Elantris

CHAPTER 16

Raoden had once tried to set Ien free. He had been a young boy then, simple of mind but pure of intention. He had been learning about slavery from one of his tutors, and had somehow gotten it into his mind that the Seons were being held against their will. He had gone to Ien tearfully that day, demanding that the Seon accept his freedom.

"But I am free. young master," Ten had replied to the crying boy.

"No you're nod" Raoden had argued. "You're a slave-you do whatever people tell you."

"I do it because I want to. Raoden."

"Why? Don't you want to be free?"

"I want to serve. young master," Ten explained, pulsing reassuringly. "My freedom is to be here, with you."

`I don't understand."

"You look at things as a human, young master," Ten said with his wise, indulgent

voice. "You see rank and distinction; you try to order the world so that everything has a place either above you or beneath you. To a Seon, there is no above or beneath. there are only those we love. And we serve those we love."

"But you don't even get paid!" had been Raoden's indignant response.

"But I do, young master. My payment is that of a father's pride and a mother's love. My wages come from the satisfaction of seeing you grow."

It had been many years before Raoden understood those words, but they had always remained in his mind. As he had grown and learned, listening to countless Korathi sermons on the unifying power of love, Raoden had come to see Seons in a new way. Not as servants, or even as friends. but as something much more deep and more powerful. It was as if the Seons were an expression of Domi himself, reflections of God's love for his people. Through their service, they were much closer to heaven than their supposed masters could ever really understand.

"You're finally free, my friend," Raoden said with a wan smile as he watched Ien float and bob. He still hadn't been able to get even a flicker of recognition from the Seon, though Ien did seem to stay in Raoden's general vicinity. Whatever the Shaod had done to Ien, it had taken away more than just his voice. It had broken his mind.

"I think I know what's wrong with him," Raoden said to Galladon, who sat in the shade a short distance away. They were on a rooftop a Few buildings down from the chapel, ejected from their habitual place of study by an apologetic Kahar. The old man had been cleaning furiously in the days since his arrival, and the time had finally come for the final polishing. Early in the morning he had contritely, but insistently, thrown them all out so he could finish.

Galladon looked up from his book. "Who? The Seon?"

Raoden nodded, lying on his stomach near the edge of what was once a garden wall, still watching Ien. "His Aon isn't complete."

Ien." Galladon said thoughtfully. "That's healing. Kolo?"

"That's right. Except his Aon isn't complete anymore-there are tiny breaks in its lines, and patches of weakness in its color."

Galladon grunted, but didn't offer anything more; he wasn't as interested in Aons or Seons as Raoden was. Raoden watched Ien for a few more moments before turning back to his study of the AonDor book. He didn't get far, however. before Galladon brought up a topic of his own.

"What do you miss most, sule?" the Dula asked contemplatively. "Miss most? About the outside?"

"Kolo," Galladon said. "What one thing would you bring here to Elantris if you could?"

"I don't know," Raoden said. "I'd have to think about it. What about you?" "My house," Galladon said with a reminiscent tone. "I built it myself, sule.

Felled every tree, worked every board, and pounded every nail. It was beautiful-no mansion or palace can compete with the work of one's own hands."

Raoden nodded. imagining the cabin in his mind. What had he owned that he missed the most strongly? He had been the son of a king, and had therefore had many possessions. The answer he came up with, however, surprised him.

"Letters," he said. -I'd bring a stack of letters."

"Letters, sale?" It obviously hadn't been the response he had been expecting. "From whom?"

"A girl."

Galladon laughed. "A woman, sale? I never figured you for the romantic type." "just because I don't mope around dramatically like a character from one of

your Duladen romances doesn't mean I don't think about such things."

Galladon held up his hands defensively. "Don't get DeluseDoo on me, sule.

I'm just surprised. Who was this girl?"

"I was going to marry her," Raoden explained.

"Must have been some woman."

"Must have been," Raoden agreed. "I wish I could have met her." "You never met her?"

Raoden shook his head. "Hence the letters, my friend. She lived in Teod-she was the king's daughter, as a matter of fact. She started sending me letters about a year ago. She was a beautiful writer, her words were laced with such wit that couldn't help but respond. We continued to write for the better part of five months; then she proposed."

"She proposed to you?" Galladon asked.

"Unabashedly," Raoden said with a smile. "It was. of course, politically motivated. Sarene wanted a firm union between Teod and Arelon."

"And you accepted?"

"It was a good opportunity," Raoden explained. "Ever since the Reod. Teod has kept its distance from Arelon. Besides. those letters were intoxicating. This last year has been… difficult. My father seems determined to run Arelon to its ruin, and he is not a man who suffers dissent with patience. But, whenever it seemed that my burdens were too great, I would get a letter from Sarene. She had a Seon too, and after the engagement was formalized we began to speak regularly. She would call in the evenings, her voice drifting from Ien to captivate me. We left the link open for hours sometimes."

"What was that you said about not moping around like a character from a romance?" Galladon said with a smile.

Raoden snorted, turning back to his book. "So, there you have it. If I could have anything, I'd want those letters. I was actually excited about the marriage. even if the union was just a reaction to the Derethi invasion of Duladel."

There was silence.

"What was that you just said, Raoden?" Galladon finally asked in a quiet voice.

"What? Oh, about the letters?"

"No. About Duladel."

Raoden paused. Galladon had claimed to have entered Elantris a "few months" ago, but Dulas were known for understatement. The Duladen Republic had fallen just over six months previously…

"I assumed you knew," Raoden said.

"What, sule?" Galladon demanded. "Assumed I knew what?"

"I'm sorry, Galladon." Raoden said with compassion, turning around and sitting up. "The Duladen Republic collapsed."

"No," Galladon breathed, his eyes wide.

Raoden nodded. "There was a revolution. like the one in Arelon ten years ago, but even more violent. The republican class was completely destroyed, and a monarchy was instituted."

"Impossible… The republic was strong-we all believed in it so much." "Things change. my friend," Raoden said, standing and walking over to place a hand on Galladon's shoulder.

"Not the republic, sule," Galladon said. his eyes unfocused. "We all got to choose who ruled, stile. Why rise up against that?"

Raoden shook his head. "I don't know-not much information escaped. It was a chaotic time in Duladel, which is why the Fjordell priests were able to step in and seize power."

Galladon looked up. "That means Arelon is in trouble. We were always there to keep the Derethi away from your borders."

"I realize that."

"What happened to Jesker?" he asked. "My religion, what happened to it?" Raoden simply shook his head.

"You have to know something!"

"Shu-Dereth is the state religion in Duladel now." Raoden said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Galladon's eyes fell. "It's gone then."

"There are still the Mysteries." Raoden offered weakly.

Galladon frowned, his eyes hard. "The Mysteries are not the same thing as Jesker, sule. They are a mockery of things sacred. A perversion. Only outsiders-those without any sort of true understanding of the Dor-practice the Mysteries."

Raoden left his hand on the grieving man's shoulder, unsure how to comfort him. "I thought you knew," he said again. feeling helpless.

Galladon simply groaned, staring absently with morose eyes.

Raoden left Galladon on the rooftop: the large Dula wanted to be alone with his grief. Unsure what else to do, Raoden returned to the chapel, distracted by his thoughts. He didn't remain distracted for long.

"Kahar, it's beautiful!" Raoden exclaimed, looking around with wonder.

The old man looked up from the corner he had been cleaning. There was a deep look of pride on his face. The chapel was empty of sludge; all that remained was clean, whitish gray marble. Sunlight flooded through the western windows, reflecting off the shiny floor and illuminating the entire ehapel with an almost divine brilliance. Shallow reliefs covered nearly every surface. Only half an inch deep, the detailed sculptures had been lost in the sludge. Raoden ran his fingers across one of the tiny masterpieces. the expressions on the people's faces so detailed as to be lifelike.

"They're amazing," he whispered.

"I didn't even know they were there, my lord," Kahar said, hobbling over to stand next to Raoden. "I didn't see them until I started cleaning, and then they were lost in the shadows until I finished the floor. The marble is so smooth it could be a mirror, and the windows are placed just right to catch the light."

"And the reliefs run all around the room?"

"Yes, my lord. Actually, this isn't the only building that has them. You'll occasionally run across a wall or a piece of furniture with carvings on it. They were probably common in Elantris before the Reod."

Raoden nodded. "It was the city of the gods, Kahar."

The old man smiled. His hands were black with grime, and a half-dozen ragged cleaning cloths hung from his sash. But he was happy.

"What next, my lord?" he asked eagerly.

Raoden paused, thinking quickly. Kahar had attacked the chapel's grime with the same holy indignation a priest used to destroy sin. For the first time in months, perhaps years, Kahar had been needed.

"Our people have started living in the nearby buildings, Kahar," Raoden said. "What good will all your cleaning here do if they track slime in every time we meet?"

Kahar nodded thoughtfully. "The cobblestones are a problem," he mumbled. "This is a big project, my lord." His eyes, however, were not daunted.

"I know." Raoden agreed. "But it is a desperate one. A people who live in filth will feel like filth-if we are ever going to rise above our opinions of ourselves, we are going to need to be clean. Can you do it?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. I'll assign you some workers to speed the process." Raoden's band had grown enormously over the last few days as the people of Elantris had heard of Karata's merger with him. Many of the random, ghostlike Elantrians who wandered the streets alone had begun to make their way to Raoden's band. seeking fellowship as a final, desperate attempt to avoid madness.

Kahar turned to go, his wrinkled face turning around the chapel one last time, admiring it with satisfaction.

"Kahar," Raoden called.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Do you know what it is? The secret. I mean?"

Kahar smiled. "I haven't been hungry in days, my lord. It is the most amazing feeling in the world-I don't even notice the pain anymore."

Raoden nodded, and Kahar left. The man had come looking for a magical soIution to his woes, but he had found an answer much more simple. Pain lost its power when other things became more important. Kahar didn't need a potion or an Aon to save him-he just needed something to do.

Raoden strolled through the glowing room, admiring the different sculptures. He paused, however, when he reached the end of a particular relief. The stone was blank for a short section, its white surface polished by Kahar's careful hand. It was so clean, in fact, that Raoden could see his reflection.

He was stunned. The face that stared out of the marble was unknown to him. He had wondered why so few people recognized him; he had been prince of AreIon. his face known even in many of the outer plantations. He had assumed that the Elantrians simply didn't expect to find a prince in Elantris. so they didn't think to associate "Spirit" with Raoden. However, now that he saw the changes in his face, he realized that there was another reason people didn't recognize him.

There were hints in his features, clues to what had been. The changes, however, were drastic. Only two weeks had passed, but his hair had already fallen out. He had the usual Elantris blotches on his skin, but even the parts that had been flesh-toned a few weeks ago had turned a flat gray. His skin was wrinkling slightly, especially around the lips, and his eyes were beginning to take on a sunken look.

Once, before his own transformation, he had envisioned the Elantrians as living corpses, their flesh rotting and torn. That wasn't the case; Elantrians retained their flesh and most of their figure, though their skin wrinkled and darkened. They were more withering husks than they were decaying corpses. Yet. even though the transformation wasn't as drastic as he had once assumed. it was still a shock to see it in himself.

"We are a sorry people. are we not?" Galladon asked from the doorway. Raoden looked up, smiling encouragingly. "Not as bad as we could be. my friend. I can get used to the changes."

Galladon grunted, stepping into the chapel. "Your cleaning man does good work, sule. This place looks almost free from the Reod."

"The most beautiful thing, my friend. is the way it freed its cleanser in the process."

Galladon nodded, joining Raoden beside the wall, looking out at the large

crew of people who were clearing the chapel's garden area. "They've been coming in droves, haven't they. sule?"

"They hear that we offer something more than life in an alley. We don't even have to wateh the gates anymore-Karata brings us everyone she can rescue."

"How do you intend to keep them all busy?" Galladon asked. "That garden is big, and it's nearly completely cleared."

"Elantris is a very large city. my friend. We'll find things to keep them occupied."

Galladon watched the people work, his eyes unreadable. He appeared to have overcome his grief, for the moment.

"Speaking of jobs." Raoden began. 'I have something I need you to do." 'Something to keep my mind off the pain, sule?"

"You could think that. However, this project is a little more important than cleaning sludge." Raoden waved Galladon to follow as he walked to the back corner of the room and pried a loose stone from the wall. He reached inside and pulled out a dozen small bags of corn. "As a farmer, how would you judge the grade of this seed?"

Galladon picked up a kernel with interest, turning it over in his hand a few times, testing its color and its hardness. "Not bad," he said. "Not the best I've seen. but not bad."

"The planting season is almost here, isn't it?"

"Considering how warm it's been lately, I'd say that it's here already." "Good," Raoden said. 'This corn won't last long in this hole, and I don't trust leaving it out in the open."

Galladon shook his head. "It won't work, sule. Farming takes time before it brings rewards-those people will pull up and ear the first little sprouts they see."

"I don't think so." Raoden said. pushing a few kernels of corn around in his palm. "Their minds are changing, Galladon. They can see that they don't have to live as animals anymore."

"There isn't enough room for a decent crop," Galladon argued. "It will be little more than a garden."

"There's enough space to plant this little amount. Next year we'll have more corn, and then we can worry about room. I hear the palace gardens were rather large-we could probably use those."

Galladon shook his head. "The problem in that statement, sule, is the part about 'next year.' There won't be a 'next year.' Kolo? People in Elantris don't last that long."

"Elantris will change," Raoden said. "If not, then those who come here after us will plant the next season."

"I still doubt it will work."

"You'd doubt the sun's rising if you weren't proven wrong each day," Raoden said with a smile. "Just give it a try."

"All right. sule," Galladon said with a sigh. "I suppose your thirty days aren't up yet."

Raoden smiled, passing the corn to his friend and placing his hand on the Dula's shoulder. "Remember. the past need not become our future as well."

Galladon nodded, putting the corn back in its hiding place. "We won't need this for another few days-I'm going to have to figure out a way to plow that garden."

"Lord Spirit!" Saolin's voice called faintly from above, where he had constructed himself a makeshift watchtower. "Someone is coming."

Raoden stood, and Galladon hurriedly replaced the stone. A moment later one of Karata's men burst into the room.

"My lord." the man said, "Lady Karata begs your presence immediately!"

"You are a fool, Dashe!" Karata snapped.

Dashe-the extremely large, well-muscled man who was her second-incommand-simply continued to strap on his weapons.

Raoden and Galladon stood confused at the doorway to the palace. At least ten of the men in the entryway-a full two-thirds of Karata's followers-looked as if they were preparing for battle.

"You can continue to dream with your new friend. Karata," Dashe replied gruffly. "but I will wait no longer-especially not as long as that man threatens the children."

Raoden edged closer to the conversation, pausing beside a thin-limbed, anxious man named Horen. Horen was the type who avoided conflict. and Raoden guessed that he was neutral in this argument.

"What's happening?" Raoden asked quietly.

"One of Dashe's scouts overheard Aanden planning to attack our palace tonight," Horen whispered. carefully watching his leaders argue. "Dashe has wanted to strike at Aanden for months now, and this is just the excuse he needed."

"You're leading these men into something far worse than death, Dashe," Karata warned. "Aanden has more people than you do."

"He doesn't have weapons," Dashe replied, sliding a rusted sword into its sheath with a click. "All that university held was books, and he already ate those." "Think about what you are doing," Karata said.

Dashe turned, his boardlike face completely frank. "I have, Karata. Aanden is a madman: we cannot rest while he shares our border. If we strike unexpectedly, then we can stop him permanently. Only then will the children be safe."

With that, Dashe turned to his grim band of would-be soldiers and nodded. The group moved out the door with purposeful strides.

Karata turned to Raoden, her face a mixture of frustration and pained betrayal. "This is worse than suicide, Spirit."

"I know," Raoden said. "We're so few we can't afford to lose a single man-not even those who follow Aanden. We have to stop this."

"He's already gone." Karata said, leaning back against the wall. "I know Dashe well. There's no stopping him now."

"I refuse to accept that, Karata."

"Sule, if you don't mind my asking, what in Doloken are you planning?"

Raoden loped along beside Galladon and Karata, barely keeping up with the two. "I have no idea," he confessed. "I'm still working on that part."

"I figured as much," Galladon muttered.

"Karata," Raoden asked, "what route will Dashe take?"

"There's a building that runs up against the university." she replied. "Its far wall collapsed a while ago, and some of the stones knocked a hole in the university wall it abuts. I'm sure Dashe will try to get in there-he assumes Aanden doesn't know about the breach."

"Take us there," Raoden said. "But take a different route. I don't want to run into Dashe."

Karata nodded, leading them down a side street. The building she'd mentioned was a low, single-story structure. One of the walls had been built so close to the university that Raoden was at a loss to guess what the architect had been thinking. The building had not fared well over the years; although it still had its roof-which was sagging horribly-the entire structure seemed on the edge of collapse.

They approached apprehensively, poking their heads through a doorway. The building was open on the inside. They stood near the center of the rectangular structure, the collapsed wall a short distance to their left. another doorway a short distance to their right.

Galladon cursed quietly. "I don't trust this."

"Neither do I." Raoden said.

"No, it's more than that. Look, sule." Galladon pointed to the building's inner support beams. Looking closely, Raoden recognized the marks of fresh cuts in the already weakened wood. "This entire place is rigged to fall."

Raoden nodded. "It appears as if Aanden is better informed than Dashe assumed. Maybe Dashe will notice the danger and use a different entrance."

Karata shook her head immediately. "Dashe is a good man, but very single-minded. He'll march right through this building without bothering to look up."

Raoden cursed, kneeling beside the doorframe to think. He soon ran out of time, however, as he heard voices approaching. A moment later Dashe appeared in the doorway on the far side, to Raoden's right.

Raoden-halfway between Dashe and the fallen wall-rook a deep breath and called out. "Dashe, stop! This is a trap-the building is rigged to collapse!"

Dashe halted, half of his men already in the building. There was a cry of alarm from the university side of the room, and a group of men appeared behind the rubble. One. bearing Aanden's familiar mustached face, held a worn fire axe in his hands. Aanden jumped into the room with a cry of defiance. axe raised toward the support pillar.

"Taan, stop!" Raoden yelled.

Aanden stopped his axe in midswing, shocked at the sound of his real name. One half of his fake mustache drooped limply. threatening to fall off.

"Don't try to reason with him!" Dashe warned, pulling his men from the room. "He's insane."

"No, I don't think he is," Raoden said, studying Aanden's eyes. "This man is not insane-just confused."

Aanden blinked a few times. his hands growing tense on the axe handle. Rao-den searched desperately for a solution, and his eyes fell on the remnants of a large stone table near the center of the room. Gritting his teeth and muttering a silent prayer to Domi. Raoden stood and walked into the building.

Karata gasped behind him, and Galladon cursed. The roof moaned ominously. Raoden looked at Aanden, who stood with the axe prepared to swing. His eyes followed Raoden into the center of the room.

"I'm right, am I not? You aren't mad. I heard you babbling insanely at your court, but anyone can babble. An insane man doesn't think to boil parchment for food, and a madman doesn't have the foresight to plan a trap."

"I am not Taan," Aanden finally said. "I am Aanden. Baron of Elantris!"

"If you wish," Raoden said, taking the remnants of his sleeve and wiping it against the top of the fallen table. "Though I can't imagine why you would rather be Aanden than Taan. This is, after all, Elantris."

"I know that!" Aanden snapped. No matter what Raoden had said, this man wasn't completely stable. The axe could fall at any moment.

"Do you?" Raoden asked. "Do you really understand what it means to live in Elantris, the city of the gods?" He turned toward the table, still wiping, his back to Aanden. "Elantris, city of beauty, city of art… and city of sculpture." He stepped back, revealing the now clean tabletop. It was covered with intricate carvings, just like the walls of the chapel.

Aanden's eyes opened wide, the axe drooping in his hand.

"This city is a stonecarver's dream, Taan," Raoden said. "How many artists did you hear on the outside complain about the lost beauty of Elantris? These buildings are amazing monuments to the art of sculpture. I want to know who, when faced with such opportunity, would choose to be Aanden the baron instead of Taan the sculptor."

The axe clanged to the ground. Aanden's face was stunned.

"Look at the wall next to you, Taan." Raoden said quietly.

The man turned, his fingers brushing against a reIief hidden in slime. His sleeve came up, his arm quivering as he buffed away the slime. "Merciful Domi," he whispered. "It's beautiful."

"Think of the opportunity, Taan," Raoden said. "Only you, out of all the sculptors in the world, can see Elantris. Only you can experience its beauty and learn from its masters. You are the luckiest man in Opelon."

A trembling hand ripped the mustache away. "And I would have destroyed it," he mumbled. "I would have knocked it down…"

With that. Aanden bowed his head and collapsed in a crying heap. Raoden exhaled thankfully-then noticed that the danger wasn't over. Aanden's squad of men was armed with stones and steel rods. Dashe and his people entered the room again, convinced that it wasn't going to collapse on them any time soon.

Raoden stood directly between the two groups. "Stop!" he commanded, raising an arm at each one. They halted, but warily.

"What are you people doing?" Raoden demanded. "Hasn't Taan's realization taught you anything?"

"Step aside, Spirit, — Dashe warned, hefting his sword.

"I will not!" Raoden said. "I asked you a question-did you learn nothing from what just happened?"

"We aren't sculptors," Dashe said.

"That doesn't matter," Raoden replied. "Don't you understand the opportunity you have living in Elantris? We have a chance here that no one outside can ever achieve-we are free."

"Free?" scoffed someone from Aanden's group.

"Yes, free." Raoden said. "For eternity man has struggled just to fill his mouth. Food is life's one desperate pursuit. the first and the last thought of carnal minds. Before a person can dream, he must eat. and before he can love, he must fill his stomach. But we are different. At the price of a little hunger, we can be loosed from the bonds that have held every living thing since time began."

Weapons lowered slightly, though Raoden couldn't be certain if they were considering his words, or just confused by them.

"Why fight?" Raoden asked. "Why worry about killing? Outside they fight for wealth-wealth that is ultimately used to buy food. They fight for land-land to raise food. Eating is the source of all struggle. But, we have no needs. Our bodies are cold-we barely need clothing or shelter to warm us-and they continue on even when we don't eat. It's amazing!"

The groups still eyed each other warily. Philosophic debate wasn't a match for the sight of their enemies.

"Those weapons in your hands," Raoden said. "Those belong to the outside

world. They have no purpose in Elantris. Titles and class, those are ideas for another place.

"Listen to me! There are so few of us that we can't afford to lose a single one of you. Is it really worth it? An eternity of pain in exchange for a few moments of released hatred?"

Raoden's words echoed through the silent room. Finally, a voice broke the tension.

"I will join you," Taan said, rising to his feet. His voice wavered slightly, but his face was resolute. "I thought I had to be mad to live in Elantris, but madness was what kept me from seeing the beauty. Put down your weapons. men."

They balked at the order.

"I said put them down." Taan's voice grew firm, his short, large-bellied form suddenly commanding. "I still lead here."

"Baron Aanden ruled us," one of the men said.

"Aanden was a fool," Taan said with a sigh, "and so was anyone who followed him. Listen to this man-there is more royalty in his argument than there ever was in my pretend court."

"Give up your anger," Raoden pled. "And let me give you hope instead."

A clank sounded behind him-Dashe's sword falling to the stones. "I cannot kill today," he decided, turning to leave. His men regarded Aanden's group for a moment. then joined their leader. The sword sat abandoned in the center of the room.

Aanden-Taan-smiled at Raoden. "Whoever you are, thank you."

"Come with me, Taan." Raoden said. "There is a building you should see."