The week passed slowly. Kelsier inspected the troops, the training, the food, the weapons, the supplies, the scouts, the guards, and just about everything else he could think of. More important, he visited the men. He complimented and encouraged them—and he made certain to use Allomancy frequently in front of them.
While many skaa had heard of “Allomancy,” very few knew specifically what it could do. Nobleman Mistings rarely used their powers in front of other people, and half-breeds had to be even more careful. Ordinary skaa, even city skaa, didn’t know of things like Steelpushing or Pewter-burning. When they saw Kelsier flying through the air or sparring with supernatural strength, they would just attribute it to formless “Allomancy Magics.” Kelsier didn’t mind the misunderstanding at all.
Despite all of the week’s activities, however, he never forgot his conversation with Ham.
How could he even wonder if skaa are inferior? Kelsier thought, poking at his meal as he sat at the high table in the central meeting cavern. The massive “room” was large enough to hold the entire army of seven thousand men, though many sat in side chambers or halfway out into tunnels. The high table sat on a raised rock formation at the far end of the chamber.
I’m probably worrying too much. Ham was prone to think about things that no sane man would consider; this was just another of his philosophical dilemmas. In fact, he already seemed to have forgotten his earlier concerns. He laughed with Yeden, enjoying his meal.
As for Yeden, the gangly rebel leader looked quite satisfied with his general’s uniform, and had spent the week taking very serious notes from Ham regarding the army’s operation. He seemed to be falling quite naturally into his duties.
In fact, Kelsier seemed to be the only one who wasn’t enjoying the feast. The evening’s foods—brought on the barges especially for the occasion—were humble by aristocratic standards, but were much finer than what the soldiers were used to. The men relished the meal with a joyful boisterousness, drinking their small allotment of ale and celebrating the moment.
And still, Kelsier worried. What did these men think they were fighting for? They seemed enthusiastic about their training, but that might have just been due to the regular meals. Did they actually believe that they deserved to overthrow the Final Empire? Did they think that skaa were inferior to noblemen?
Kelsier could sense their reservations. Many of the men realized the impending danger, and only the strict exit rules kept them from fleeing. While they were eager to speak of their training, they avoided talking about their final task— that of seizing the palace and city walls, then holding off the Luthadel Garrison.
They don’t think they can succeed, Kelsier guessed. They need confidence. The rumors about me are a start, but...
He nudged Ham, getting the man’s attention.
“Are there any men who have given you discipline problems?” Kelsier asked quietly.
Ham frowned at the odd question. “There are a couple, of course. I’d think there are always dissidents in a group this large.”
“Anyone in particular?” Kelsier asked. “Men who have wanted to leave? I need someone outspoken in their opposition to what we’re doing.”
“There are a couple in the brig right now,” Ham said.
“Anyone here?” Kelsier asked. “Preferably someone sitting at a table we can see?”
Ham thought for a moment, scanning the crowd. “The man sitting at the second table with the red cloak. He was caught trying to escape a couple weeks ago.”
The man in question was scrawny and twitchy; he sat at his table with a hunched, solitary posture.
Kelsier shook his head. “I need someone a bit more charismatic.”
Ham rubbed his chin in thought. Then he paused, and nodded toward another table. “Bilg. The big guy sitting at the fourth table over on the right.”
“I see him,” Kelsier said. Bilg was a brawny man wearing a vest and a full beard.
“He’s too clever to be insubordinate,” Ham said, “but he’s been making trouble quietly. He doesn’t think we have a chance against the Final Empire. I’d lock him up, but I can’t really punish a man for expressing fear—or, at least, if I did, I’d have to do the same for half the army. Besides, he’s too good a warrior to discard idly.”
“He’s perfect,” Kelsier said. He burned zinc, then looked toward Bilg. While zinc wouldn’t let him read the man’s emotions, it was possible—when burning the metal—to isolate just a single individual for Soothing or Rioting, much as one was able to isolate a single bit of metal from hundreds to Pull on.
Even still, it was difficult to single Bilg out from such a large crowd, so Kelsier just focused on the entire tableful of men, keeping their emotions “in hand” for later use. Then he stood. Slowly, the cavern quieted.
“Men, before I leave, I wish to express one last time how much I was impressed by this visit.” His words rang through the room, amplified by the cavern’s natural acoustics.
“You are becoming a fine army,” Kelsier said. “I apologize for stealing General Hammond, but I leave a very competent maninhisplace.Many ofyouknowGeneralYeden—you know of his many years serving as rebellion leader. I have confidence in his ability to train you even further in the ways of soldiers.”
He began to Riot Bilg and his companions, enflaming their emotions, counting on the fact that they’d be feeling disagreeable.
“It is a great task I ask of you,” Kelsier said, not looking at Bilg. “Those skaa outside of Luthadel—indeed, most skaa everywhere—have no idea what you are about to do for them. They aren’t aware of the training you endure or the battles you prepare to fight. However, they will reap the rewards. Someday, they will call you heroes.”
He Rioted Bilg’s emotions even harder.
“The Garrison of Luthadel is strong,” Kelsier said, “but we can defeat it—especially if we take the city walls quickly. Do not forget why you came here. This isn’t simply about learning to swing a sword or wear a helm. This is about a revolution such as the world has never seen—it is about taking the government for ourselves, about ousting the Lord Ruler. Do not lose sight of your goal.”
Kelsier paused. From the corner of his eye, he could see dark expressions from the men at Bilg’s table. Finally, in the silence, Kelsier heard a muttered comment from the table— carried by cavern acoustics to many ears.
Kelsier frowned, turning toward Bilg. The entire cavern seemed to grow even more still. “Did you say something?” Kelsier asked. Now, the moment of decision. Will he resist, or will he be cowed?
Bilg looked back. Kelsier hit the man with a flared Riot. His reward came as Bilg stood from his table, face red.
“Yes, sir,” the brawny man snapped. “I did say something. I said that some of us haven’t lost sight of our ‘goal.’We think about it every day.”
“And why is that?” Kelsier asked. Rumbling whispers began to sound at the back of the cavern as soldiers passed the news to those too far away to hear.
Bilg took a deep breath. “Because, sir, we think that this is suicide you’re sending us to. The Final Empire’s armies are bigger than just one garrison. It won’t matter if we take the walls—we’ll get slaughtered eventually anyway. You don’t overthrow an empire with a couple thousand soldiers.”
Perfect, Kelsier thought. I’m sorry, Bilg. But someone needed to say it, and it certainly couldn’t be me.
“I see we have a disagreement,” Kelsier said loudly. “I believe in these men, and in their purpose.”
“I believe that you are a deluded fool,” Bilg bellowed. “And I was a bigger fool for coming to these bloody caves. If you’re so certain about our chances, then why can’t anyone leave? We’re trapped here until you send us to die!”
“You insult me,” Kelsier snapped. “You know very well why men aren’t allowed to leave. Why do you want to go, soldier? Are you that eager to sell out your companions to the Lord Ruler? A few quick boxings in exchange for four thousand lives?”
Bilg’s face grew redder. “I would never do such a thing, but I’m certainly not going to let you send me to my death, either! This army is a waste.”
“You speak treason,” Kelsier said. He turned, scanning the crowd. “It is not fitting for a general to fight a man beneath his command. Is there a soldier here who is willing to defend the honor of this rebellion?”
Immediately, a couple dozen men stood up. Kelsier noticed one in particular. He was smaller than the rest, but he had the simple earnestness that Kelsier had noticed earlier. “Captain Demoux.”
Immediately, the young captain jumped forward.
Kelsier reached over, grabbing his own sword and tossing it down to the man. “You can use a sword, lad?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Someone fetch a weapon for Bilg and a pair of studded vests.” Kelsier turned toward Bilg. “Noblemen have a tradition. When two men have a dispute, they settle it with a duel. Defeat my champion, and you are free to leave.”
“And if he defeats me?” Bilg asked.
“Then you’ll be dead,” Kelsier said.
“I’m dead if I stay,” Bilg said, accepting a sword from a nearby soldier. “I accept the terms.”
Kelsier nodded, waving for some men to pull aside tables and make an open space before the high table. Men began to stand, crowding around to watch the contest.
“Kell, what are you doing!” Ham hissed at his side.
“Something that needs to be done.”
“Needs to be...Kelsier, that boy is no match for Bilg! I trust Demoux—that’s why I promoted him—but he’s not that great a warrior. Bilg’s one of the finest swordsmen in the army!”
“The men know this?” Kelsier asked.
“Of course,” Ham said. “Call this off. Demoux is nearly half Bilg’s size—he’s at a disadvantage in reach, strength, and skill. He’ll get slaughtered!”
Kelsier ignored the request. He sat quietly as Bilg and Demoux hefted their weapons, a pair of soldiers tying on their leather cuirasses. When they were done, Kelsier waved a hand, motioning for the battle to begin.
Ham groaned.
It would be a short fight. Both men had longswords and little armor. Bilg stepped forward with confidence, making a few testing swings toward Demoux. The boy was at least competent—he blocked the blows, but he revealed a great deal about his abilities as he did so.
Taking a deep breath, Kelsier burned steel and iron.
Bilg swung, and Kelsier nudged the blade to the side, giving Demoux room to escape. The boy tried a thrust, but Bilg easily knocked it away. The larger warrior then attacked with a barrage, sending Demoux stumbling backward. Demoux tried to jump out of the way of the last swing, but he was too slow. The blade fell with awful inevitability.
Kelsier flared iron—stabilizing himself by Pulling against a lantern bracket behind—then grabbed the iron studs on Demoux’s vest. Kelsier Pulled as Demoux jumped, yanking the boy backward in a small arc away from Bilg.
Demoux landed with a maladroit stumble as Bilg’s sword smashed into the stone ground. Bilg looked up with surprise, and a low rumble of amazement moved through the crowd.
Bilg growled, running forward with weapon held high. Demoux blocked the powerful swing, but Bilg knocked the boy’s weapon aside with a careless sweep. Bilg struck again, and Demoux raised a hand in reflexive defense.
Kelsier Pushed, freezing Bilg’s sword in midswing. Demoux stood, hand forward, as if he had stopped the attacking weapon with a thought. The two stood like that for a moment, Bilg trying to force the sword forward, Demoux staring in awe at his hand. Standing up a bit straighter, Demoux tentatively forced his hand forward.
Kelsier Pushed, throwing Bilg backward. The large warrior tumbled to the ground with a cry of surprise. When he rose a moment later, Kelsier didn’t have to Riot his emotions to make him angry. He bellowed in rage, grabbing his sword in two hands and rushing toward Demoux.
Some men don’t know when to quit, Kelsier thought as Bilg swung.
Demoux began to dodge. Kelsier shoved the boy to the side, getting him out of the way. Then Demoux turned, gripping his own weapon in two hands and swinging at Bilg. Kelsier grabbed Demoux’s weapon in mid-arc and Pulled against it forcefully, ripping the steel forward with a mighty flare of iron.
The swords smashed together, and Demoux’s Kelsierenhanced blow knocked Bilg’s weapon out of his hands. There was a loud snap, and the large miscreant fell to the floor—thrown completely off balance by the force of Demoux’s blow. Bilg’s weapon bounced to the stone floor a distance away.
Demoux stepped forward, raising his weapon over the stunned Bilg. And then, he stopped. Kelsier burned iron, reaching out to grab the weapon and Pull it down, to force the killing blow, but Demoux resisted.
Kelsier paused. This man should die, he thought angrily. On the ground, Bilg groaned quietly. Kelsier could just barely see his twisted arm, its bone shattered by the powerful strike. It was bleeding.
No, Kelsier thought. This is enough.
He released Demoux’s weapon. Demoux lowered his sword, staring down at Bilg. Then, Demoux raised his hands, regarding them with wonder, his arms quivering slightly.
Kelsier stood, and the crowd fell to a hush once again.
“Do you think I would send you against the Lord Ruler unprepared?” Kelsier demanded in a loud voice. “Do you think I would just send you off to die? You fight for what is just, men! You fight for me. I will not leave you unaided when you go against the soldiers of the Final Empire.”
Kelsier thrust his hand into the air, holding aloft a tiny bar of metal. “You’ve heard of this, haven’t you? You know the rumors of the Eleventh Metal? Well, I have it—and I will use it. The Lord Ruler will die!”
The men began to cheer.
“This is not our only tool!” Kelsier bellowed. “You soldiers have power untold inside of you! You have heard of the arcane magics that the Lord Ruler uses? Well, we have some of our own! Feast, my soldiers, and don’t fear the battle to come. Look forward to it!”
The room erupted in a riot of cheers, and Kelsier waved for more ale to be delivered. A couple of servants rushed forward to help Bilg from the room.
When Kelsier sat, Ham was frowning deeply. “I don’t like this, Kell,” he said.
“I know,” Kelsier said quietly.
Ham was about to speak further, but Yeden leaned across him. “That was amazing! I...Kelsier, I didn’t know! You should have told me you could pass your powers to others. Why, with these abilities, how can we possibly lose?”
Ham laid a hand on Yeden’s shoulder, pushing the man back into his seat. “Eat,” he ordered. Then, he turned to Kelsier, pulling his chair closer and speaking in a low voice. “You just lied to my entire army, Kell.”
“No, Ham,” Kelsier said quietly. “I lied to my army.”
Ham paused. Then his face darkened.
Kelsier sighed. “It was only a partial lie. They don’t need to be warriors, they just have to look threatening long enough for us to grab the atium. With it, we can bribe the Garrison, and our men won’t even have to fight. That’s virtually the same thing as what I promised them.”
Ham didn’t respond.
“Before we leave,” Kelsier said, “I want you to select a few dozen of our most trustworthy and devoted soldiers. We’ll send them back to Luthadel—with vows that they can’t reveal where the army is—so that word of this evening can spread amongst the skaa.”
“So this is about your ego?” Ham snapped.
Kelsier shook his head. “Sometimes we need to do things that we find distasteful, Ham. My ego may be considerable, but this is about something else entirely.”
Ham sat for a moment, then turned back to his meal. He didn’t eat, however—he just sat staring at the blood on the ground before the high table.
Ah, Ham, Kelsier thought. I wish I could explain everything to you.
Plots behind plots, plans beyond plans.
There was always
another secret.
At first, there were those who didn’t think the Deepness was a serious danger, at least not to them. However, it brought with it a blight that I have seen infect nearly every part of the land. Armies are useless before it. Great cities are laid low by its power. Crops fail, and the land dies.
This is the thing I fight. This is the monster I must defeat. I fear that I have taken too long. Already, so much destruction has occurred that I fear for mankind’s survival.
Is this truly the end of the world, as many of the philosophers predict?
22
We arrived in Terris earlier this week, Vin read, and, I have to say, I find the countryside beautiful. The great mountains to the north—with their bald snowcaps and forested mantles—stand like watchful gods over this land of green fertility. My own lands to the south are mostly flat; I think that they might look less dreary if there were a few mountains to vary the terrain.
The people here are mostly herdsmen—though timber harvesters and farmers are not uncommon. It is a pastoral land, certainly. It seems odd that a place so remarkably agrarian could have produced the prophecies and theologies upon which the entire world now relies.
We picked up a group of Terris packmen to guide us through the difficult mountain passages. Yet, these are no ordinary men. The stories are apparently true—some Terrismen have a remarkable ability that is most intriguing.
Somehow, they can store up their strength for use on the next day. Before they sleep at night, they spend an hour lying in their bedrolls, during which time they suddenly grow very frail in appearance—almost as if they had aged by half a cen
tury. Yet, when they wake the next morning, they become
quite muscular. Apparently, their powers have something to
do with the metal bracelets and earrings that they always wear.
The leader of the packmen is named Rashek, and he is
rather taciturn. Nevertheless, Braches—inquisitive, as
always—has promised to interrogate him in the hopes of
discovering exactly how this wondrous strength-storing is
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