Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [343]
“We are a new nation, a kingdom founded on principles unknown during the days of the Lord Ruler. Yet, we are already a kingdom of tradition. Freedom for the skaa. Rule by our own choice and of our own design. Noblemen who don’t have to cower before the Lord Ruler’s obligators and Inquisitors.
“Gentlemen, one year is not enough. We have tasted freedom, and we need time to savor it. During the last month, we have frequently discussed and argued regarding what to do should this day arrive. Obviously, we are of many minds on the issue. Therefore, I ask for a vote of solidarity. Let us promise ourselves, and these people, that we will not give this city over to a foreign power without due consideration. Let us resolve to gather more information, to seek for other avenues, and even to fight should it be deemed necessary.”
The speech went on, but Vin had heard it a dozen times as Elend practiced it. As he spoke, she found herself eying the crowd. She was most worried about the obligators she saw sitting in the back. They showed little reaction to the negative light in which Elend’s remarks cast them.
She’d never understood why Elend allowed the Steel Ministry to continue teaching. It was the last real remnant of the Lord Ruler’s power. Most obligators obstinately refused to lend their knowledge of bureaucracy and administration to Elend’s government, and they still regarded skaa with contempt.
And yet, Elend let them remain. He maintained a strict rule that they were not allowed to incite rebellion or violence. However, he also didn’t eject them from the city, as Vin had suggested. Actually, if the choice had been solely hers, she probably would have executed them.
Eventually, Elend’s speech drew to a close, and Vin turned her attention back to him. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I make this proposal out of faith, and I make it in the names of those we represent. I ask for time. I propose that we forgo all votes regarding the future of the city until a proper royal delegation has been allowed to meet with the army outside and determine what, if any, opportunity there is for negotiations.”
He lowered his sheet, looking up, waiting for comments.
“So,” said Philen, one of the merchants on the Assembly. “You’re asking us to give you the power to decide the city’s fate.” Philen wore his rich suit so well that an observer would never have known that he’d first put one on about a year ago.
“What?” Elend asked. “I said nothing of the sort—I’m simply asking for more time. To meet with Straff.”
“He’s rejected all of our earlier messages,” said another Assemblyman. “What makes you think he’ll listen now?”
“We’re approaching this wrong!” said one of the noble representatives. “We should be resolving to beg Straff Venture not to attack, not resolving to meet with him and chat. We need to establish quickly that we’re willing to work with him. You’ve all seen that army. He’s planning to destroy us!”
“Please,” Elend said, raising a hand. “Let us stay on topic!”
One of the other Assemblymen—one of the skaa—spoke up, as if he hadn’t heard Elend. “You say that because you’re noble,” he said, pointing at the noble Elend had interrupted. “It’s easy for you to talk about working with Straff, since you’ve got very little to lose!”
“Very little to lose?” the nobleman said. “I and all of my house could be executed for supporting Elend against his father!”
“Bah,” said one of the merchants. “This is all pointless. We should have hired mercenaries months ago, as I’d suggested.”
“And where would we have gotten the funds for that?” asked Lord Penrod, senior of the noble Assemblymen.
“Taxes,” the merchant said with a wave of his hand.
“Gentlemen!” Elend said; then, louder, “Gentlemen!”
This garnered him some small measure of attention.
“We have to make a decision,” Elend said. “Stay focused, if you please. What of my proposal?”
“It’s pointless,” said Philen