Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [432]
And there was nothing he could do. He felt impotent, forced to keep ducking down lest his white uniform make him a target. All of his politicking, all of his preparations, all of his dreams and his plans. Gone.
And then Vin was there. She landed atop the wall, breathing hard, amid a group of wounded men. Coins and arrows that came near to her deflected back out into the air. Men rallied around her, moving to remove hooks and pull the wounded to safety. Her knives cut ropes, dropping them back down below. She met Elend’s eyes, looking determined, then moved as if to leap over the side of the wall and confront the Thugs with their battering ram.
Elend raised a hand, but someone else spoke.
“Vin, wait!” Clubs bellowed, bursting out of the stairwell.
She paused. Elend had never heard such a forceful command from the gnarled general.
Arrows stopped flying. The booming calmed. Elend stood hesitantly, watching with a frown as the army retreated back across the ash-strewn fields toward their camp. They left a couple of corpses behind; Elend’s men had actually managed to hit a few with their arrows. His own army had taken far heavier casualties: some two dozen men appeared to be wounded.
“What…?” Elend asked, turning to Clubs.
“They weren’t putting up scaling ladders,” Clubs said, eyeing the retreating force. “This wasn’t an actual attack.”
“What was it then?” Vin asked, frowning.
“A test,” Clubs said. “It’s common in warfare—a quick skirmish to see how your enemy responds, to feel out their tactics and preparations.”
Elend turned, watching the disorganized soldiers make way for healers to care for the wounded. “A test,” he said, glancing at Clubs. “My guess is that we didn’t do very well.”
Clubs shrugged. “Far worse than we should have. Maybe this will scare the lads into paying better attention during drills.” He paused, and Elend could see something he wasn’t expressing. Worry.
Elend glanced out over the wall, watching the retreating army. Suddenly, it made sense. It was exactly the kind of move that his father liked to make.
The meeting with Straff would take place as planned. However, before it happened, Straff wanted Elend to know something.
I can take this city any time, the attack seemed to say. It’s mine, no matter what you do. Remember that.
26
He was forced into war by a misunderstanding—and always claimed he was no warrior—yet he came to fight as well as any man.
“This is not a good idea, Mistress.” OreSeur sat on his haunches, watching Vin unpack a large, flat box.
“Elend thinks it’s the only way,” she said, pulling off the top of the box. The luxurious blue dress lay wrapped within. She pulled it out, noting its comparatively light weight. She walked over to the changing screen and began to disrobe.
“And the assault on the walls yesterday?” OreSeur asked.
“That was a warning,” she said, continuing to unbutton her shirt. “Not a serious attack.” Though, apparently, it had really unsettled the Assembly. Perhaps that had been the point. Clubs could say all he wished about strategy and testing the walls, but from Vin’s standpoint, the thing Straff had gained most was even more fear and chaos inside Luthadel.
Only a few weeks of being besieged, and the city was already strained near to breaking. Food was terribly expensive, and Elend had been forced to open the city stockpiles. The people were on edge. Some few thought the attack had been a victory for Luthadel, taking it as a good sign that the army had been “repelled.” Most, however, were simply even more scared than they had been before.
But, again, Vin was left with a conundrum. How to react, facing such an overpowering force? Cower, or try to continue with life? Straff had tested the walls, true—but he had maintained the larger part of his army back and in position, should Cett have tried to make an opportunistic attack at that time. He’d wanted information, and he’d wanted to intimidate the city.
“I still don’t know if this meeting is a good idea,” OreSeur said. “The attack aside,