She sat uncomfortably, burning bronze, feeling the pulsing from far away. It was growing even louder….
Stop it! she told herself. Sazed doesn’t think the Hero would return, and he knows the histories better than anyone. It was foolish, anyway. I need to focus on what’s happening here.
After all, Zane was in the audience.
Vin sought out his face near the back of the room, a light burn of tin—not enough to blind her—letting her study his features. He wasn’t looking at her, but watching the Assembly. Was he working at Straff’s command, or was this visit his own? Straff and Cett both undoubtedly had spies in the audience—and, of course, Ham had guards mixed with the people as well. Zane unnerved her, however. Why didn’t he turn toward her? Wasn’t—
Zane met her eyes. He smiled slightly, then turned back to his study of Elend.
Vin felt a shiver despite herself. So, did this mean he wasn’t avoiding her? Focus! She told herself. You need to pay attention to what Elend is saying.
He was almost done, however. He wrapped up his speech with a few comments on how he thought they could keep Straff off-balance. Again, he couldn’t be too detailed—not without giving away secrets. He glanced at the large clock in the corner; done three minutes early, he moved to leave the lectern.
Lord Penrod cleared his throat. “Elend, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Elend hesitated, then looked back at the Assembly. “What is it that you all want me to say?”
“Don’t you have a reaction?” one of the skaa workers said. “About…what happened at the last meeting?”
“You received my missive,” Elend said. “You know how I feel about the matter. However, this public forum is not a place for accusations or denunciations. The Assembly is too noble a body for that kind of thing. I wish that a time of danger were not when the Assembly had chosen to voice its concerns, but we cannot alter what has happened.”
He moved to sit again.
“That’s it?” asked one of the skaa. “You’re not even going to argue for yourself, try and persuade us to reinstate you?”
Elend paused again. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think that I will. You have made your opinions known to me, and I am disappointed. However, you are the representatives chosen by the people. I believe in the power that you have been given.
“If you have questions, or challenges, I will be happy to defend myself. However, I am not going to stand and preach my virtues. You all know me. You know what I can do, and what I intend to do, for this city and the surrounding populace. Let that stand as my argument.”
He returned to his seat. Vin could see hints of a frown on Tindwyl’s face. Elend hadn’t given the speech that she and he had prepared, a speech giving the very arguments the Assembly was obviously expecting.
Why the change? Vin wondered. Tindwyl obviously didn’t think it was a good idea. And yet, oddly, Vin found herself trusting Elend’s instincts more than she did Tindwyl’s.
“Well,” Lord Penrod said, approaching the lectern again. “Thank you for that report, Lord Venture. I’m not certain if we have other items of business….”
“Lord Penrod?” Elend asked.
“Yes?”
“Perhaps you should hold the nominations?”
Lord Penrod frowned.
“The nominations for king, Penrod,” Philen snapped.
Vin paused, eyeing the merchant. He certainly seems up on things, she noted.
“Yes,” Elend said, eyeing Philen as well. “In order for the Assembly to choose a new king, nominations must be held at least three days before the actual voting. I suggest we hold the nominations now, so that we can hold the vote as soon as possible. The city suffers each day it is without a leader.”
Elend paused, then smiled. “Unless, of course, you intend to let the month lapse without choosing a new king….”
Good to confirm that he still wants the crown, Vin thought.
“Thank you, Lord Venture,” Penrod said. “We’ll do that now, then…. And, how exactly do we proceed?”
“Each member of the Assembly may make one nomination, if he wishes,” Elend said. “So that we don’t become overburdened with options, I would recommend that we all exercise restraint—only choose someone that you honestly and sincerely think would make the finest king. If you have a nomination to make, you may stand and announce it to the rest of the group.”
Penrod nodded, returning to his seat. Almost as soon as he sat, however, one of the skaa stood. “I nominate Lord Penrod.”
Elend had to expect that, Vin thought. After nominating Penrod to be chancellor. Why give such authority to the man that he knew would be his greatest contender for the throne?
The answer was simple. Because Elend knew that Lord Penrod was the best choice for chancellor. Sometimes, he’s a little too honorable, Vin thought, not for the first time. She turned to study the skaa Assemblyman who had nominated Penrod. Why were the skaa so quick to unify behind a nobleman?
She suspected that it was still too soon. The skaa were accustomed to being led by noblemen, and even with their freedom, they were traditional beings—more traditional, even, than the noblemen. A lord like Penrod—calm, commanding—seemed inherently better suited to the title of king than a skaa.
They’ll have to get over that, eventually, Vin thought. At least, they will if they’re ever going to be the people that Elend wants them to be.
The room remained quiet, no other nominations being made. A few people coughed in the audience, even the whispers now dead. Finally, Lord Penrod himself stood.
“I nominate Elend Venture,” he said.
“Ah…” someone whispered behind her.
Vin turned, glancing at Breeze. “What?” she whispered.
“Brilliant,” Breeze said. “Don’t you see? Penrod is an honorable man. Or, at least, as honorable as noblemen get—which means that he insists on being seen as honorable. Elend nominated Penrod for chancellor….”
Hoping, in turn, that Penrod would feel obligated to nominate Elend for king, Vin realized. She glanced at Elend, noting a slight smile on his lips. Had he really crafted the exchange? It seemed a move subtle enough for Breeze himself.
Breeze shook his head appreciatively. “Not only did Elend not have to nominate himself—which would have made him look desperate—but now everyone on the Assembly thinks that the man they respect, the man they would probably choose as king, would rather have Elend hold the title. Brilliant.”
Penrod sat, and the room remained quiet. Vin suspected that he also had made the nomination so that he wouldn’t go uncontested to the throne. The entire Assembly probably thought that Elend deserved a chance to reclaim his place; Penrod was just the one who was honorable enough to voice the feeling.
But, what about the merchants? Vin thought. They’ve got to have their own plan. Elend thought that it was probably Philen who had organized the vote against him. They’d want to put one of their own on the throne, one who could open the city gates to whichever of the kings was manipulating them—or whichever one paid the best.
She studied the group of eight men, in their suits that seemed—somehow—even more fine than those of the noblemen. They all seemed to be waiting on the whims of a single man. What was Philen planning?
One of the merchants moved as if to stand, but Philen shot him a harsh glance. The merchant did not rise. Philen sat quietly, a nobleman’s dueling cane across his lap. Finally, when most of the room had noticed the merchant’s focus on him, he slowly rose to his feet.
“I have a nomination of my own,” he said.
There was a snort from the skaa section. “Now who’s being melodramatic, Philen?” one of the Assemblymen there said. “Just go ahead and do it—nominate yourself.”
Philen raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I’m not going to nominate myself.”
Vin frowned, and she saw confusion in Elend’s eyes.
“Though I appreciate the sentiment,” Philen continued, “I am but a simp
le merchant. No, I think that the title of king should go to someone whose skills are a little more specialized. Tell me, Lord Venture, must our nominations be for people on the Assembly?”
“No,” Elend said. “The king doesn’t have to be an Assemblyman—I accepted this position after the fact. The king’s primary duty is that of creating, then enforcing, the law. The Assembly is only an advisory council with some measure of counterbalancing power. The king himself can be anyone—actually, the title was intended to be hereditary. I didn’t expect…certain clauses to be invoked quite so quickly.”
“Ah, yes,” Philen said. “Well, then. I think the title should go to someone who has a little practice with it. Someone who has shown skill with leadership. Therefore, I nominate Lord Ashweather Cett to be our king!”
What? Vin thought with shock as Philen turned, gesturing toward the audience. A man sitting there removed his skaa cloak, pulling down the hood, revealing a suit and a face with a bristling beard.
“Oh dear…” Breeze said.
“It’s actually him?” Vin asked incredulously as the whispers began in the audience.
Breeze nodded. “Oh, that’s him. Lord Cett himself.” He paused, then eyed her. “I think we might be in trouble.”
32
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 g
et 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.”
The Mistborn Trilogy Page 109
