Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [149]
“What is she doing here?” Galladon asked.
“More importantly,” Raoden said, “what is she doing here with a dozen of Arelon’s most influential nobles? The older man near the back is Duke Roial—some say he’s the second-most-powerful man in the kingdom.”
Galladon nodded. “And I assume the young Jindo is Shuden, the Baron of Kaa Plantation?”
Raoden smiled. “I thought you were a simple farmer.”
“Shuden’s caravan route runs directly through the center of Duladel, sule. There isn’t a Dula alive who doesn’t know his name.”
“Ah,” Raoden said. “Counts Ahan and Eondel are there as well. What in Domi’s name is that woman planning?”
As if in response to Raoden’s question, Princess Sarene finished her contemplation of Elantris. She turned and walked to the back of the cart, shooing away apprehensive nobles with an intolerant hand. Then she reached up and whipped the cloth off the back of the cart, revealing its contents.
The cart was piled with food.
“Idos Domi!” Raoden cursed. “Galladon, we’re in trouble.”
Galladon regarded him with a frown. There was hunger in his eyes. “What in Doloken are you blabbering about, sule? That’s food, and my intuition tells me she’s going to give it to us. What could be wrong with that?”
“She must be doing her Widow’s Trial,” Raoden said. “Only a foreigner would think to come into Elantris.”
“Sule,” Galladon said instantly, “tell me what you’re thinking.”
“The timing is wrong, Galladon,” Raoden explained. “Our people are just starting to get a sense of independence; they’re beginning focus on the future and forget their pain. If someone hands them food now, they’ll forget everything else. For a short time they’ll be fed, but Widow’s Trials only last a few weeks. After that, it will be back to the pain, the hunger, and the self-pity. My princess out there could destroy everything we’ve been working for.”
“You’re right,” Galladon realized. “I’d almost forgotten how hungry I was until I saw that food.”
Raoden groaned.
“What?”
“What happens when Shaor hears about this? Her men will attack that cart like a pack of wolves. There’s no telling what kind of damage it would do if one of them killed a count or a baron. My father only suffers Elantris because he doesn’t have to think about it. If an Elantrian kills one of his nobles, however, he could very well decide to exterminate the lot of us.”
People were appearing in the alleys around the courtyard. None appeared to be Shaor’s men; they were the tired, wretched forms of those Elantrians who still lived on their own, wandering through the city like shades. More and more of them had been joining with Raoden—but now, with free food available, he would never get the rest of them. They would continue without thought or purpose, lost in their pain and damnation.
“Oh, my lovely princess,” Raoden whispered. “You probably mean well, but handing these people food is the worst thing you could do to them.”
Mareshe waited at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you see her?” he asked anxiously.
“We did,” Raoden said.
“What does she want?”
Before Raoden could reply, a firm, feminine voice called out of the courtyard. “I would speak with the tyrants of this city—the ones who call themselves Aanden, Karata, and Shaor. Present yourselves to me.”
“Where …?” Raoden asked with surprise.
“Remarkably well informed, isn’t she,” Mareshe noted.
“A little outdated, though,” Galladon added.
Raoden ground his teeth, thinking quickly. “Mareshe, send a runner for Karata. Tell her to meet us at the university.”
“Yes, my lord,” the man said, waving over a messenger boy.
“Oh,” Raoden said, “and have Saolin bring half of his soldiers and meet us there. He’s going to need to keep an eye on Shaor’s men.”
“I could go fetch them myself, if my lord wishes,” offered Mareshe, ever watchful for a chance to impress.
“No,” Raoden said. “You have to practice being Aanden.”
CHAPTER 23
Eondel and Shuden both insisted on going with her. Eondel kept one hand on his sword—he usually wore the weapon no matter what Arelish propriety said about them—and he watched both their guide