Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [266]
“He might have converted, Hrathen,” Dilaf said, “but you are simpleminded if you think he would have allowed our troops to land on his soil.”
“You are a monster,” Hrathen whispered. “You will slaughter two kingdoms to feed your paranoia. What happened to make you hate Elantris so much?”
“Enough!” Dilaf shouted. “Do not think I won’t hesitate to kill you, Gyorn. The Dakhor are outside the law!” The monk stared at Hrathen with menacing eyes, then slowly calmed, breathing deeply as he noticed his captives again.
The still disoriented Raoden was stumbling toward his wife, who was being held by a quiet Dakhor. The prince reached out to her, his arm wavering.
“Oh,” Dilaf said, unsheathing his sword. “I forgot about you.” He smiled wickedly as he rammed the blade through Raoden’s stomach.
The pain washed over Raoden like a sudden wave of light. He hadn’t even seen the thrust coming.
He felt it, however. Groaning, he stumbled to his knees. The agony was unimaginable, even for one whose pain had been building steadily for two months. He held his stomach with trembling hands. He could feel the Dor. It felt … close.
It was too much. The woman he loved was in danger, and he could do nothing. The pain, the Dor, his failure … The soul that was Raoden crumpled beneath their combined weight, giving a final sigh of resignation.
After that there was no longer pain, for there was no longer self. There was nothing.
Sarene screamed as Raoden fell to the ground. She could see the suffering in his face, and she felt the sword as if it had been run through her own stomach. She shuddered, weeping as Raoden struggled for a moment, his legs working. Then he just … stopped.
“Failed …” Raoden whispered, his lips forming a Hoed mantra. “Failed my love. Failed….”
“Bring her,” Dilaf said. The words, spoken in Fjordell, barely registered in Sarene’s mind.
“And the others?” a monk asked.
“Gather them with the rest of the people in this accused town and take them into Elantris,” Dilaf said. “You will find the Elantrians near the center of the city, in a place that seems more cleanly.”
“We found them, my gragdet,” the monk said. “Our men have already attacked.”
“Ah, good,” Dilaf said with a hiss of pleasure. “Make certain you gather their bodies—Elantrians do not die as easily as normal men, and we do not want to let any of them escape.”
“Yes, my gragdet.”
“When you have them all in one place, bodies, Elantrians, and future Elantrians, say the purification rites. Then burn them all.”
“Yes, my gragdet,” the warrior said, bowing his head.
“Come, Hrathen,” Dilaf said. “You will accompany me to Teod.”
Sarene fell into a disbelieving stupor as they pulled her away, watching Raoden until his slumped form was no longer visible in the night.
CHAPTER 60
Galladon hid in the shadows, careful not to move until the gyorn and his strange, bare-chested companions were gone. Then, motioning to Karata, he crept up to Raoden’s body. “Sule?”
Raoden did not move.
“Doloken, Sule!” Galladon said, choked with emotion. “Don’t do this to me!”
A noise came from Raoden’s mouth, and Galladon leaned in eagerly, listening.
“Failed …” Raoden whispered. “Failed my love …” The mantra of the fallen; Raoden had joined the Hoed.
Galladon sank down on the hard cobblestones, his body shaking as he wept tearlessly. The last hour had been a horror. Galladon and Karata had been at the library, planning how to lead the people away from Elantris. They had heard the screams even at that distance, but by the time they had arrived at New Elantris, no one but Hoed remained. As far as he knew, he and Karata were the last two conscious Elantrians.
Karata placed a hand on his shoulder. “Galladon, we should go. This place is not safe.”
“No,” Galladon said, climbing to his feet. “I have a promise to keep.” He looked up at the mountain slope just outside of Kae, a slope that held a special pool of water. Then, reaching down, he tied his jacket around Raoden to cover the wound, and hefted his friend up onto his shoulder.
“Raoden made me vow to give him peace,