Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [116]
“I have to. What we find could end up saving thousands, though that doesn’t make it any easier. I just wish I could get someone into Dakhor.”
“The monastery?”
“Yes,” Eventeo said. “We know what the other monasteries do—Rathbore trains assassins, Fjeldor spies, and most of the others simple warriors. Dakhor, however, worries me. I’ve heard some horrible stories about that monastery—and I can’t fathom why anyone, even the Derethi, would do such things.”
“Does it look like Fjorden’s massing for war?”
“I can’t tell—it doesn’t appear so, but who knows. Wyrn could send a multination army in our direction at almost a moment’s notice. One small consolation is I don’t think he knows we understand that fact. Unfortunately, the knowledge does put me in a difficult position.”
“What do you mean?”
Her father’s voice was hesitant. “If Wyrn declares holy war on us, then it will mean the end of Teod. We can’t stand against the united might of the Eastern countries, ’Ene. I will not sit back and watch my people be slaughtered.”
“You would consider surrendering?” Sarene asked with outrage.
“A king’s duty is to protect his people. When faced with the choice of conversion or letting my people be destroyed, I think I would have to choose conversion.”
“You would be as spineless as the Jindoeese,” Sarene said.
“The Jindoeese are a wise people, Sarene,” her father said, his voice growing firm. “They did what they needed to survive.”
“But that would mean giving up!”
“It would mean doing what we have to do,” her father said. “I won’t do anything yet. As long as there are two nations left, we have hope. However, if Arelon falls, I will be forced to surrender. We cannot fight the entire world, ’Ene, no more than one grain of sand can fight an entire ocean.”
“But …” Sarene’s voice trailed off. She could see her father’s predicament. Fighting Fjorden on the battlefield would be an exercise in complete futility. Convert or die—both options were sickening, but conversion was obviously the more logical choice. However, a quiet voice inside her argued that it was worth dying, if death would prove that truth was more powerful than physical strength.
She had to make sure her father was never given that choice. If she could stop Hrathen, then she might be able to stop Wyrn. For a time, at least.
“I’m definitely staying, Father,” she declared.
“I know, ’Ene. It will be dangerous.”
“I understand. However, if Arelon does fall, then I would probably rather be dead than watch what happens in Teod.”
“Be careful, and keep an eye on that gyorn. Oh, by the way—if you find out why Wyrn is sinking Iadon’s ships, tell me.”
“What?” Sarene asked with shock.
“You didn’t know?”
“Know what?” Sarene demanded.
“King Iadon has lost nearly his entire merchant fleet. The official reports claim that the sinkings are the work of pirates, some remnant of Dreok Crushthroat’s navy. However, my sources link the sinkings with Fjorden.”
“So that’s what it was!” Sarene said.
“What?”
“Four days ago I was at a party,” Sarene explained. “A servant delivered a message to the king, and whatever it was unsettled the king a great deal.”
“That would be about the right time frame,” her father said. “I found out two days ago myself.”
“Why would Wyrn sink innocent merchant vessels?” Sarene wondered. “Unless … Idos Domi! If the king loses his income, then he would be in danger of losing his throne!”
“Is all that nonsense about rank being tied to money true?”
“Insanely true,” Sarene said. “Iadon takes away a family’s title if they can’t maintain their income. If he lost his own source of wealth, it would destroy the foundation of his rule. Hrathen could replace him with someone else—a man more willing to accept Shu-Dereth—without even bothering to start a revolution.”
“It sounds feasible. Iadon asked for such a situation by concocting such an unstable basis for rule.”
“It’s probably Telrii,” Sarene said. “That’s why he spent so much money on that ball—the duke wants to show that