’t change the soul of who I am. I’ll do what I think is right—and that includes letting the Assembly depose me, if that is their choice.”

  Tindwyl frowned. “And if you can’t get your throne back through lawful means?”

  “Then I accept that fact,” Elend said. “And do my best to help the kingdom anyway.”

  So much for running away, Vin thought. However, she couldn’t help smiling. Part of what she loved about Elend was his sincerity. His simple love for the people of Luthadel—his determination to do what was right for them—was what separated him from Kelsier. Even in martyrdom, Kelsier had displayed a hint of arrogance. He’d made certain that he would be remembered like few men who had ever lived.

  But Elend—to him, ruling the Central Dominance wasn’t about fame or glory. For the first time, completely and honestly, she decided something. Elend was a far better king than Kelsier would ever have been.

  “I’m…not certain what I think of this experience, Mistress,” a voice whispered beside her. Vin paused, looking down as she realized that she had begun idly scratching OreSeur’s ears.

  She pulled her hand back with a start. “Sorry,” she said.

  OreSeur shrugged, resting his head back on his paws.

  “So, you said there’s a legal way to get the throne back,” Ham said. “How do we go about it?”

  “The Assembly has one month to choose a new king,” Elend said. “Nothing in the law says that the new king can’t be the same as the old one. And, if they can’t come up with a majority decision by that deadline, the throne reverts to me for a minimum of one year.”

  “Complicated,” Ham said, rubbing his chin.

  “What did you expect?” Breeze said. “It’s the law.”

  “I didn’t mean the law itself,” Ham said. “I meant getting the Assembly to either choose Elend or not choose anyone. They wouldn’t have deposed him in the first place unless they had another person in mind for the throne.”

  “Not necessarily,” Dockson said. “Perhaps they simply meant this as a warning.”

  “Perhaps,” Elend said. “Gentlemen, I think this is a sign. I’ve been ignoring the Assembly—we thought that they were taken care of, since I got them to sign that proposal giving me right of parlay. However, we never realized that an easy way for them to get around that proposal was to choose a new king, then have him do as they wished.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “I have to admit, I’ve never been very good at handling the Assembly. They don’t see me as a king, but as a colleague—and because of that, they can easily see themselves taking my place. I’ll bet one of the Assemblymen has convinced the others to put him on the throne instead.”

  “So, we just make him disappear,” Ham said. “I’m sure Vin could…”

  Elend frowned.

  “I’m joking, El,” Ham said.

  “You know, Ham,” Breeze noted. “The only funny thing about your jokes is how often they lack any humor whatsoever.”

  “You’re only saying that because they usually involve you in the punch line.”

  Breeze rolled his eyes.
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  “You know,” OreSeur muttered quietly, obviously counting on her tin to let Vin hear him, “it seems that these meetings would be more productive if someone forgot to invite those two.”

  Vin smiled. “They’re not that bad,” she whispered.

  OreSeur raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay,” Vin said. “They do distract us a little bit.”

  “I could always eat one of them, if you wish,” OreSeur said. “That might speed things up.”

  Vin paused.

  OreSeur, however, had a strange little smile on his lips. “Kandra humor, Mistress. I apologize. We can be a bit grim.”

  Vin smiled. “They probably wouldn’t taste very good anyway. Ham’s far too stringy, and you don’t want to know the kinds of things that Breeze spends his time eating….”

  “I’m not sure,” OreSeur said. “One is, after all, named ‘Ham.’ As for the other…” He nodded to the cup of wine in Breeze’s hand. “He does seem quite fond of marinating himself.”

  Elend was picking through his stacks of books, pulling out several relevant volumes on law—including the book of Luthadel law that he himself had written.

  “Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said, emphasizing the term. “You have two armies on your doorstep, and a group of koloss making their way into the Central Dominance. Do you honestly think that you have time for a protracted legal battle now?”

  Elend set down the books and pulled his chair to the table. “Tindwyl,” he said. “I have two armies on my doorstep, koloss coming to pressure them, and I myself am the main obstacle keeping the leaders of this city from handing the kingdom over to one of the invaders. Do you honestly think that it’s a coincidence that I get deposed now?”

  Several members of the crew perked up at this, and Vin cocked her head.

  “You think one of the invaders might be behind this?” Ham asked, rubbing his chin.

  “What would you do, if you were them?” Elend said, opening a book. “You can’t attack the city, because it will cost you too many troops. The siege has already lasted weeks, your troops are getting cold, and the men Dockson hired have been attacking your canal supply barges, threatening your food supply. Add on top of that, you know that a large force of koloss are marching this way…and, well, it makes sense. If Straff and Cett’s spies are any good, they’ll know that the Assembly just about capitulated and gave the city away when that army first arrived. Assassins have failed to kill me, but if there were another way to remove me…”

  “Yes,” Breeze said. “This does sound like something Cett would do. Turn the Assembly against you, put a sympathizer on the throne, then get him to open the gates.”

  Elend nodded. “And my father seemed hesitant to side with me this evening, as if he felt he had some other way to get the city. I can’t be certain if either monarch is behind this move, Tindwyl, but we certainly can’t ignore the possibility. This isn’t a distraction—this is very much part of the same siege tactics we’ve been fighting since those armies arrived. If I can put myself back on the throne, then Straff and Cett will know that I’m the only one they can work with—and that will, hopefully, make them more likely to side with me in desperation, particularly as those koloss draw near.”

  With that, Elend began riffling through a stack of books. His depression seemed to be abating in face of this new academic problem. “There might be a few other clauses of relevance in the law,” he half mumbled. “I need to do some studying. Spook, did you invite Sazed to this meeting?”

  Spook shrugged. “I couldn’t get him to wake up.”

  “He’s recovering from his trip here,” Tindwyl said, turning away from her study of Elend and his books. “It’s an issue of the Keepers.”

  “Needs to refill one of his metalminds?” Ham asked.

  Tindwyl paused, her expression darkening. “He explained that to you, then?”

  Ham and Breeze nodded.

  “I see,” Tindwyl said. “Regardless, he could not help with this problem, Your Majesty. I give you some small aid in the area of government because it is my duty to train leaders in knowledge of the past. However, traveling Keepers such as Sazed do not take sides in political matters.”

  “Political matters?” Breeze asked lightly. “You mean, perhaps, like overthrowing the Final Empire?”

  Tindwyl closed her mouth, lips growing thin. “You should not encourage him to break his vows,” she finally said. “If you were his friends, you would see that to be true, I think.”

  “Oh?” Breeze asked, pointing at her with his cup of wine. “Personally, I think you’re just embarrassed that he disobeyed you all, but then actually ended up freeing your people.”

  Tindwyl gave Breeze a flat stare, her eyes narrow, her posture stiff. They sat that way for a long moment. “Push on my emotions all you wish, Soother,” Tindwyl said. “My feelings are my own. You will have no success here.”

  Breeze finally turned back to his drink, muttering something about “damn Terrismen.”

  Elend, however, wasn’t paying attention to the argument. He already had four books open on the table before him, and was flipping through a fifth. Vin smiled, remembering the days—not so long ago—when his courtship of her had often involved him plopping himself down in a nearby chair and opening a book.

  He is the same man, she thought. And that soul, that man, is the one who loved me before he knew I was Mistborn. He loved me even after he discovered I was a thief, and thought I was trying to rob him. I need to remember that.

  “Come on,” she whispered to OreSeur, standing as Breeze and Ham got into another argument. She needed time to think, and the mists were still fresh.

  This would be a lot easier if I weren’t so skilled, Elend thought with amusement, poking through his books. I set up the law too well.

  He followed a particular passage with his finger, rereading it as the crew slowly trailed away. He couldn’t remember if he’d dismissed them or not. Tindwyl would probably chastise him for that.

  Here, he thought, tapping the page. I might have grounds to argue for a revote if any of the members of the Assembly arrived late to the meeting, or made their votes in absentia. The vote to depose had to be unanimous—save, of course, for the king being deposed.

  He paused, noticing movement. Tindwyl was the only one still in the room with him. He looked up from his books with resignation. I probably have this coming….

  “I apologize for treating you with disrespect, Your Majesty,” she said.

  Elend frowned. Wasn’t expecting that.

  “I have a habit of treating people like children,” Tindwyl said. “It is not something that I should be proud of, I think.”

  “It’s—” Elend paused. Tindwyl had taught him never to excuse people’s failings. He could accept people with failings—even forgive them—but if he glossed over the problems, then they would never change. “I accept your apology,” he said.

  “You’ve learned quickly, Your Majesty.”

  “I haven’t had much choice,” Elend said with a smile. “Of course, I didn’t change fast enough for the Assembly.”

  “How did you let this happen?” she asked quietly. “Even considering our disagreement over how a government should be run, I should think that these Assemblymen would be supporters of yours. You gave them their power.”

  “I ignored them, Tindwyl. Powerful men, friends or not, never like being ignored.”

  She nodded. “Though, perhaps we should pause to take note of your successes, rather than simply focusing on your failings. Vin tells me that your meeting with your father went well.”

  Elend smiled. “We scared him into submission. It felt very good to do something like that to Straff. But, I think I might have offended Vin somehow.”

  Tindwyl raised an eyebrow.

  Elend set down his book, leaning forward with his arms on the desk. “She was in an odd mood on the way back. I could barely get her to talk to me. I’m not sure what it was.”

  “Perhaps she was just tire
d.”

  “I’m not convinced that Vin gets tired,” Elend said. “She’s always moving, always doing something. Sometimes, I worry that she thinks I’m lazy. Maybe that’s why…” He trailed off, then shook his head.

  “She doesn’t think that you are lazy, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said. “She refused to marry you because she doesn’t think that she is worthy of you.”

  “Nonsense,” Elend said. “Vin’s Mistborn, Tindwyl. She knows she’s worth ten men like me.”

  Tindwyl raised an eyebrow. “You understand very little about women, Elend Venture—especially young women. To them, their competence has a surprisingly small amount to do with how they feel about themselves. Vin is insecure. She doesn’t believe that she deserves to be with you—it is less that she doesn’t think she deserves you personally, and more that she isn’t convinced that she deserves to be happy at all. She has led a very confusing, difficult life.”

  “How sure are you about this?”

  “I’ve raised a number of daughters, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said. “I understand the things of which I speak.”

  “Daughters?” Elend asked. “You have children?”

  “Of course.”

  “I just…” The Terrismen he’d known were eunuchs, like Sazed. The same couldn’t be true for a woman like Tindwyl, of course, but he’d assumed that the Lord Ruler’s breeding programs would have affected her somehow.

  “Regardless,” Tindwyl said curtly, “you must make some decisions, Your Majesty. Your relationship with Vin is going to be difficult. She has certain issues that will provide more problems than you would find in a more conventional woman.”

  “We’ve already discussed this,” Elend said. “I’m not looking for a more ‘conventional’ woman. I love Vin.”

  “I’m not implying that you shouldn’t,” Tindwyl said calmly. “I am simply giving you instruction, as I have been asked to do. You need to decide how much you’re going to let the girl, and your relationship with her, distract you.”

  “What makes you think I’m distracted?”

  Tindwyl raised an eyebrow. “I asked you about your success with Lord Venture this evening, and all you wanted to talk about was how Vin felt during the ride home.”