Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [145]
“Sule, behind you!”
Raoden turned with surprise at Galladon’s warning, sliding on the slimy cobblestones and slipping to the ground. The fall saved him. As he grappled for purchase, Raoden felt something whoosh through the air above him. The leaping madman howled in frustration as he missed and smashed through the fence, rotten wood chips spraying through the air.
Raoden stumbled to his feet. The madman moved far more quickly. Bald and nearly naked, the man howled as he ripped his way through the rest of the fence, growling and tearing at the wood like a mad hound.
Galladon’s board smacked the man directly in the face. Then, while the man was stunned, Galladon grabbed a cobblestone and smashed it against the side of the man’s head. The madman collapsed and did not rise.
Galladon straightened. “They’re getting stronger somehow, sule,” he said, dropping his cobblestone. “They seem almost oblivious to pain. Kolo?”
Raoden nodded, calming his nerves. “They haven’t been able to capture a newcomer in weeks. They’re getting desperate, falling more and more into their bestial state. I’ve heard of warriors who grow so enraged during combat that they ignore even mortal wounds.” Raoden paused as Galladon poked at the attacker’s body with a stick to make sure he wasn’t feigning.
“Maybe they’ve found the final secret to stopping the pain,” Raoden said quietly.
“All they have to do is surrender their humanity,” Galladon said, shaking his head as they continued to sneak through what had been the Elantris market. They passed piles of rusted metal and crushed ceramics etched with Aons. Once these scraps had produced wondrous effects, their powerful magics demanding unparalleled prices. Now they were little more than obstacles for Raoden to avoid, lest they crunch noisily beneath his feet.
“We should have brought Saolin,” Galladon said quietly.
Raoden shook his head. “Saolin is a wonderful soldier and a good man, but he’s completely lacking in stealth. Even I can hear him approaching. Besides, he would have insisted on bringing a group of his guards. He refuses to believe I can protect myself.”
Galladon glanced at the fallen madman, then back at Raoden with sardonic eyes. “Whatever you say, sule.”
Raoden smiled slightly. “All right,” he admitted, “he might have been useful. However, his men would have insisted on pampering me. Honestly, I thought I’d left that sort of thing behind in my father’s palace.”
“Men protect things they find important,” Galladon said with a shrug. “If you object, you shouldn’t have made yourself so irreplaceable. Kolo?”
“Point taken,” Raoden said with a sigh. “Come on.”
They fell quiet as they continued their infiltration. Galladon had protested for hours when Raoden had explained his plan to sneak in and confront Shaor. The Dula had called it foolhardy, pointless, dangerous, and just plain stupid. He hadn’t, however, been willing to let Raoden go alone.
Raoden knew the plan probably was foolhardy, pointless, and all the other things Galladon said. Shaor’s men would rip them apart without a second thought—probably without even a first thought, considering their mental state. However, during the last week, Shaor’s men had tried to capture the garden three more times. Saolin’s guards were collecting more and more wounds while Shaor’s men seemed to be getting even more feral and wild.
Raoden shook his head. While his troop was growing, most of his followers were physically weak. Shaor’s men, however, were frighteningly strong—and every one of them was a warrior. Their rage gave them strength, and Raoden’s followers couldn’t stand against them for much longer.
Raoden had to find Shaor. If only he could speak with the man, he was sure they could find a compromise. It was said that Shaor himself never went on the raids. Everyone referred to the band as “Shaor’s men,” but no one could ever