Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [248]
“I’ll never doubt you again,” Galladon said dryly.
“The secret was Roial, my friend,” Raoden said, pulling the balcony door shut as he walked back into the room. “He sees through most façades—but, unlike Sarene, his primary question is not ‘Why is this man trying to fool me?’ but ‘How can I make use of what I know?’ I gave him hints, and he responded.”
Galladon nodded. “Well, you’re in. Now what will you do?”
“Find a way to put Roial on the throne instead of Telrii,” Raoden said, picking up a cloth and a jar of brown makeup. He smeared some of the makeup on the cloth, then tucked the cloth in his pocket.
Galladon raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?” he asked, nodding to the cloth.
“Something I hope I won’t have to use.”
CHAPTER 53
“What is he doing here?” Sarene demanded, standing at the doorway to Kiin’s kitchen. The idiot Kaloo sat inside, dressed in a montage of garish reds and oranges. He spoke animatedly with Kiin and Roial, and apparently hadn’t noticed her arrival.
Lukel closed the door behind her, then glanced toward the Dula with apparent distaste. Her cousin was known as one of the wittiest, most colorful men in Kae. Kaloo’s reputation, however, had quickly eclipsed even Lukel’s, leaving the young merchant a bitter second.
“Roial invited him for some reason,” Lukel muttered.
“Has Roial gone mad?” Sarene asked, perhaps more loudly than she should have. “What if that cursed Dula is a spy?”
“A spy for whom?” Kaloo asked merrily. “I don’t think your pompous king has the political acumen to hire spies—and let me assure you, no matter how much I exasperate you, Princess, I bother Fjordells even more. That gyorn would rather stab himself in the chest than pay me for information.”
Sarene flushed with embarrassment, an action that only sent Kaloo into another peal of laughter.
“I think, Sarene, you will find Citizen Kaloo’s opinions helpful,” Roial said. “This man sees things differently from Arelenes, and he also has a fresh opinion of events in Kae. I seem to remember that you yourself used a similar argument when you first joined us. Do not discount Kaloo’s value because he happens to be a little more eccentric than you find comfortable.”
Sarene frowned, but allowed herself to be rebuked. The duke’s observations held weight; it would be helpful to have a new perspective. For some reason Roial seemed to trust Kaloo. She could sense a mutual respect between them. Grudgingly, she admitted that perhaps the duke had seen something in Kaloo that she hadn’t. The Dula had, after all, been staying with Roial for several days.
Ahan was late, as usual. Shuden and Eondel spoke quietly at one end of the table, their subdued conversation a stark contrast to Kaloo’s vibrant narrative. Kiin had provided appetizers—crackers with some sort of creamy white glaze atop them. Despite her insistences that he not prepare dinner, Kiin had obviously been unable to let this many people congregate without giving them something to eat. Sarene smiled; she doubted that other treasonous conspiracies enjoyed gourmet snacks.
A few moments later, Ahan waddled in, not bothering to knock. He plopped himself down in his customary seat and proceeded to attack the crackers.
“We’re all here, then,” Sarene said, speaking sharply to interrupt Kaloo. All heads turned toward her as she stood. “I trust you all have given our predicament much thought. Does anyone want to start?”
“I will,” Ahan said. “Maybe Telrii can be persuaded not to convert to Shu-Dereth.”
Sarene sighed. “I thought we discussed this, Ahan. Telrii isn’t debating whether or not to convert; he’s waiting to see how much money he can get out of Wyrn.”
“If only we had more troops,” Roial said with a shake of his head. “With a proper army, we could intimidate Telrii. Sarene, what chance is there of getting aid from Teod?”
“Not much,” Sarene said, sitting. “Remember, my father swore himself to Shu-Dereth. Besides, Teod has a wonderful navy, but few ground troops. Our country has a small population—we survive