For some reason she had stopped wearing those. She hadn’t ever explained why.
Elend shook his head, turning back to his proposal. Next to Vin, politics seemed simplistic. She rested her arms on the desktop, watching him work, yawning.
“You should get some rest,” he said, dipping his pen again.
Vin paused, then nodded. She removed her mistcloak, wrapped it around herself, then curled up on the rug beside his desk.
Elend paused. “I didn’t mean here, Vin,” he said with amusement.
“There’s still a Mistborn out there somewhere,” she said with a tired, muffled voice. “I’m not leaving you.” She twisted in the cloak, and Elend caught a brief grimace of pain on her face. She was favoring her left side.
She didn’t often tell him the details of her fights. She didn’t want to worry him. It didn’t help.
Elend pushed down his concern and forced himself to start reading again. He was almost finished—just a bit more and—
A knock came at his door.
Elend turned with frustration, wondering at this new interruption. Ham poked his head in the doorway a second later.
“Ham?” Elend said. “You’re still awake?”
“Unfortunately,” Ham said, stepping into the room.
“Mardra is going to kill you for working late again,” Elend said, setting down his pen. Complain though he might about some of Vin’s quirks, at least she shared Elend’s nocturnal habits.
Ham just rolled his eyes at the comment. He still wore his standard vest and trousers. He’d agreed to be the captain of Elend’s guard on a single condition: that he would never have to wear a uniform. Vin cracked an eye as Ham wandered into the room, then relaxed again.
“Regardless,” Elend said. “To what do I owe the visit?”
“I thought you might want to know that we identified those assassins who tried to kill Vin.”
Elend nodded. “Probably men I know.” Most Allomancers were noblemen, and he was familiar with all of those in Straff’s retinue.
“Actually, I doubt it,” Ham said. “They were Westerners.”
Elend paused, frowning, and Vin perked up. “You’re sure?”
Ham nodded. “Makes it a bit unlikely that your father sent them—unless he’s done some heavy recruiting in Fadrex City. They were of Houses Gardre and Conrad, mostly.”
Elend sat back. His father was based in Urteau, hereditary home of the Venture family. Fadrex was halfway across the empire from Urteau, several months’ worth of travel. The chances were slim that his father would have access to a group of Western Allomancers.
“Have you heard of Ashweather Cett?” Ham asked.
Elend nodded. “One of the men who’s set himself up as king in the Western Dominance. I don’t know much about him.”
Vin frowned, sitting. “You think he sent these?”
Ham nodded. “They must have been waiting for a chance to slip into the city, and the traffic at the gates these last few days would have provided the opportunity. That makes the arrival of Straff’s army and the attack on Vin’s life something of a coincidence.”
Elend glanced at Vin. She met his eyes, and he could tell that she wasn’t completely convinced that Straff hadn’t sent the assassins. Elend, however, wasn’t so skeptical. Pretty much every tyrant in the area had tried to take him out at one point or another. Why not Cett?
It’s that atium, Elend thought with frustration. He’d never found the Lord Ruler’s cache—but that didn’t stop the despots in the empire from assuming he was hiding it somewhere.
“Well, at least your father didn’t send the assassins,” Ham said, ever the optimist.
Elend shook his head. “Our relationship wouldn’t stop him, Ham. Trust me.”
“He’s your father,” Ham said, looking troubled.
“Things like that don’t matter to Straff. He probably hasn’t sent assassins because he doesn’t think I’m worth the trouble. If we last long enough, though, he will.”
Ham shook his head. “I’ve heard of sons killing their fathers to take their place … but fathers killing their sons … I wonder what that says about old Straff’s mind, that he’d be willing to kill you. You think that—”
“Ham?” Elend interrupted.
“Hum?”
“You know I’m usually good for a discussion, but I don’t really have time for philosophy right now.”
“Oh, right.” Ham smiled wanly, standing and moving to go. “I should get back to Mardra anyway.”
Elend nodded, rubbing his forehead and picking up his pen yet again. “Make sure you gather the crew for a meeting. We need to organize our allies, Ham. If we don’t come up with something incredibly clever, this kingdom may be doomed.”
Ham turned back, still smiling. “You make it sound so desperate, El.”
Elend looked over at him. “The Assembly is a mess, a half-dozen warlords with superior armies are breathing down my neck, barely a month passes without someone sending assassins to kill me, and the woman I love is slowly driving me insane.”
Vin snorted at this last part.
“Oh, is that all?” Ham said. “See? It’s not so bad after all. I mean, we could be facing an immortal god and his all-powerful priests instead.”
Elend paused, then chuckled despite himself. “Good night, Ham,” he said, turning back to his proposal.
“Good night, Your Majesty.”
Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I am mad, or jealous, or simply daft. My name is Kwaan. Philosopher, scholar, traitor. I am the one who discovered Alendi, and I am the one who first proclaimed him to be the Hero of Ages. I am the one who started this all.
4
THE BODY SHOWED NO OVERT wounds. It still lay where it had fallen—the other villagers had been afraid to move it. Its arms and legs were twisted in awkward positions, the dirt around it scuffed from predeath thrashings.
Sazed reached out, running his fingers along one of the marks. Though the soil here in the Eastern Dominance held far more clay than soil did in the north, it was still more black than it was brown. Ashfalls came even this far south. Ashless soil, washed clean and fertilized, was a luxury used only for the ornamental plants of noble gardens. The rest of the world had to do what it could with untreated soil.
“You say that he was alone when he died?” Sazed asked, turning to the small cluster of villagers standing behind him.
A leather-skinned man nodded. “Like I said, Master Terrisman. He was just standing there, no one else about. He paused, then he fell and wiggled on the ground for a bit. After that, he just … stopped moving.”
Sazed turned back to the corpse, studying the twisted muscles, the face locked in a mask of pain. Sazed had brought his medical coppermind—the metal armband wrapped around his upper right arm—and he reached into it with his mind, pulling out some of the memorized books he had stored therein. Yes, there were some diseases that killed with shakes and spasms. They rarely took a man so suddenly, but it sometimes happened. If it hadn’t been for other circumstances, Sazed would have paid the death little heed.