Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [193]
Sarene wavered between her body’s urge to retch and her mind’s insistence that she scream.
The scream came out on top.
She stumbled backward, slipping and splashing down into the slime. The figures rushed for her, their cowled eyes intent. Sarene kicked and struggled in the slime, still screaming as she tried to regain her feet. She almost missed the sounds of footsteps from her right.
Then Eondel was there.
The aged general’s sword flashed in the dim light, cleanly slicing off an arm that was reaching for Sarene’s ankle. Other figures moved through the corridor as well, men in the livery of Eondel’s legion. There was also a man in a red robe—Dilaf, the Derethi priest. He didn’t join the fighting, but stood to the side with a fascinated look on his face.
Dumbfounded, Sarene tried to stand again, but only ended up slipping in the sewage once more. A hand grabbed her arm, helping her up. Roial’s wrinkled face smiled in relief as he pulled Sarene to her feet.
“Maybe next time you’ll tell me what you are planning, Princess,” he suggested.
“You told him,” Sarene realized, shooting Ashe an accusatory look.
“Of course I told him, my lady,” the Seon responded, pulsing slightly to punctuate the remark. She sat in Roial’s study with Ashe and Lukel. Sarene wore a robe that the duke had borrowed from one of his maids. It was too short, of course, but it was better than a sewage-covered velvet dress.
“When?” Sarene demanded, leaning back in Roial’s deep plush couch and wrapping herself in a blanket. The duke had ordered a bath drawn for her, and her hair was still wet, chilled in the night air.
“He called Opa as soon as you left my drive,” Roial explained, walking into the room, carrying three steaming cups. He handed one to her and another to Lukel before taking a seat.
“That soon?” Sarene asked with surprise.
“I knew you would never turn back, no matter what I said,” Ashe said.
“You know me too well,” she muttered, taking a sip of her drink. It was Fjordell garha—which was good; she couldn’t afford to fall asleep just yet.
“I will admit to that failing without argument, my lady,” Ashe said.
“Then why did you try and stop me before leading me into the sewer?” she asked.
“I was stalling, my lady,” Ashe explained. “The duke insisted on coming himself, and his group moved slowly.”
“I might be slow, but I was not going to miss whatever you had planned, Sarene,” Roial said. “They say age brings wisdom, but it only gave me a torturous case of curiosity.”
“Eondel’s soldiers?” Sarene asked.
“Were already at the party,” Lukel said. He had insisted on knowing what had happened as soon as he saw Sarene sneaking into Roial’s house, covered in slime. “I saw some of them mingling with the guests.”
“I invited Eondel’s officers,” Roial explained. “Or, at least, the half-dozen of them that were in town.”
“All right,” Sarene said. “So after I ran off, Ashe called your Seon and told you I was pursuing the king.”
“‘The foolish girl is going off to get herself killed’ were his exact words, I believe,” Roial said with a chuckle.
“Ashe!”
“I apologize, my lady,” the Seon said, pulsing in embarrassment. “I was rather out of sorts.”
“Anyway,” Sarene continued, “Ashe called Roial and he gathered Eondel and his men from the party. You all followed me to the sewers, where you had your Seon guide you.”
“Until Eondel heard you screaming,” Roial finished. “You are a very lucky lady to have that man’s loyalty, Sarene.”
“I know,” Sarene said. “That’s the second time this week his sword has proved useful. Next time I see Iadon, remind me to kick him for convincing the nobility that military training is beneath them.”
Roial chuckled. “You might have to stand in line to do that kicking, Princess. I doubt the city’s priests—Derethi or Korathi—will let the king get away with taking part in the Jeskeri Mysteries.”
“And sacrificing that poor woman,” Ashe said quietly.