Brandon Sanderson - [Stormlight Archive 01]
Page 27
Shinri glanced up, unconsciously seeking Nelshenden. There he stood,
eyes plain with the sincerity of an honest and honorable man. He stood in
his place, waiting beside Jasnah’s chair, a position he bore not just out of duty, but out of love as well. Sometimes, seeing the pain in his eyes was
too much for Shinri to endure, and she had to flee.
Jasnah ignored the man, as usual. She conferred quietly with Kemnar,
whom she had always found more useful. Though there was nothing
between them, of course. Kemnar was far more like Jasnah—devious,
capable of compromise, and efficient. However, he was fond of common
women—the citizens he met in bars or on the street.
The two schemed while Nelshenden stood slightly apart, wishing he
could find a way to earn Jasnah’s respect and love, but knowing somehow
that no matter what he did, he would only find her disapproval. Shinri
knew that feeling well.
“Shinri,” Jasnah suddenly said. “I need you.”
“Yes, my lady,” Shinri said, tucking her letters into her left sleeve pocket and rising to join her mistress.
“What do you know of recent events in your homeland?” Jasnah asked.
“Very little, I’m afraid, my lady,” Shinri said. “I have been busy with
events here in Alethkar.”
Jasnah frowned. “Kemnar informs me that times are tempestuous in the
Three Houses.”
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 187
“Times are always tempestuous in the Three Houses, my lady,” Shinri
replied. “But Kemnar is correct. From what I’ve heard, recent events are
even more troubling than usual. My far cousin has raised an army against
his kinsmen. While it wouldn’t be the first time one House took arms up
against another, it does appear that this might be more than the typical
border dispute or retribution for a caravan raid.”
Jasnah glanced at Kemnar, then sighed. “I can’t watch everyone in
every kingdom,” she said in an almost grumbling voice. “But a war on our
southern border is hardly something that can be ignored. Shinri, perhaps
you should deliver your responses to those letters in person.”
The implication was clear—Shinri was to visit her contacts in Veden
City and gather what intelligence she could. The command was not un-
welcome—the Rienar cover-up was likely linked to the constant struggles
between the Three Houses. Perhaps she could serve multiple purposes with
a single visit.
“Yes, my lady,” Shinri said. “It has been too long since I last paid my
respects to King Ahven, anyway. I should have visited long before.”
Jasnah nodded, waving her away and immediately moving on to other
plots.
The Idiot King sat pleasantly upon his throne. He nodded happily at
those who approached him and bowed to pay their respects. His clothing
matched his smile—rich, yet somehow lacking regality. Matched with the
man’s vapid eyes and innocent smile, the bright clothing seemed childishly gaudy. A waste of coin and silk.
Ahven obviously knew nothing of his looming death. It hadn’t taken
Shinri much time to assess the situation—though her contact with her
homeland had been sparse during the last few years, the Vedens were
a far more open people than their Aleth cousins. In addition, news of
Talshekh’s approach was hardly a secret topic. Her distant cousin had final y gathered the forces, and the courage, to march on Veden City. He came to
conquer—soon a new House would sit on the throne.
It had only been a matter of time. House Vedenel had allowed itself
to grow too weak, a disease manifest by its figurehead of a king. Poor
decisions, a lax military, and fallen trade contracts had left the once-virile House with barely enough power to maintain the city, let alone its armies.
Though forces were being gathered, allies being called upon, it was highly unlikely that House Vedenel would be able to raise an army large enough
to resist the conqueror.
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Well, Shinri thought, at least it will be a relatively quick coup. Vedenel has to stand here—the city is by far its most secure refuge. Those who wish to fight will die quickly, and those with less honor will bow to the new king.
The nobility were not ignorant of this choice. The Veden noblemen stood
stiffly, speaking in the quiet tones of nervous men. Those with enough
influence, or who were not too closely related to the royal line, had already fled the capital to ‘seek respite’ on their own lands. Those who remained
would either have to risk standing with the king—fighting a battle that
they were unlikely to win—or they would have to side with Talshekh and
hope that the new king didn’t decide they had been too closely connected
to the king to be left alive.
Most probably wouldn’t make that final decision for several days yet.
They were waiting to see if the Lord Puppeteer managed to gather a suitable resistance or not. The Vedens were a martial people, but they didn’t hold
strictly to Aleth ideals of honor. Few battlefield warriors saw any good in fighting a far superior foe, and the Veden men would react similarly when
the time came. The only ones whose doom was absolutely certain were those
whose power was directly related to that of the king.
The Lord Puppeteer, notably, was absent from the ball.
Shinri smiled, waving a servant to refill her wine. The Puppeteer was
undoubtedly very busy seeking allies and planning for the battle. He had no wife or daughter, and was even reported to distrust women politicians—a
sentiment that would hurt him severely. But his misfortune was hardly
a reason for grief. Shinri had never much cared for Karathach or the king
he controlled. Of course, her impressions had been formed during her
childhood, when she had not been known for her rational assessment of
personalities. Still, it struck her as poetic that the Puppeteer should fall with barely a whimper after flaunting his power so blatantly. She did feel a measure of sympathy for her poor, mindless king. Inside Shinri’s mind,
however, Jasnah’s imposed rationality whispered that the kingdom would
prosper far more under Talshekh’s reign.
She strol ed across the feast chamber. She was surprised at how refreshing she found it to return to Veden courtly ideals—or perhaps the refreshment
simply came from escaping Aleth austerity. Either way, the Vedens were far more lax than their northern cousins. Instead of sitting primly at tables, the women stood near grand serving tables, mingling and holding small bowls
of food. They discussed politics openly, rather than sending clandestine
missives to dart between tables, and did so unabashedly within the hearing of men. Some of the groups even intermixed as they ate, speaking openly
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 189
together. Even with the extreme tension of an approaching army, their in-
teractions were far more relaxed than what Shinri had grown accustomed to.
She chose a group of women sprinkled with ladies of power, yet not too
closely kinned to the royal line, and approached with a slow gait, selecting small pieces of sliced fruit from the dining table and placing them in her bowl. She wasn’t really very hungry, but the fruit plates had been arranged so precisely and carefully that it was difficult to resist plucking slices from their patterns, if only to break them up a bit.
The sma
ll group of women noticed her approach, and immediately made
room for her. Shinri held in her smile of pleasure. Her surname did not
go unnoticed in Vedenar these days. Though her relationship to Talshekh
Davar was relatively distant, she was still of his line. Too far removed to make a good hostage, but not so far removed that she wouldn’t make a
decent ally in the impending months. The power gave her an unexpected
edge, one she hadn’t enjoyed since the height of Jasnah’s courtly influence back in Alethkar. Yet this power was far superior, for it was actually Shinri’s, and not just another facet of Jasnah’s competence.
“Lady Shinri Davar,” said one of the women, bowing her head. She was
Lady Khalsah Iahven, a Fourth Lady and far too important to normally
have bothered with a simple ward such as Shinri.
Yes, Shinri thought, bowing back, but not showing as much deference as she should have. I could grow accustomed to influence like this. Perhaps that is what draws Jasnah to politics.
“We are graced by your unexpected visit, Lady Davar,” Khalsah continued.
Yes, Khalsah, we all heard my surname the first time. Thank you. “It is I who am graced, Lady Khalsah,” Shinri replied. “I have been away from the
Veden court for such a long time that I feared a cold reception.”
“Never for you, Lady Shinri,” said another lady—Temanan Iaven, Khalsah’s
distant cousin.
Shinri smiled with closed lips. “Thank you for the welcome. Though, I
must admit surprise at finding the city so fortified with soldiers.”
“Oh, it is not so defensible as one might think,” Temanan said quickly,
obviously hoping Shinri would somehow relay the information—and its
source—back to Talshekh. “Loyal allies to the king are strangely difficult to find. A most unpleasant state, I must say.”
“Loyalty is always most strongly tested during times of strife,” Shinri
said. “I’m sure the king’s supporters will prove sufficient from their strength of heart, if nothing else.”
“Indeed,” Khalsah said. She was obviously the craftier of the two. Perhaps
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fifty years in age, her feminine braids were subdued and streaked with grey.
Though the men preferred costumes far more simply cut than their Aleth
counterparts, the women’s dresses were virtually indistinguishable from
northern designs.
“Of course,” Shinri noted idly, “the king’s obvious success does not
preclude us from discussing other outcomes for reasons of entertainment.”
“Purely for logical enjoyment,” Khalsah agreed.
It was a flimsy excuse. However, Shinri suspected that it would compare
rather soundly to the tensets of similar excuses being given by other
ball-goers. Few of the king’s more vital supporters had chosen to attend this particular function, and the Puppeteer was in no position to begin alienating the numerous fence-sitters by striking against those who discussed his fall.
Ironically, treason was about as easy to discuss as the next highstorm.
“I wonder,” Shinri said, popping a roshfruit slice in her mouth, “what do
you think of my cousin’s ridiculous aspirations. If he is temeritous enough to march against the king, might he be foolish enough to move on to . . .
other interests as well?”
Khalsah’s eyes narrowed. Shinri placed her in a difficult position—the
woman had to decide if she were speaking to Jasnah’s ward or Talshekh’s
cousin.
“I doubt he will look northward,” Khalsah finally said. “Your cousin
is an ambitious man—not an undesirable trait in a leader. However, the
Aleth border is too strong to penetrate, and King Elhokar’s armies are still gathered from his campaign in Prallah, are they not?”
“Indeed,” Shinri agreed.
“The treaty with Alethkar has been very favorable,” said the final
woman, Vedmaken Jentil. Short, with blondish southern hair, the woman
was the least powerful in the group. She would hold her tongue for most
of the conversation.
Khalsah nodded. “I doubt Talshekh would risk endangering trade with
the north to start a war that he would be unlikely to win. I have this
information from . . . reliable sources. You may relate it with confidence.”
Ah, so you choose Shinri the Ward after all, Shinri noted. Well played. Not that Khalsah didn’t hope to gain influence from the conversation—she
had given Shinri a potential gem of information, and would expect a
well-spoken word or two in return.
Most of the evening’s conversation had been along similar lines. Kem-
nar’s worry about Vedenar was unfounded—there was unrest, true, but the
Idiot King would fall quickly. Talshekh’s ambition would stop there—he
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 191
couldn’t begin a march northward, not with the Searing coming and the
Aleth borders so well-patrolled. Once he took the throne, he would have
to expend effort to secure his reign, not to mention be wary of yet another Lakhenran revolt. Alethkar was safe for at least a few years.
And that meant that Shinri had time to probe a few other questions.
“I appreciate your candor, Lady Khalsah,” Shinri said. “You appear to
have enviable contacts.”
Khalsah smiled. “Some prepare better than others.”
“Indeed. My contacts in Vedenar are unenviable these days, especially
considering recent losses.”
“Prince Tethren’s death was a tragedy for the entire kingdom,” Khalsah
said smoothly. The smile in her eye was almost gleeful. She knew some-
thing, but she wasn’t about to share it.
So, Shinri thought with dissatisfaction, the coin of my surname is that easily expended? There was something else in Khalsah’s face. Vengefulness? Shinri frowned, trying to remember if, as a child, she’d ever thrown anything at
the woman. Unfortunately, by pure odds of probably, the chances were not
in Shinri’s favor. . . .
Lady Temanan frowned slightly. “Prince Tethren?” she asked. “Indeed.
To lose him, and in such a way . . .”
Khalsah paled almost imperceptibly as Temanan spoke, and Shinri
sprang before the senior woman could deflect the conversation.
“In which way is that?” Shinri asked.
“Why,” Temanan said, flushing slightly. “You know . . . that way. To one of them. I would never travel with one myself, and all the way to Thalenah . . .”
“Ah yes,” Shinri said quickly. There was only one them in Veden society.
“I warned him not to take an Awakener with him on the ship.”
Khalsah frowned in dissatisfaction, studying Shinri’s face, obviously
trying to determine the extent of Shinri’s bluff. In this area, however, she was outmatched—one of them had been trained by Lady Jasnah Kholin,
and the other had not.
“Terrible indeed,” Shinri said to prompt Temanan. Her mind, however,
buzzed. An Awakener? On the ship? It was unlikely. Tethren had been a
pious Vorin, but—like most Vedens—he had been deeply superstitious. He
would never have traveled on the same ship as an Awakener.
Temanan leaned closer. “I heard the creature went completely mad,”
she whispered. “As they often do, you know. It made the waters around
its own ship burn, and the vessel was immolated completely. That’s why
all hands were lost. They say the things can’t hurt a person directly, bu
t if
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they turn the boat around you into stone, your own immunity won’t do
much good, eh?”
“Cousin,” Khalsah said. “This is her former betrothed you speak of. Mind
your tongue.”
Temanan flushed, but the damage had been done. Perhaps it is you who should mind your tongue, Khalsah, Shinri noted. If you want to keep a secret, you probably shouldn’t tell it to your weak-minded cousin.
“I . . . think I will withdraw, ladies,” Shinri said, bowing slightly and
adopting a slightly ill look. Let them think that talk of Tethren had left her morose—perhaps they would be afraid enough of losing favor with her
that they would volunteer more information at another date.
She bid her other farewells as quickly as propriety allowed. She made a
few subtle inquiries as she did so—now that she had some information she
could tease, getting others to volunteer what they knew in the hopes that
she would be able to add something more was easier. She spent little time at it, but that little was enough. Those who had decent connections knew the
same story. Tethren had been transporting an Awakener to Thalenah—the
Thalen king’s fascination with Awakeners and their arts was well known.
The sale of a kingdom’s Awakener was strictly forbidden by The Way of
Kings, as was the treatment of any person like a commodity, but it often happened anyway.
King Amelin of Thalenah would have paid richly indeed for an Awakener.
He probably would have even given Tethren a sizable amount of the creature’s Awakening profits—Shinri knew Amelin, and the stories were true. He
kept Awakeners because of the novelty of their power as much as for the
wealth they could bring. Trading him one would have been a masterful deal.
However, Shinri knew it never could have happened. Tethren believed
too strongly in Sheneres to do such a thing. Beyond that, he loathed Awakeners—he had always cringed when someone told him a material had been
Awakened, and never even wanted to discuss the topic of Awakeners. He
would not have brought one on his ship—he wouldn’t have even brought
one in the same convoy. No matter what his father or brothers demanded,
Tethren would have had nothing to do with such a deal.