TenSoon rubbed the thighbone with a reverent finger, listening to VarSell’s laughter. The Fifth had no way of knowing that he’d just given TenSoon the means he needed to escape.
The Balance. Is it real?
We’ve almost forgotten this little bit of lore. Skaa used to talk about it, before the Collapse. Philosophers discussed it a great deal in the third and fourth centuries, but by Kelsier’s time, it was mostly a forgotten topic.
But it was real. There was a physiological difference between skaa and nobility. When the Lord Ruler altered mankind to make them more capable of dealing with ash, he changed other things as well. Some groups of people—the noblemen—were created to be less fertile, but taller, stronger, and more intelligent. Others—the skaa—were made to be shorter, hardier, and to have many children.
The changes were slight, however, and after a thousand years of interbreeding, the differences had largely been erased.
25
“FADREX CITY,” ELEND SAID, STANDING in his customary place near the narrowboat’s prow. Ahead, the broad Conway Canal—the primary canal route to the west—continued into the distance, turning to the northwest. To Elend’s left, the ground rose in a broken incline, forming a set of steep rock formations. He could see them rising much higher in the distance.
Closer to the canal, however, a broad city was nestled in the very center of a large group of rock formations. The deep red and orange rocks were the type left behind when wind and rain wore away weaker sections of stone, and many of them reached high, like spires. Others formed jagged, hedge-like barriers—like stacks of enormous blocks that had been fused together, reaching some thirty and forty feet into the air.
Elend could barely see the tips of the city’s buildings over the stone formations. Fadrex had no formal city wall, of course—only Luthadel had been allowed one of those—but the rising rocks around the city formed a set of terrace-like natural fortifications.
Elend had been to the city before. His father had made certain to introduce him in all of the Final Empire’s main cultural centers. Fadrex hadn’t been one of those, but it had been on the way to Tremredare, once known as the capital of the West. In forging his new kingdom, however, Cett had ignored Tremredare, instead establishing his capital in Fadrex. A clever move, in Elend’s estimation—Fadrex was smaller, more defensible, and had been a major supply station for numerous canal routes.
“The city looks different from the last time I was here,” Elend said.
“Trees,” Ham said, standing beside him. “Fadrex used to have trees growing on the rocky shelves and plateaus.” Ham glanced at him. “They’re ready for us. They cut down the trees to provide a better killing field and to keep us from sneaking up close.”
Elend nodded. “Look down there.”
Ham squinted, though it obviously took him a moment to pick out what Elend’s tin-enhanced eyes had noticed. On the northern side of the city—the one closest to the main canal route—the rock terraces and shelves fell down into a natural canyon. Perhaps twenty feet across, it was the only way into the city, and the defenders had cut several troughs into the floor. They were bridged at the moment, of course, but getting through that narrow entryway, with pits in front of the army and archers presumably firing from the rocky shelves above, with a gate at the end …
“Not bad,” Ham said. “I’m just glad they decided not to drain the canal on us.”
As they’d moved west, the land had risen—requiring the convoy to pass through several massive lock mechanisms. The last four had been jammed intentionally, requiring hours of effort to get them working.
“They rely on it too much,” Elend said. “If they survive our siege, they’ll need to ship in supplies. Assuming any can be had.”
Ham fell silent. Finally, he turned, looking back up the dark canal behind them. “El,” he said. “I don’t think that much more will be traveling this canal. The boats barely made it this far—there’s too much ash clogging it. If we go home, we’ll do so on foot.”
“‘If’ we go home?”
Ham shrugged. Despite the colder western weather, he still wore only a vest. Now that Elend was an Allomancer, he could finally understand the habit. While burning pewter, Elend barely felt the chill, though several of the soldiers had complained about it in the mornings.
“I don’t know, El,” Ham finally said. “It just seems portentous to me. Our canal closing behind us as we travel. Kind of like fate is trying to strand us here.”
“Ham,” Elend said, “everything seems portentous to you. We’ll be fine.”
Ham shrugged.
“Organize our forces,” Elend said, pointing. “Dock us in that inlet over there, and set up camp on the mesa.”
Ham nodded. He was still looking backward, however. Toward Luthadel, which they had left behind.
They don’t fear the mists, Elend thought, staring up through the darkness at the rocky formations that marked the entrance into Fadrex City. Bonfires blazed up there, lighting the night. Often, such lights were futile—signifying man’s fear of the mists. These fires were different, somehow. They seemed a warning; a bold declaration of confidence. They burned brightly, high, as if floating in the sky.
Elend turned, walking into his illuminated commander’s tent, where a small group of people sat waiting for him. Ham, Cett, and Vin. Demoux was absent, still recovering from mistsickness.
We’re spread thin, Elend thought. Spook and Breeze in the North, Penrod back at Luthadel, Felt watching the storage cache in the East …
“All right,” Elend said, letting the tent flaps close behind him. “Looks like they’re holed up in there pretty well.”
“Initial scout reports are in, El,” Ham said. “We’re guessing about twenty-five thousand defenders.”
“Not as many as I expected,” Elend said.
“That bastard Yomen has to keep control of the rest of my kingdom,” Cett said. “If he pulled all of his troops into the capital, the other cities would overthrow him.”
“What?” Vin asked, sounding amused. “You think they’d rebel and switch back to your side?”
“No,” Cett said, “they’d rebel and try to take over the kingdom themselves! That’s the way this works. Now that the Lord Ruler is gone, every little lord or petty obligator with half a taste of power thinks he can run a kingdom. Hell, I tried it—so did you.”
“We were successful,” Ham pointed out.
“And so was Lord Yomen,” Elend said, folding his arms. “He’s held this kingdom since Cett marched on Luthadel.”
“He all but forced me out,” Cett admitted. “He had half the nobility turned against me before I even struck toward Luthadel. I said I was leaving him in charge, but we both knew the truth. He’s a clever one—clever enough to know he can hold that city against a larger force, letting him spread his troops out to maintain the kingdom, and to endure a longer siege without running out of supplies.”
“Unfortunately, Cett’s probably right,” Ham said. “Our initial reports placed Yomen’s forces at somewhere around eighty thousand men. He’d be a fool to not have a few units within striking distance of our camp. We’ll have to be wary of raids.”