Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

Kelsier.
    “I didn’t choose you men because of your competence,” Kelsier said, “though you are certainly skilled. I chose each of you specifically because I knew you to be men of conscience. Ham, Breeze, Dox, Clubs . . . you are men with reputations for honesty, even charity. I knew that if I were going to succeed at this plan, I would need men who actually cared .
    “No, Breeze, this isn’t about boxings or about glory. This is about war—a war we have been fighting for a thousand years, a war I intend to end. You may go, if you wish. You know I’ll let any of you out—no questions asked, no repercussions exacted—if you wish to go.
    “However,” he said, eyes growing hard, “if you stay, you have to promise to stop questioning my authority. You can voice concerns about the job itself, but there will be no more whispered conferences about my leadership. If you stay, you follow me. Understood?”
    One by one, he locked eyes with the crewmembers. Each one gave him a nod.
    “I don’t think we ever really questioned you, Kell,” Dockson said. “We just . . . we’re worried, and I think rightly so. The army was a big part of our plans.”
    Kelsier nodded to the north, toward the main city gates. “What do you see up in the distance, Dox?”
    “The city gates?”
    “And what is different about them recently?”
    Dockson shrugged. “Nothing unusual. They’re a bit understaffed, but—”
    “Why?” Kelsier interjected. “Why are they understaffed?”
    Dockson paused. “Because the Garrison is gone?”
    “Exactly,” Kelsier said. “Ham says that the Garrison could be out chasing remnants of our army for months, and only about ten percent of its men stayed behind. That makes sense—stopping rebels is the sort of thing the Garrison was created to do. Luthadel might be exposed, but no one ever attacks Luthadel. No one ever has.”
    A quiet understanding passed between the members of the crew.
    “Part one of our plan to take the city has been accomplished,” Kelsier said. “We got the Garrison out of Luthadel. It cost us far more than we expected—far more than it should have. I wish to the Forgotten Gods that those boys hadn’t died. Unfortunately, we can’t change that now—we can only use the opening they gave us.
    “The plan is still in motion—the main peacekeeping force in the city is gone. If a house war starts in earnest, the Lord Ruler will have a difficult time stopping it. Assuming he wants to. For some reason, he tends to step back and let the nobility fight each other every hundred years or so. Perhaps he finds that letting them at each other’s throats keeps them away from his own.”
    “But, what if the Garrison comes back?” Ham asked.
    “If I’m right,” Kelsier said, “the Lord Ruler will let them chase stragglers from our army for several months, giving the nobility a chance to blow off a little steam. Except, he’s going to get a lot more than he expected. When that house war starts, we’re going to use the chaos to seize the palace.”
    “With what army, my dear man?” Breeze said.
    “We still have some troops left,” Kelsier said. “Plus, we have time to recruit more. We’ll have to be careful—we can’t use the caves, so we’ll have to hide our troops in the city. That will probably mean smaller numbers. However, that won’t be an issue—you see, that garrison is going to return eventually.”
    The members of the group shared a look as the executions proceeded below. Vin sat quietly, trying to decide what Kelsier meant by that statement.
    “Exactly, Kell,” Ham said slowly. “The Garrison will return, and we won’t have a big enough army to fight them.”
    “But we will have the Lord Ruler’s treasury,” Kelsier said, smiling. “What is it you always say about those Garrisoners, Ham?”
    The Thug paused, then smiled too. “That they’re mercenaries.”
    “We seize the Lord Ruler’s money,” Kelsier said, “and it means we get his army too. This can still work, gentlemen. We can make it work.”
    The crew seemed to grow more confident. Vin, however, turned her eyes back toward the square. The fountains ran so red that they seemed completely filled with blood. Over it all, the Lord Ruler watched from within his jet-black carriage. The windows were open, and—with tin—Vin could just barely see a silhouetted figure sitting within.
    That’s our real foe , she thought. Not the missing garrison, not the Inquisitors with their axes.