Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [58]
Raoden clasped Saolin on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that the grizzled soldier didn’t have a sword to pledge anymore. “I appreciate and accept your protection, friend. But I warn you, this is no easy burden you take upon yourself. I’m quickly amassing enemies in here, and it is going to require a great deal of vigilance to make sure we aren’t surprised by an attack.”
“I understand, my lord,” Saolin said fervently. “But, by Domi, I won’t let you down!”
“And what of us, my lord?” asked Riil the builder.
“I have a grand project in store for you two as well,” Raoden said. “Look up and tell me what you see.”
Riil raised his eyes to the sky, his eyes confused. “I see nothing, my lord. Should I?”
Raoden laughed. “Not a thing, Riil. That’s the problem—the roof to this building must have fallen in years ago. Despite that, it’s one of the largest and least-degenerate buildings I’ve found. I don’t suppose your training included some experience in roof building?”
Riil smiled. “It certainly did, my lord. You have materials?”
“That’s going to be the tricky part, Riil. All of the wood in Elantris is either broken or rotted.”
“That is a problem,” Riil acknowledged. “Perhaps if we dried out the wood, then mixed it with clay….”
“It isn’t an easy task, Riil, Maare,” Raoden said.
“We’ll give it our best try, my lord,” Maare assured him.
“Good,” Raoden said with an approving nod. His bearing, coupled with their insecurity, made them quick to listen. It wasn’t loyalty, not yet. Hopefully, time would gain him their trust as well as their words.
“Now, Mareshe,” Raoden continued, “please explain to our new friends about what it means to be an Elantrian. I don’t want Riil falling off the top of a building before he realizes breaking his neck won’t necessarily mean an end to the pain.”
“Yes, my lord,” Mareshe said, eyeing the newcomers’ food, which was sitting on a relatively clean section of the floor. The hunger was affecting him already.
Raoden carefully chose a few items from offerings, then nodded to the rest. “Divide this up amongst yourselves and eat it. Saving it won’t do any good—the hunger is going to start immediately, and you might as well get this down before it has time to make you greedy.”
The four nodded, and Mareshe began to explain the limitations of life in Elantris as he divided the food. Raoden watched for a moment, then turned away to think.
“Sule, my hama would love you. She always complained that I don’t get enough exercise.” Raoden looked up as Galladon strode into the room.
“Welcome back, my friend,” Raoden said with a smile. “I was beginning to worry.”
Galladon snorted. “I didn’t see you worrying when you shoved me out into that courtyard. Seen worms on hooks treated more kindly. Kolo?”
“Ah, but you made such fantastic bait,” Raoden said. “Besides, it worked. We got the newcomers, and you appear remarkably bruise-free.”
“A state of being that is most likely a source of grand displeasure to Shaor’s dogs.”
“How did you escape them?” Raoden asked, handing Galladon the loaf of bread he had grabbed for the Dula. Galladon regarded it, then ripped it in half and offered one part to Raoden, who held up his hand forestallingly.
Galladon shrugged an “okay, starve if it suits you” shrug, and began to gnaw on the loaf. “Ran into a building with a collapsed set of stairs, then went out the back door,” he explained between mouthfuls. “I threw some rocks up onto the roof when Shaor’s men entered. After what you did to them the other day, they just assumed I was up there. They’re probably still sitting there waiting for me.”
“Smooth,” Raoden said.
“Somebody didn’t leave me much choice.”
Galladon continued to eat in quiet, listening to the newcomers discuss their various “important duties.” “You going to tell all of them that?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“What’s that?”
“The newcomers, sule. You made them all think they are of vital