Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [114]
“Maybe I don’t need to know what he is doing to block him,” she said.
“It would certainly help, my lady.”
“I don’t have that luxury. But, we do know this: If the gyorn wants the people to hate the Elantrians, then it is my job to see the opposite happen.”
Ashe paused. “What are you planning, my lady?”
“You’ll see,” she said with a smile. “First, let’s get back to my rooms. I’ve wanted to speak with Father for some time now.”
“‘Ene? I’m glad you called. I’ve been worried about you.” Eventeo’s glowing head hovered before her.
“You could have sent for me at any time, Father,” Sarene said.
“I didn’t want to intrude, honey. I know how you value your independence.”
“Independence is second to duty right now, Father,” Sarene said. “Nations are falling—we don’t have time to worry about one another’s feelings.”
“I stand corrected,” her father said with a chuckle.
“What is happening in Teod, Father?”
“It isn’t good,” Eventeo warned, his voice growing uncharacteristically somber. “These are dangerous times. I just had to put down another Jeskeri Mystery cult. They always seem to spring up when an eclipse is near.”
Sarene shivered. The Mystery cultists were an odd bunch, one her father didn’t like to deal with. There was reservation in his voice, however—something else was bothering him. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“I’m afraid there is, ’Ene,” her father admitted. “Something worse.”
“What?”
“You know Ashgress, the Fjordell ambassador?”
“Yes,” Sarene said with a frown. “What has he done? Denounced you in public?”
“No, something worse.” Her father’s face looked troubled. “He left.”
“Left? The country? After all the trouble Fjorden went through to get representatives back in?”
“That’s right, ’Ene,” Eventeo said. “He took his entire entourage, made a last speech on the docks, and left us behind. There was a disturbing air of finality about the event.”
“This isn’t good,” Sarene agreed. Fjorden had been dogmatic about keeping a presence in Teod. If Ashgress had left, he had gone in response to a personal command from Wyrn. It smelled of their having given up on Teod for good.
“I’m scared, ’Ene.” The words chilled her like nothing else—her father was the strongest man she knew.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Only to you, ’Ene,” Eventeo said. “I want you to understand how serious the situation is.”
“I know,” Sarene said. “I understand. There’s a gyorn here in Kae.”
Her father muttered a few curses she had never heard him speak before.
“I think I can handle him, Father,” Sarene said quickly. “We’re keeping our eyes on one another.”
“Which one is it?”
“His name is Hrathen.”
Her father cursed again, this time even more vehemently. “Idos Domi, Sarene! Do you know who that is? Hrathen was the gyorn assigned to Duladen the six months before it collapsed.”
“I guessed that was who he was.”
“I want you out of there, Sarene,” Eventeo said. “That man is dangerous—do you know how many people died in the Duladen revolution? There were tens of thousands of casualties.”
“I know, Father.”
“I’m sending a ship for you—we’ll make our stand back here, where no gyorn is welcome.”
“I’m not leaving, Father,” Sarene said resolutely.
“Sarene, be logical.” Eventeo’s voice took on the quiet, prodding tone it did every time he wanted her to do something. He usually got his way; he was one of the few who knew how to sway her. “Everyone knows the Arelish government is a mess. If this gyorn toppled Duladen, then he’ll have no trouble doing the same to Arelon. You can’t hope to stop him when the entire country is against you.”
“I have to stay, Father, regardless of the situation.”
“What loyalty do you owe them, Sarene?” Eventeo pled. “A husband you never knew? A people who are not your own?”
“I am the daughter of their king.”
“You are the daughter of a king here as well. What is the difference? Here the people know and respect you.”
“They know me, Father, but