They reached the top of the stairs, and the servant asked if he wished a bath drawn. Sazed shook his head. In most other circumstances he would have welcomed the opportunity to get clean. However, running all the way to the Central Dominance, being captured by the koloss, then marching the rest of the way up to Luthadel had left him wearied to the farthest fringe of exhaustion. He’d barely had the strength to eat. Now he just wanted to sleep.
The servant nodded and led Sazed down a side corridor.
What if he was imagining connections that didn’t exist? Every scholar knew that one of the greatest dangers in research was the desire to find a specific answer. He had not imagined the testimonies he had taken, but had he exaggerated their importance? What did he really have? The words of a frightened man who had seen his friend die of a seizure? The testimony of a lunatic, crazed to the point of cannibalism? The fact remained that Sazed himself had never seen the mists kill.
The servant led him to a guest chamber, and Sazed thankfully bid the man good night. He watched the man walk away, holding only a candle, his lamp left for Sazed to use. During most of Sazed’s life, he had belonged to a class of servants prized for their refined sense of duty and decorum. He’d been in charge of households and manors, supervising servants just like the one who had led him to his rooms.
Another life, he thought. He had always been a little frustrated that his duties as a steward had left him little time for study. How ironic it was that he should help overthrow the Final Empire, then find himself with even less time.
He reached to push open the door, and froze almost immediately. There was already a light inside the room.
Did they leave a lamp on for me? he wondered. He slowly pushed the door open. Someone was waiting for him.
“Tindwyl,” Sazed said quietly. She sat beside the room’s writing desk, collected and neatly dressed, as always.
“Sazed,” she replied as he stepped in, shutting the door. Suddenly, he was even more acutely aware of his dirty robes.
“You responded to my request,” he said.
“And you ignored mine.”
Sazed didn’t meet her eyes. He walked over, setting his lamp on top of the room’s bureau. “I noticed the king’s new clothing, and he appears to have gained a bearing to match them. You have done well, I think.”
“We are only just started,” she said dismissively. “You were right about him.”
“King Venture is a very good man,” Sazed said, walking to the washbasin to wipe down his face. He welcomed the cold water; dealing with Tindwyl was bound to tire him even further.
“Good men can make terrible kings,” Tindwyl noted.
“But bad men cannot make good kings,” Sazed said. “It is better to start with a good man and work on the rest, I think.”
“Perhaps,” Tindwyl said. She watched him with her normal hard expression. Others thought her cold—harsh, even. But Sazed had never seen that in her. Considering what she had been through, he found it remarkable—amazing, even—that she was so confident. Where did she get it?
“Sazed, Sazed …” she said. “Why did you return to the Central Dominance? You know the directions the Synod gave you. You are supposed to be in the Eastern Dominance, teaching the people on the borders of the burnlands.”
“That is where I was,” Sazed said. “And now I am here. The South will get along for a time without me, I think.”
“Oh?” Tindwyl asked. “And who will teach them irrigation techniques, so they can produce enough food to survive the cold months? Who will explain to them basic lawmaking principles so that they may govern themselves? Who will show them how to reclaim their lost faiths and beliefs? You were always so passionate about that.”
Sazed set down the washcloth. “I will return to teach them when I am certain there is not a greater work I need to do.”
“What greater work could there be?” Tindwyl demanded. “This is our life’s duty, Sazed. This is the work of our entire people. I know that Luthadel is important to you, but there is nothing for you here. I will care for your king. You must go.”
“I appreciate your work with King Venture,” Sazed said. “My course has little to do with him, however. I have other research to do.”
Tindwyl frowned, eyeing him with a cool stare. “You’re still looking for this phantom connection of yours. This foolishness with the mists.”
“There is something wrong, Tindwyl,” he said.
“No,” Tindwyl said, sighing. “Can’t you see, Sazed? You spent ten years working to overthrow the Final Empire. Now, you can’t content yourself with regular work, so you have invented some grand threat to the land. You’re afraid of being irrelevant.”
Sazed looked down. “Perhaps. If you are correct, then I will seek the forgiveness of the Synod. I should probably seek it anyway, I think.”
“Oh, Sazed,” Tindwyl said, shaking her head slightly. “I can’t understand you. It makes sense when young fire-heads like Vedzan and Rindel buck the Synod’s advice. But you? You are the soul of what it means to be Terris—so calm, so humble, so careful and respectful. So wise. Why are you the one who consistently defies our leaders? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I am not so wise as you think, Tindwyl,” Sazed said quietly. “I am simply a man who must do as he believes. Right now, I believe there to be a danger in the mists, and I must investigate my impressions. Perhaps it is simply arrogance and foolishness. But I would rather be known as arrogant and foolish than risk danger to the people of this land.”
“You will find nothing.”
“Then I will be proven wrong,” Sazed said. He turned, looking into her eyes. “But kindly remember that the last time I disobeyed the Synod, the result was the collapse of the Final Empire and the freedom of our people.”
Tindwyl made a tight-lipped frown. She didn’t like being reminded of that fact—none of the Keepers did. They held that Sazed had been wrong to disobey, but they couldn’t very well punish him for his success.
“I don’t understand you,” she repeated quietly. “You should be a leader among our people, Sazed. Not our greatest rebel and dissident. Everyone wants to look up to you—but they can’t. Must you defy every order you are given?”
He smiled wanly, but did not answer.
Tindwyl sighed, rising. She walked toward the door, but paused, taking his hand as she passed. She looked into his eyes for a moment; then he removed the hand.
She shook her head and left.
He commanded kings, and though he sought no empire, he became greater than all who had come before.
24
SOMETHING IS GOING ON, VIN thought, sitting in the mists atop Keep Venture.
Sazed was not prone to exaggeration. He was meticulous—that much showed in his mannerisms, his cleanliness, and even the way he spoke. And, he was even more meticulous when it came to his studies. Vin was inclined to believe his discoveries.
And she’d certainly seen things in the mists. Dangerous things. Could the mist spirit explain the deaths Sazed had encountered? But, if that’s the case, why didn’t Sazed speak of figures in the mist?