Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [865]
Something was out there.
Lord Ruler! he thought, cringing back. Not again!
But, no attack came from the mists. Instead, a dark figure strode forward. Rittle perked up, lowering his spear. “Halt!”
A man walked from the mists, wearing a deep black cloak, arms at his sides, hood up. His face, however, was visible. Wellen frowned. Something about this man looked familiar. . . .
Rittle gasped, then fell to his knees, clutching something at his neck—the pendant of a silver spear that he always wore. Wellen frowned. Then he noticed the scars on this newcomer’s arms.
Lord Ruler! Wellen thought in shock, realizing where he’d seen this man’s face. It had been in a painting, one of many available in the city, that depicted the Survivor of Hathsin.
“Rise,” the stranger said, speaking in a benevolent voice.
Rittle stood on shaking feet. Wellen backed away, uncertain whether to be awed or terrified, and feeling a little of both.
“I have come to commend your faith,” the Survivor said.
“My lord . . .” Rittle said, his head still bowed.
“Also,” Kelsier said, raising a finger. “I have come to tell you I do not approve of how this city is being run. My people are sick, they starve, and they die.”
“My lord,” Rittle said, “there is not enough food, and there have been riots seizing that which was stockpiled. My lord, and the mists kill! Please, why have you sent them to kill us!”
“I did no such thing,” Kelsier said. “I know that food is scarce, but you must share what you have and have hope. Tell me of the man who rules this city.”
“King Penrod?” Rittle asked. “He rules for Emperor Elend Venture, who is away at war.”
“Lord Elend Venture? And he approves of how this city is being treated?” Kelsier looked angry. Wellen cringed.
“No, my lord!” Rittle said, shaking. “I . . .”
“Lord Penrod is mad,” Wellen found himself saying.
The Survivor turned toward him.
“Wells, you shouldn’t . . .” Rittle said, but then trailed off, the Survivor shooting him a stern look.
“Speak,” the Survivor said to Wellen.
“He speaks to the air, my lord,” Wellen said, averting his eyes. “Talks to himself—claims that he can see the Lord Ruler standing beside him. Penrod . . . he’s given lots of strange orders, lately. Forcing the skaa to fight each other for food, claiming that only the strong should survive. He kills those who disagree with him. That kind of thing.”
“I see,” the Survivor said.
Surely he knows this already, Wellen thought. Why bother asking?
“Where is my Heir?” the Survivor asked. “The Hero of Ages, Vin.”
“The Lady Empress?” Wellen asked. “She’s with the emperor.”
“Where?”
“Nobody knows for certain, my lord,” Rittle said, still shaking. “She hasn’t returned in a long time. My sergeant says that she and the emperor are fighting in the South, fighting koloss. But I’ve heard other men say the army went to the west.”
“That’s not very helpful,” Kelsier said.
Wellen perked up, remembering something.
“What?” the Survivor asked, apparently noticing Wellen’s change in posture.
“An army troop stopped by the city a few months ago,” Wellen said, feeling proud. “They kept it quiet, but I was in the group that helped them resupply. Lord Breeze was with them, and he spoke of meeting up with others of your crew.”
“Where?” Kelsier asked. “Where were they going?”
“North,” Wellen said. “To Urteau. That must be where the emperor is, my lord. The Northern Dominance is in rebellion. He must have taken his armies to quell it.”
The Survivor nodded. “Very well,” he said. He turned as if to go, then paused, looking back. “Pass what news you can,” he said. “There isn’t much time left. Tell the people that when the mists leave, they should immediately find shelter. A place underground, if possible.”
Wellen paused, then nodded. “The caverns,” he said. “Where you trained your army?”
“That will do,” Kelsier said. “Farewell.”
The Survivor disappeared into the mists.
TenSoon left the gates of Keep Venture behind, running off into the mists. He could, perhaps, have gotten himself into the building. However, he wasn’t certain how