Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [746]
Ham fell silent. Finally, he turned, looking back up the dark canal behind them. “El,” he said. “I don’t think that much more will be traveling this canal. The boats barely made it this far—there’s too much ash clogging it. If we go home, we’ll do so on foot.”
“ ‘If’ we go home?”
Ham shrugged. Despite the colder western weather, he still wore only a vest. Now that Elend was an Allomancer, he could finally understand the habit. While burning pewter, Elend barely felt the chill, though several of the soldiers had complained about it in the mornings.
“I don’t know, El,” Ham finally said. “It just seems portentous to me. Our canal closing behind us as we travel. Kind of like fate is trying to strand us here.”
“Ham,” Elend said, “everything seems portentous to you. We’ll be fine.”
Ham shrugged.
“Organize our forces,” Elend said, pointing. “Dock us in that inlet over there, and set up camp on the mesa.”
Ham nodded. He was still looking backward, however. Toward Luthadel, which they had left behind.
They don’t fear the mists, Elend thought, staring up through the darkness at the rocky formations that marked the entrance into Fadrex City. Bonfires blazed up there, lighting the night. Often, such lights were futile—signifying man’s fear of the mists. These fires were different, somehow. They seemed a warning; a bold declaration of confidence. They burned brightly, high, as if floating in the sky.
Elend turned, walking into his illuminated commander’s tent, where a small group of people sat waiting for him. Ham, Cett, and Vin. Demoux was absent, still recovering from mistsickness.
We’re spread thin, Elend thought. Spook and Breeze in the North, Penrod back at Luthadel, Felt watching the storage cache in the East . . .
“All right,” Elend said, letting the tent flaps close behind him. “Looks like they’re holed up in there pretty well.”
“Initial scout reports are in, El,” Ham said. “We’re guessing about twenty-five thousand defenders.”
“Not as many as I expected,” Elend said.
“That bastard Yomen has to keep control of the rest of my kingdom,” Cett said. “If he pulled all of his troops into the capital, the other cities would overthrow him.”
“What?” Vin asked, sounding amused. “You think they’d rebel and switch back to your side?”
“No,” Cett said, “they’d rebel and try to take over the kingdom themselves! That’s the way this works. Now that the Lord Ruler is gone, every little lord or petty obligator with half a taste of power thinks he can run a kingdom. Hell, I tried it—so did you.”
“We were successful,” Ham pointed out.
“And so was Lord Yomen,” Elend said, folding his arms. “He’s held this kingdom since Cett marched on Luthadel.”
“He all but forced me out,” Cett admitted. “He had half the nobility turned against me before I even struck toward Luthadel. I said I was leaving him in charge, but we both knew the truth. He’s a clever one—clever enough to know he can hold that city against a larger force, letting him spread his troops out to maintain the kingdom, and to endure a longer siege without running out of supplies.”
“Unfortunately, Cett’s probably right,” Ham said. “Our initial reports placed Yomen’s forces at somewhere around eighty thousand men. He’d be a fool to not have a few units within striking distance of our camp. We’ll have to be wary of raids.”
“Double the guards and triple scout patrols,” Elend said, “particularly during the early morning hours, when the daymist is out to obscure, but the sun is up to provide light.”
Ham nodded.
“Also,” Elend said thoughtfully, “order the men to stay in their tents during the mists—but tell them to be ready for a raid. If Yomen thinks that we’re afraid to come out, perhaps we can bait one of his ‘surprise’ attacks against us.”
“Clever,” Ham said.
“That won’t get us past those natural walls, though,” Elend said, folding his arms. “Cett, what do you say?”
“Hold the canal,” Cett said. “Post sentries up around those upper rock formations to make certain that Yomen