Elantris (76 page)

“Excellent!” Raoden proclaimed. “We shall immediately seek another place to reside.”

“No, no,” the old duke said, holding up his hands. “Stay here as long as you wish. I get so few visitors in my old age that even this small house often seems too large.”

“Then we shall stay as long as you suffer us!” Raoden declared with characteristically Duladen lack of decorum. It was said that the moment you invited a Dula to stay, you would never get rid of him—or his family.

“Tell me, citizen,” Roial said, strolling to the balcony. “Where did you find a dozen lamp mounts made of solid gold?”

“Family heirlooms,” Raoden said. “I pried them off our mansion walls even as the people burned it down.”

“It must have been horrible,” Roial said, leaning against the balcony rail.

“Worse than horrible,” Raoden said with somberness. Then he smiled. “But those times are over now, my lord. I have a new country and new friends! You shall become my family now.”

Roial nodded absently, then shot wary eyes back at Galladon.

“I see something occupies your mind, Lord Roial,” Raoden said. “Fear not to speak it—good Dendo has been with me since I was born; he is worthy of any man’s trust.”

Roial nodded, turning back to look out over his estate. “I do not mention the harsh times in your homeland indiscriminately, citizen. You said they are over now, but I fear for us the terror is just beginning.”

“Ah, you speak of the problems with the throne,” Raoden said with a click of his tongue.

“Yes, citizen,” Roial said. “Telrii is not a strong leader. I fear Arelon will soon fall to Duladel’s fate. We have Fjordell wolves nipping at us, smelling blood, but our nobility pretends to see nothing more than favored hounds.”

“Oh troubled times,” Raoden said. “Where can I go to find simple peace?”

“Sometimes we must make our own peace, citizen.”

“What do you mean?” Raoden asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Citizen, I hope I do not injure you when I point out that the others see you as rather frivolous.”

Raoden laughed. “I hope they see me that way, my lord. I should hate to think I’ve been playing the fool for nothing.”

Roial smiled. “I sense a wit in you that is not completely masked by your foppishness, citizen. Tell me, how did you manage to escape from Duladen?”

“I am afraid that is one secret which must remain untold, my lord,” Raoden said. “There are those who would suffer dearly if their part in my escape became known.”

Roial nodded. “I understand. The important part is that you survived when your countrymen did not. Do you know how many refugees came up through the border when the Republic fell?”

“I am afraid not, my lord,” Raoden replied. “I was a little busy at the time.”

“None,” Roial said. “Not a single one that I know of—yourself excluded. I hear that the republicans were too shocked to even think of escaping.”

“My people are slow to act, my lord,” Raoden said with upraised hands. “In this case, our lax manner proved our downfall. The revolution rolled over us while we were still discussing what to have for dinner.”

“But you escaped.”

“I escaped,” Raoden agreed.

“You have already been through what we might have to suffer, and that makes your advice valuable—no matter what the others may think.”

“There is a way to escape Duladel’s fate, my lord,” Raoden said cautiously. “Though it could be dangerous. It would involve a … change in leadership.”

Roial’s eyes narrowed knowingly, and he nodded. Something passed between them—an understanding of the duke’s offer and Raoden’s willingness.

“You speak of dangerous things,” Roial warned.

“I have been though a lot, my lord. I would not be averse to a little more danger if it provided me a means of living the rest of my life in peace.”

“I cannot guarantee that will happen,” Roial said.

“And I cannot guarantee that this balcony won’t suddenly collapse, sending us to our doom. All we can do is count on luck, and our wits, to protect us.”

Roial nodded. “You know the house of the merchant Kiin?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me there tonight at sunset.”

Raoden nodded, and the duke excused himself. As the door shut, Raoden winked at Galladon. “And you thought I couldn’t do it.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” Galladon said dryly.

“The secret was Roial, my friend,” Raoden said, pulling the balcony door shut as he walked back into the room. “He sees through most façades—but, unlike Sarene, his primary question is not ‘Why is this man trying to fool me?’ but ‘How can I make use of what I know?’ I gave him hints, and he responded.”

Galladon nodded. “Well, you’re in. Now what will you do?”

“Find a way to put Roial on the throne instead of Telrii,” Raoden said, picking up a cloth and a jar of brown makeup. He smeared some of the makeup on the cloth, then tucked the cloth in his pocket.

Galladon raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?” he asked, nodding to the cloth.

“Something I hope I won’t have to use.”

CHAPTER 53

“What is he doing here?” Sarene demanded, standing at the doorway to Kiin’s kitchen. The idiot Kaloo sat inside, dressed in a montage of garish reds and oranges. He spoke animatedly with Kiin and Roial, and apparently hadn’t noticed her arrival.

Lukel closed the door behind her, then glanced toward the Dula with apparent distaste. Her cousin was known as one of the wittiest, most colorful men in Kae. Kaloo’s reputation, however, had quickly eclipsed even Lukel’s, leaving the young merchant a bitter second.

“Roial invited him for some reason,” Lukel muttered.

“Has Roial gone mad?” Sarene asked, perhaps more loudly than she should have. “What if that cursed Dula is a spy?”

“A spy for whom?” Kaloo asked merrily. “I don’t think your pompous king has the political acumen to hire spies—and let me assure you, no matter how much I exasperate you, Princess, I bother Fjordells even more. That gyorn would rather stab himself in the chest than pay me for information.”

Sarene flushed with embarrassment, an action that only sent Kaloo into another peal of laughter.

“I think, Sarene, you will find Citizen Kaloo’s opinions helpful,” Roial said. “This man sees things differently from Arelenes, and he also has a fresh opinion of events in Kae. I seem to remember that you yourself used a similar argument when you first joined us. Do not discount Kaloo’s value because he happens to be a little more eccentric than you find comfortable.”

Sarene frowned, but allowed herself to be rebuked. The duke’s observations held weight; it would be helpful to have a new perspective. For some reason Roial seemed to trust Kaloo. She could sense a mutual respect between them. Grudgingly, she admitted that perhaps the duke had seen something in Kaloo that she hadn’t. The Dula had, after all, been staying with Roial for several days.

Ahan was late, as usual. Shuden and Eondel spoke quietly at one end of the table, their subdued conversation a stark contrast to Kaloo’s vibrant narrative. Kiin had provided appetizers—crackers with some sort of creamy white glaze atop them.
Despite her insistences that he not prepare dinner, Kiin had obviously been unable to let this many people congregate without giving them something to eat. Sarene smiled; she doubted that other treasonous conspiracies enjoyed gourmet snacks.

A few moments later, Ahan waddled in, not bothering to knock. He plopped himself down in his customary seat and proceeded to attack the crackers.

“We’re all here, then,” Sarene said, speaking sharply to interrupt Kaloo. All heads turned toward her as she stood. “I trust you all have given our predicament much thought. Does anyone want to start?”

“I will,” Ahan said. “Maybe Telrii can be persuaded not to convert to Shu-Dereth.”

Sarene sighed. “I thought we discussed this, Ahan. Telrii isn’t debating whether or not to convert; he’s waiting to see how much money he can get out of Wyrn.”

“If only we had more troops,” Roial said with a shake of his head. “With a proper army, we could intimidate Telrii. Sarene, what chance is there of getting aid from Teod?”

“Not much,” Sarene said, sitting. “Remember, my father swore himself to Shu-Dereth. Besides, Teod has a wonderful navy, but few ground troops. Our country has a small population—we survive by sinking our enemies before they land.”

“I hear there are resistance fighters in Duladel,” Shuden suggested. “They harass caravans occasionally.”

All eyes turned toward Kaloo, who raised his hands palms forward. “Trust me, my friends, you do not want their help. The men of which you speak are mostly former republicans, like myself. They can duel one another with fine proficiency, but a syre isn’t much good against a trained solider, especially if he has five friends beside him. The resistance only survives because the Fjordells are too lazy to chase it out of the swamps.”

Shuden frowned. “I thought they were hiding in the caves of the Duladen Steppes.”

“There are several pockets of them,” Kaloo said smoothly, though Sarene detected a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
Who are you?
she thought as the conversation moved forward.

“I think we should bring the people into it,” Lukel said. “Telrii has indicated that he intends to maintain the plantation system. If we encourage the common people to our cause, they should be willing to rise against him.”

“It could work,” Eondel said. “Lady Sarene’s plan to sharecrop my peasants has given them a taste of freedom, and they’ve grown far more self-confident over the last few months. But, it would take a great deal of time—you don’t train men to fight overnight.”

“Agreed,” Roial said. “Telrii will be Derethi long before we finish, and Hrathen’s proclamation will be law.”

“I could pretend to be Derethi for a while,” Lukel said. “If only while I’m planning the king’s demise.”

Sarene shook her head. “If we give Shu-Dereth that kind of foothold in Arelon, we’ll never be free of it.”

“It’s only a religion, Sarene,” Ahan said. “I think we should focus on real problems.”

“You don’t think Shu-Dereth is a ‘real problem,’ Ahan?” Sarene asked. “Why don’t you try and explain that to Jindo and Duladel?”

“She’s right,” Roial said. “Fjorden embraced Shu-Dereth as a vehicle for domination. If those priests convert Arelon, then Wyrn will rule here no matter who we put on the throne.”

“Then raising an army of peasants is out?” Shuden asked, bringing the conversation back on topic.

“Too time-consuming,” Roial said.

“Besides,” Kaloo noted, “I don’t think you want to throw this country into war. I’ve seen what a bloody revolution can do to a nation—it breaks the people’s spirit to fight one another. The men in the Elantris City Guard might be fools, but they are still your countrymen. Their blood would be on your hands.”

Sarene looked up at the comment, made without a hint of Kaloo’s normal flamboyance. Something about him made her increasingly suspicious.

“Then what?” Lukel said with exasperation. “We can’t fight Telrii and we can’t wait for him to convert. What do we do?”

“We could kill him,” Eondel said quietly.

“Well?” Sarene asked. She hadn’t expected that suggestion to come out quite so early in the meeting.

“It has merits,” Kiin agreed, showing a cold dispassion that Sarene had never seen in him before. “Assassinating Telrii would solve a lot of problems.”

The room fell quiet. Sarene felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she studied the men. They knew what she knew. She had determined long before the meeting began that this was the only way.

“Ah, one man’s death to save a nation,” Kaloo whispered.

“It seems the only alternative,” Kiin said with a shake of his head.

“Perhaps,” the Dula said. “Though I wonder if we aren’t underestimating the people of Arelon.”

“We already discussed this,” Lukel said. “We don’t have enough time to rally the peasants.”

“Not just the peasants, young Lukel,” Kaloo said, “but the nobility. Have you not sensed their hesitance to back Telrii? Have you not seen the discomfort in their eyes? A king with no support is no king at all.”

“And the Guard?” Kiin asked pointedly.

“I wonder if we couldn’t turn them,” Kaloo said. “Certainly they could be persuaded to see that what they have done is not right.”

“You” had become “we.” Sarene’s brow furled; she almost had it. There was something familiar about his words….

“It’s an interesting suggestion,” Roial said.

“The Guard and the nobility support Telrii because they don’t see another alternative,” Kaloo explained. “Lord Roial was shamed by the failed wedding, and Lady Sarene was thrown into Elantris. Now, however, the embarrassment has been removed. Perhaps if we can show the Guard the ultimate result of their decision—occupation by Fjorden and a virtual enslavement of our people—they will realize that they supported the wrong man. Give men an honest choice, and I believe they will choose wisely.”

That was it. Sarene knew that faith somewhere—that pure belief in the basic goodness of all men. And, when she suddenly realized where she had seen it before, she couldn’t stop herself from jumping up and yelping in surprise.