The Mistborn Trilogy (153 page)

Lord Ruler, these things are tough!
she thought, cloak whipping as she grabbed the child and dashed away.
Especially when you’re not tough yourself. I need some more metals.

The girl in Vin’s arms cringed as a koloss howl sounded, and Vin spun, flaring her tin to keep herself from falling unconscious from her fatigue. The creatures weren’t following, however—they were arguing over a bit of clothing the dead man had been wearing. The howl sounded again, and this time, Vin realized, it had come from another direction.

People began to scream again. Vin looked up, only to find those she’d just rescued facing down an even larger group of koloss.

“No!” Vin said, raising a hand. But, they’d run far while she’d been fighting. She wouldn’t even have been able to see them, save for her tin. As it was, she was able to see painfully well as the creatures began to lay into the small group with their thick-bladed swords.

“No!” Vin screamed again, the deaths startling her, shocking her, standing as a reminder of all the deaths she’d been unable to prevent.

“No. No!
No!
”

Pewter, gone. Steel, gone. Iron, gone. She had nothing.

Or…she had one thing. Not even pausing to think on what prompted her to use it, she threw a duralumin-enhanced Soothing at the beasts.

It was as if her mind slammed into Something. And then, that Something shattered. Vin skidded to a halt, shocked, child still in her arms as the koloss stopped, frozen in their horrific act of slaughter.

What did I just do?
she thought, tracing through her muddled mind, trying to connect why she had reacted as she had. Was it because she had been frustrated?

No. She knew that the Lord Ruler had built the Inquisitors with a weakness: Remove a particular spike from their back, and they’d die. He had also built the kandra with a weakness. The koloss had to have a weakness, too.

TenSoon called the koloss…his cousins,
she thought.

She stood upright, the dark street suddenly quiet save for the whimpering skaa. The koloss waited, and she could feel herself in their minds. As if they were an extension of her own body, the same thing she had felt when she’d taken control of TenSoon’s body.

Cousins indeed. The Lord Ruler had built the koloss with a weakness—the same weakness as the kandra. He
had
given himself a way to keep them in check.

And suddenly she understood how he’d controlled them all those long years.

Sazed stood at the head of his large band of refugees, snow and ash—the two now indistinguishable in the misty darkness—falling around him. Ham sat to one side, looking drowsy. He’d lost too much blood; a man without pewter would have died by now. Someone had given Sazed a cloak, but he had used it to wrap the comatose Breeze. Even though be barely tapped his brassmind for warmth, Sazed himself wasn’t cold.

Maybe he was just getting too numb to care.

He held two hands up before him, forming fists, ten rings sparkling against the light of the group’s single lantern. Koloss approached from the dark alleyways, their forms huddled shadows in the night.

Sazed’s soldiers backed away. There was little hope left in them. Sazed alone stood in the quiet snow, a spindly, bald scholar, nearly naked. He, the one who preached the religions of the fallen. He, who had given up hope at the end. He, who should have had the most faith of all.

Ten rings. A few minutes of power. A few minutes of life.

He waited as the koloss gathered. The beasts grew strangely silent in the night. They stopped approaching. They stood still, a line of dark, moundlike silhouettes in the night.

Why don’t they attack!
Sazed thought, frustrated.

A child whimpered. Then, the koloss began to move again. Sazed tensed, but the creatures didn’t walk forward. They split, and a quiet figure walked through the center of them.

“Lady Vin?” Sazed asked. He still hadn’t had a chance to speak with her since she’d saved him at the gate. She looked exhausted.

“Sazed,” she said tiredly. “You lied to me about the Well of Ascension.”

“Yes, Lady Vin,” he said.

“That isn’t important now,” she said. “Why are you standing naked
outside
of the keep’s walls?”

“I…” He looked up at the koloss. “Lady Vin, I—”

“Penrod!” Vin shouted suddenly. “Is that you up there?”

The king appeared. He looked as confused as Sazed felt.

“Open your gates!” Vin yelled.

“Are you mad?” Penrod yelled back.

“I’m not sure,” Vin said. She turned, and a group of koloss moved forward, walking quietly as if commanded. The largest one picked Vin up, holding her up high, until she was nearly level with the top of the keep’s low wall. Several guards atop the wall shied away from her.

“I’m tired, Penrod,” Vin said. Sazed had to tap his hearing tinmind to listen in on her words.

“We’re all tired, child,” Penrod said.

“I’m particularly tired,” Vin said. “I’m tired of the games. I’m tired of people dying because of arguments between their leaders. I’m tired of good men being taken advantage of.”

Penrod nodded quietly.

“I want you to gather our remaining soldiers,” Vin said, turning to look over the city. “How many do you have in there?”

“About two hundred,” he said.

Vin nodded. “The city is not lost—the koloss have fought against the soldiers, but haven’t had much time to turn on the population yet. I want you to send out your soldiers to find any groups of koloss that are pillaging or killing. Protect the people, but don’t attack the koloss if you can help it. Send a messenger for me instead.”

Remembering Penrod’s bullheadedness earlier, Sazed thought the man might object. He didn’t. He just nodded.

“What do we do then?” Penrod asked.

“I’ll take care of the koloss,” Vin said. “We’ll go reclaim Keep Venture first—I’m going to need more metals, and there are plenty stored there. Once the city is secure, I want you and your soldiers to put out those fires. It shouldn’t be too hard; there aren’t a lot of buildings left that can burn.”

“Very well,” Penrod said, turning to call out his orders.

Sazed watched in silence as the massive koloss lowered Vin to the ground. It stood quietly, as if it were a monster hewn of stone, and not a breathing, bleeding, living creature.

“Sazed,” Vin said softly. He could sense the fatigue in her voice.

“Lady Vin,” Sazed said. To the side, Ham finally shook himself out of his stupor, looking up in shock as he noticed Vin and the koloss.

Vin continued to look at Sazed, studying him. Sazed had trouble meeting her eyes. But, she was right. They could talk about his betrayal later. There were other, more important tasks that had to be accomplished. “I realize you probably have work for me to do,” Sazed said, breaking the silence. “But, might I instead be excused? There is…a task I wish to perform.”

“Of course, Sazed,” Vin said. “But first, tell me. Do you know if any of the others survived?”

“Clubs and Dockson are dead, my lady,” Sazed said. “I have not seen their bodies, but the reports were from reliable sources. You can see that Lord Hammond is here, with us, though he has suffered a very bad wound.”

“Breeze?” she asked.

Sazed nodded to the lump that lay huddled beside the wall. “He lives, thankfully. His mind, however, appears to be reacting poorly to the horrors he saw. It could simply be a form of shock. Or…it could be something more lasting.”

Vin nodded, turning to Ham. “Ham. I need pewter.”

He nodded dully, pulling out a vial with his good hand. He tossed it to her. Vin downed it, and immediately her fatigue seemed to lessen. She stood up straighter, her eyes becoming more alert.

That can’t be healthy,
Sazed thought with worry.
How much of that has she been burning?

Step more energetic, she turned to walk toward her koloss.

“Lady Vin?” Sazed asked, causing her to turn around. “There is still an army out there.”

“Oh, I know,” Vin said, turning to take one of the large, wedgelike koloss swords from its owner. It was actually a few inches taller than she was.

“I am well aware of Straff’s intentions,” she said, hefting the sword up onto her shoulder. Then she turned in to the snow and mist, walking toward Keep Venture, her strange koloss guards tromping after her.

It took Sazed well into the night to complete his self-appointed task. He found corpse after corpse in the frigid night, many of them iced over. The snow had stopped falling, and the wind had picked up, hardening the slush to slick ice. He had to break some of the corpses free to turn them over and inspect their faces.

Without his brassmind to provide heat, he could never have performed his grisly job. Even so, he had found himself some warmer clothing—a simple brown robe and a set of boots. He continued working through the night, the wind swirling flakes of snow and ice around him. He started at the gate, of course. That was where the most corpses were. However, he eventually had to move into alleyways and thoroughfares.

He found her body sometime near morning.

The city had stopped burning. The only light he had was his lantern, but it was enough to reveal the strip of fluttering cloth in a snowbank. At first, Sazed thought it was just another bloodied bandage that had failed in its purpose. Then he saw a glimmer of orange and yellow, and he moved over—he no longer had the strength to rush—and reached into the snow.

Tindwyl’s body cracked slightly as he rolled it out. The blood on her side was frozen, of course, and her eyes were iced open. Judging from the direction of her flight, she had been leading her soldiers to Keep Venture.

Oh, Tindwyl,
he thought, reaching down to touch her face. It was still soft, but dreadfully cold. After years of being abused by the Breeders, after surviving so much, she had found this. Death in a city where she hadn’t belonged, with a man—no, a
half
man—who did not deserve her.

He released his brassmind, and let the night’s cold wash over him. He didn’t want to feel warm at the moment. His lantern flickered uncertainly, illuminating the street, shadowing the icy corpse. There, in that frozen alley of Luthadel, looking down at the corpse of the woman he loved, Sazed realized something.

He didn’t know what to do.

He tried to think of something proper to say—something proper to think—but suddenly, all of his religious knowledge seemed hollow. What was the use in giving her a burial? What was the value in speaking the prayers of a long-dead god? What good was he? The religion of Dadradah hadn’t helped Clubs; the Survivor hadn’t come to rescue the thousands of soldiers who had died. What was the point?

None of Sazed’s knowledge gave him comfort. He accepted the religions he knew—believed in their value—but that didn’t give him what he needed. They didn’t assure him that Tindwyl’s spirit still lived. Instead, they made him question. If so many people believed so many different things, how could any one of them—or, even, anything at all—actually be true?

The skaa called Sazed holy, but at that moment he realized that he was the most profane of men. He was a creature who knew three hundred religions, yet had faith in none of them.

So, when his tears fell—and nearly began to freeze to his face—they gave him as little comfort as his religions. He moaned, leaning over the frozen corpse.

My life,
he thought,
has been a sham.

Straff woke in the cold morning and immediately reached for a leaf of Black Frayn. He was beginning to see the benefits of his addiction. It woke him quickly and easily, making his body feel warm despite the early hour. When he might have once taken an hour to get ready, he was up in minutes, dressed, prepared for the day.

And glorious that day would be.

Janarle met him outside his tent, and the two walked through the bustling camp. Straff’s boots cracked on half ice, half snow as he made his way to his horse.

“The fires are out, my lord,” Janarle explained. “Probably due to the snows. The koloss probably finished their rampaging and took shelter from the cold. Our scouts are afraid to get too close, but they say the city is like a graveyard. Quiet and empty, save for the bodies.”

“Maybe they actually killed each other off,” Straff said cheerfully, climbing into his saddle, breath puffing in the crisp morning air. Around him, the army was forming up. Fifty thousand soldiers, eager at the prospect of taking the city. Not only was there plundering to be done, but moving into Luthadel would mean roofs and walls for all of them.

“Perhaps,” Janarle said, mounting.

Wouldn’t that be convenient,
Straff thought with a smile.
All of my enemies dead, the city and its riches mine, and no skaa to worry about.

“My lord!” someone cried.

Straff looked up. The field between his camp and Luthadel was colored gray and white, the snow stained by ash. And gathering on the other side of that field were koloss.

“Looks like they are alive after all, my lord,” Janarle said.

“Indeed,” Straff said, frowning. There were still a lot of the creatures. They piled out of the western gate, not attacking immediately, instead gathering in a large body.

“Scout counts say there are fewer of them than there were,” Janarle said after a short time. “Perhaps two-thirds their original number, maybe a bit fewer. But, they
are
koloss….”

“But they’re abandoning their fortifications,” Straff said, smiling, Black Frayn warming his blood, making him feel like he was burning metals. “And they’re coming to us. Let them charge. This should be over quickly.”

“Yes, my lord,” Janarle said, sounding a little less certain. He frowned, then, pointing toward the southern section of the city. “My…lord?”

“What now?”

“Soldiers, my lord,” Janarle said. “Human ones. Looks to be several thousand of them.”

Straff frowned. “They should all be dead!”

The koloss charged. Straff’s horse shuffled slightly as the blue monsters ran across the gray field, the human troops falling into more organized ranks behind.

“Archers!” Janarle shouted. “Prepare first volley!”

Perhaps I shouldn’t be at the front,
Straff thought suddenly. He turned his horse, then noticed something. An arrow suddenly shot from the midst of the charging koloss.

But, koloss didn’t use bows. Besides, the monsters were still far away, and that object was far too big to be an arrow anyway. A rock, perhaps? It seemed larger than…

It began to fall down toward Straff’s army. Straff stared into the sky, riveted by the strange object. It grew more distinct as it fell. It wasn’t an arrow, nor was it a rock.

It was a person—a person with a flapping mistcloak.

“No!” Straff yelled.
She’s supposed to be gone!

Vin screamed down from her duralumin-fueled Steeljump, massive koloss sword light in her hands. She hit Straff directly in the head with the sword, then continued on downward, slamming into the ground, throwing up snow and frozen dirt with the power of her impact.

The horse fell into two pieces, front and back. What remained of the former king slid to the ground with the equine corpse. She looked at the remnants, smiled grimly, and bid Straff farewell.

Elend had, after all, warned him what would happen if he attacked the city.

Straff’s generals and attendants stood around her in a stunned circle. Behind her, the koloss army barreled forward, confusion in Straff’s ranks making the archer volleys ragged and less effective.

Vin kept a tight hold on her sword, then Pushed outward with a duralumin-enhanced Steelpush. Riders were thrown, their beasts tripped by their shoes, and soldiers sprayed backward from her in a circle of several dozen yards. Men screamed.

She downed another vial, restoring both steel and pewter. Then she jumped up, seeking out generals and other officers to attack. As she moved, her koloss troops hit the front ranks of Straff’s army, and the real carnage began.

“What are they doing?” Cett asked, hurriedly throwing on his cloak as he was placed and tied into his saddle.

“Attacking, apparently,” said Bahmen, one of his aides. “Look! They’re working
with
the koloss.”

Cett frowned, doing up his cloak clasp. “A treaty?”

“With koloss?” Bahmen asked.

Cett shrugged. “Who’s going to win?”

“No way to tell, my lord,” the man said. “Koloss are—”

“What is this!” Allrianne demanded, riding up the snowy incline, accompanied by a couple of abashed guards. Cett had, of course, ordered them to keep her in the camp—but he had also, of course, expected that she’d get past them eventually.

At least I can count on her to be slowed down by getting ready in the morning,
he thought with amusement. She wore one of her dresses, immaculately arranged, her hair done. If a building were burning down, Allrianne would still pause to do her makeup before escaping.

“Looks like the battle has begun,” Cett said, nodding toward the fighting.

“
Outside
the city?” Allrianne asked, riding up next to him. Then she brightened. “They’re attacking Straff’s position!”

“Yes,” Cett said. “And that leaves the city—”

“We have to help them, Father!”

Cett rolled his eyes. “You know we’re going to do nothing of the sort. We’ll see who wins. If they’re weak enough—which I hope they will be—we’ll attack them. I didn’t bring all of my forces back with me, but maybe…”

He trailed off as he noticed the look in Allrianne’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, she kicked her horse into motion.

Her guards cursed, dashing forward—too late—to try and grab her reins. Cett sat, stunned. This was a little insane, even for her. She wouldn’t dare…

She galloped down the hill toward the battle. Then she paused, as he had expected. She turned, looking back at him.

“If you want to protect me, Father,” she yelled, “you’d better charge!”

With that, she turned and started galloping again, her horse throwing up puffs of snow.

Cett didn’t move.

“My lord,” Bahmen said. “Those forces look almost evenly matched. Fifty thousand men against a force of some twelve thousand koloss and about five thousand men. If we were to add our strength to either side…”

Damn fool girl!
he thought, watching Allrianne gallop away.

“My lord?” Bahmen asked.

Why did I come to Luthadel in the first place? Was it because I really thought I could take the city? Without Allomancers, with my homeland in revolt? Or, was it because I was looking for something? A confirmation of the stories. A power like I saw on that night, when the Heir almost killed me.

How exactly did they get the koloss to fight with them, anyway?

“Gather our forces!” Cett commanded. “We’re marching to the defense of Luthadel. And somebody send riders after that fool daughter of mine!”

Sazed rode quietly, his horse moving slowly in the snow. Ahead of him, the battle raged, but he was far enough behind it to be out of danger. He’d left the city behind, where Luthadel’s surviving women and elderly watched from the walls. Vin had saved them from the koloss. The real miracle would be to see if she could save them from the other two armies.

Sazed didn’t ride into the fight. His metalminds were mostly empty, and his body was nearly as tired as his mind. He simply brought his horse to a halt, its breath puffing in the cold as he sat alone on the snowy plain.

He didn’t know how to deal with Tindwyl’s death. He felt…hollow. He wished that he could just stop feeling. He wished that he could go back and defend her gate, instead of his own. Why hadn’t he gone in search of her when he’d heard of the northern gate’s fall? She’d still been alive then. He might have been able to protect her….

Why did he even care anymore? Why bother?

But, the ones who had faith were right,
he thought.
Vin came back to defend the city. I lost hope, but they never did.

He started his horse forward again. The sounds of battle came in the distance. He tried to focus on anything but Tindwyl, but his thoughts kept returning to things he had studied with her. The facts and stories became more precious, for they were a link to her. A painful link, but one he couldn’t bear to discard.

The Hero of Ages was not simply to be a warrior,
he thought, still riding slowly toward the battlefield.
He was a person who united others, who brought them together. A leader.

He knew that Vin thought she was the Hero. But Tindwyl was right: it was too much of a coincidence. And, he wasn’t even certain what he believed anymore. If anything.

The Hero of Ages was removed from the Terris people,
he thought, watching the koloss attack.
He was not royalty himself, but came to it eventually.

Sazed pulled his horse up, pausing in the center of the open, empty field. Arrows stuck from the snow around him, and the ground was thoroughly trampled. In the distance, he heard a drum. He turned, watching as an army of men marched over a rise to the west. They flew Cett’s banner.

He commanded the forces of the world. Kings rode to his aid.

Cett’s forces joined the battle against Straff. There was a crash of metal against metal, bodies grunting, as a new front came under attack. Sazed sat on the field between the city and the armies. Vin’s forces were still outnumbered, but as Sazed watched, Straff’s army began to pull back. It broke into pieces, its members fighting without direction. Their movements bespoke terror.

She’s killing their generals,
he thought.

Cett was a clever man. He himself rode to battle, but he stayed near the back of his ranks—his infirmities requiring him to remain tied into his saddle and making it difficult for him to fight. Still, by joining the battle, he ensured that Vin would not turn her koloss on him.

For there was really no doubt in Sazed’s mind who would win this conflict. Indeed, before even an hour had passed, Straff’s troops began to surrender in large groups. The sounds of battle died down, and Sazed kicked his horse forward.

Holy First Witness,
he thought.
I don’t know that I believe that. But, either way, I should be there for what happens next.

The koloss stopped fighting, standing silently. They parted for Sazed as he rode up through their ranks. Eventually, he found Vin standing, bloodied, her massive koloss sword held on one shoulder. Some koloss pulled a man forward—a lord in rich clothing and a silvery breastplate. They dropped him before Vin.

From behind, Penrod approached with an honor guard, led by a koloss. Nobody spoke. Eventually, the koloss parted again, and this time a suspicious Cett rode forward, surrounded by a large group of soldiers and led by a single koloss.

Cett eyed Vin, then scratched his chin. “Not much of a battle,” he said.

“Straff’s soldiers were afraid,” Vin said. “They’re cold, and they have no desire to fight koloss.”

“And their leaders?” Cett asked.

“I killed them,” Vin said. “Except this one. Your name?”

“Lord Janarle,” said Straff’s man. His leg appeared broken, and koloss held him by either arm, supporting him.

“Straff is dead,” Vin said. “You control this army now.”

The nobleman bowed his head. “No, I don’t. You do.”

Vin nodded. “On your knees,” she said.

The koloss dropped Janarle. He grunted in pain, but then bowed forward. “I swear my army to you,” he whispered.

“No,” Vin said sharply. “Not to me—to the rightful heir of House Venture. He is your lord now.”

Janarle paused. “Very well,” he said. “Whatever you wish. I swear loyalty to Straff’s son, Elend Venture.”

The separate groups stood in the cold. Sazed turned as Vin did, looking at Penrod. Vin pointed at the ground. Penrod quietly dismounted, then bowed himself to the ground.

“I swear as well,” he said. “I give my loyalty to Elend Venture.”

Vin turned to Lord Cett.

“You expect this of me?” the bearded man said, amused.

“Yes,” Vin said quietly.

“And if I refuse?” Cett asked.

“Then I’ll kill you,” Vin said quietly. “You brought armies to attack my city. You threatened my people. I won’t slaughter your soldiers, make them pay for what you did, but I
will
kill you, Cett.”

Silence. Sazed turned, looking back at the lines of immobile koloss, standing in the bloodied snow.

“That is a threat, you know,” Cett said. “Your own Elend would never stand for such a thing.”

“He’s not here,” Vin said.

“And what do you think he’d say?” Cett asked. “He’d tell me not to give in to such a demand—the honorable Elend Venture would never give in simply because someone threatened his life.”

“You’re not the man that Elend is,” Vin said. “And you know it.”