Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

prisoner with a cloth sack on his head.
    “What is this?” Dockson demanded.
    One of the rebels elbowed his captive. “I think he’s someone important, m’lord. Came to us unarmed, asked to be brought to you. Promised us gold if we did it.”
    Dockson raised an eyebrow. The grunt pulled off the hood, revealing Elend Venture.
    Dockson blinked in surprise. “You?”
    Elend looked around. He was apprehensive, obviously, but held himself well, all things considered. “Have we met?”
    “Not exactly,” Dockson said. Blast. I don’t have time for captives right now. Still, the son of the Ventures . . . Dockson was going to need leverage with the powerful nobility when the fighting was over.
    “I’ve come to offer you a truce,” Elend Venture said.
    “ . . . excuse me?” Dockson asked.
    “House Venture will not resist you,” Elend said. “And I can probably talk the rest of the nobility into listening as well. They’re frightened—there’s no need to slaughter them.”
    Dockson snorted. “I can’t exactly leave hostile armed forces in the city.”
    “If you destroy the nobility, you won’t be able to hold on for very long,” Elend said. “We control the economy—the empire will collapse without us.”
    “That is kind of the point of this all,” Dockson said. “Look, I don’t have time—”
    “You must hear me out,” Elend Venture said desperately. “If you start your rebellion with chaos and bloodshed, you’ll lose it. I’ve studied these things; I know what I’m talking about! When the momentum of your initial conflict runs out, the people will start looking for other things to destroy. They’ll turn on themselves. You must keep control of your armies. ”
    Dockson paused. Elend Venture was supposed to be a fool and a fop, but now he just seemed . . . earnest.
    “I’ll help you,” Elend said. “Leave the noblemen’s keeps alone and focus your efforts on the Ministry and the Lord Ruler—they’re your real enemies.”
    “Look,” Dockson said, “I’ll pull our armies away from Keep Venture. There’s probably no need to fight them now that—”
    “I sent my soldiers to Keep Lekal,” Elend said. “Pull your men away from all the nobility. They’re not going to attack your flanks—they’ll just hole up in their mansions and worry.”
    He’s probably right about that. “We’ll consider . . .” Dockson trailed off, noticing that Elend wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. Blasted hard man to have a conversation with.
    Elend was staring at Hammond, who had returned with a new sword. Elend frowned, then his eyes opened wide. “I know you! You were the one who rescued Lord Renoux’s servants from the executions!”
    Elend turned back to Dockson, suddenly eager. “Do you know Valette, then? She’ll tell you to listen to me.”
    Dockson shared a look with Ham.
    “What?” Elend asked.
    “Vin . . .” Dockson said. “Valette . . . she went into the palace a few hours back. I’m sorry, lad. She’s probably in the Lord Ruler’s dungeons right now—assuming she’s even still alive.”

    Kar tossed Vin back into her cell. She hit the ground hard and rolled, her loose undershirt twisting around her, her head knocking against the cell’s back wall.
    The Inquisitor smiled, slamming the door. “Thank you very much,” he said through the bars. “You just helped us achieve something that has been a long time in coming.”
    Vin glared up at him, the effects of the Lord Ruler’s Soothing weaker now.
    “It is unfortunate that Bendal isn’t here,” Kar said. “He chased your brother for years, swearing that Tevidian had fathered a skaa half-breed. Poor Bendal . . . If only the Lord Ruler had left the Survivor to us, so that we could have had revenge.”
    He looked over at her, shaking his spike-eyed head. “Ah, well. He was vindicated in the end. The rest of us believed your brother, but Bendal . . . even then he wasn’t convinced—and he found you in the end.”
    “My brother?” Vin said, scrambling to her feet. “He sold me out?”
    “Sold you out?” Kar said. “He died promising us that you had starved to death years ago! He screamed it night and day beneath the hands of Ministry torturers. It is very hard to hold out against the pains of an Inquisitor’s torture . . . something you shall soon discover.” He smiled. “But, first, let me show you something.”
    A group of guards dragged a naked, bound figure into the room. Bruised and bleeding, the