"So this is where they all go." Raoden said with interest.
Karata led him farther into the room, which was buried deep within the palace of Elantris. Once, this building had housed the leaders elected by the Elantrian elders. Now it hid a playroom for babes.
Several men stood watchful guard over the children, eyeing Raoden with suspicion. Karata turned toward him. "When I first came to Elantris, I saw the children huddled in the shadows, frightened of everything that passed. and I thought of my own little Opais. Something within my heart healed when I began to help them-I gathered them, showed them a little bit of love, and they clung to me. Every one of the men and women you see here left a little child back on the out-
Karata paused, affectionately rubbing a small Elantrian child on the head.
"The children unite us. keep us from giving in to the pain. The food we gather is for them. Somehow, we can endure the hunger a little better if we know it has come, in part, because we gave what we had to the children."
I wouldn't have thought Raoden began quietly, watching a pair of young girls playing a clapping game together.
"That they would be happy?" Karata finished. She motioned for Raoden to follow her and they moved back, out of the children's hearing range. "We don't understand it either, my prince. They seem better at dealing with the hunger than the rest of us."
"A child's mind is a surprisingly resilient thing," Raoden said.
"They seem to be able to endure a certain amount of pain as well," Karata continued, "bumps and bruises and the like. However, they eventually snap, just like everyone else. One moment a child is happy and playful. Then he falls down or cuts himself one to many times, and his mind gives up. I have another room, kept far away from these little ones, filled with dozens of children who do nothing but whimper all day."
Raoden nodded. Then, after a moment, he asked. "Why are you showing me this?"
Karata paused. 'Because I want to join with you. I once served your father, despite what I thought of him. Now I will serve his son because of what I think of him. Will you accept my loyalty?"
"With honor, Karata."
She nodded, turning back to the children with a sigh. "I don't have much left in me, Lord Raoden," she whispered. "I've worried what would happen to my children when I am lost. This dream you have, this crazy idea of an Elantris where we grow food and we ignore our pain. I want to see you try to create it. I don't think you can, but I think you will make something better of us in the process."
"Thank you," Raoden said, realizing that he had just accepted a monumental responsibility. Karata had lived for over a year under the burden he was just beginning to feel. She was tired; he could see it in her eyes. Now, if the time came, she could rest. She had passed her weight on to him.
"Thank you," Karam said, looking at the children.
"Tell me, Karata," Raoden said after a moment of thought. "Would you really have broken my people's limbs?"
Karata didn't respond at first. "You tell me, my prince. What would you have done if I'd tried to kill your father tonight?"
"Questions both better left unanswered."
Karata nodded, her tired eyes bearing a calm wisdom.
Raoden smiled as he recognized the large figure standing outside of the chapel, waiting for him to return. Galladon's concerned face was illuminated by the tiny flame of his lantern.
"A light to guide me home, my friend?" Raoden asked from the darkness as he approached.
"Sule!" Galladon cried. "By Doloken, you're not dead?"
"Of course I am," Raoden said with a laugh. clapping his friend on the shoulder. "We all are-at least, that's what you seem to be fond of telling me." Galladon grinned. "Where's the woman?"
"I walked her home, as any gentleman wouId," Raoden said, entering the chapel. Inside, Mareshe and the others were rousing.
"Lord Spirit has returned!" Saolin said with enthusiasm.
"Here, Saolin. a gift." Raoden said, pulling the sword out from under his rags and tossing it to the soldier.
"What is this, my lord?" Saolin asked.
"That spear is amazing considering what you had to work with." Raoden said, "but I think you ought to have something a little more sturdy if you intend to do any real fighting."
Saolin pulled the blade free of its scabbard. The sword, nothing special on the outside, was a wondrous work of beauty within the confines of Elantris. "Not a spot of rust on her," Saolin said with amazement. "And it is engraved with the symbol of Iadon's own personal guard!"
"Then the king is dead?" Mareshe asked eagerly.
"Nothing of the sort," Raoden said dismissively. "Our mission was of a personal nature, Mareshe, and it did not involve killing-though the guard who owned that sword is probably fairly angry."
"I'll bet," Galladon said with a snort. "Then we don't have to worry about Karata anymore?"
"No." Raoden said with a smile. "As a matter of fact, her gang will be joining with us."
There were a few mutters of surprise at the announcement, and Raoden paused before continuing. "Tomorrow we're going to visit the palace sector. Karata has something there I want you all to see-something everyone in Elantris should see."
"What is that. sule?" Galladon asked.
"Proof that the hunger can be defeated."
CHAPTER 14
Sarene had about as much talent for needlepoint as she did for painting. Not that she let it stop her from trying-no matter how much she worked to become a part of what were traditionally considered masculine activities, Sarene felt an intense need to prove that she could be as feminine and ladylike as anyone else. It wasn't her fault that she just wasn't any good at it.
She held up her embroidering hoop. It was supposed to depict a crimson sisterling sitting on a branch, its beak open in song. Unfortunately, she had drawn the pattern herself-which meant it hadn't been all that good in the first place. That, coupled with her startling inability to follow the lines, had produced something that resembled a squashed tomato more than it did a bird.
"Very nice. dear," Eshen said. Only the incurably bubbly queen could deliver such a compliment without sarcasm.
Sarene sighed. dropping her hoop to her lap and grabbing some brown thread for the branch.
"Don't worry, Sarene," Daora said. "Domi gives everyone different levels of talent. but he always rewards diligence. Continue to practice and you will improve."
You say that with such ease, Sarene thought with a mental scowl. Daora's own hoop was filled with a detailed masterpiece of embroidered perfection. She had entire flocks of birds, each one tiny yet intricate, hovering and spinning through the branches of a statuesque oak. Kiin's wife was the embodiment of aristocratic virtue.
Daora didn't walk. she glided, and her every action was smooth and graceful. Her makeup was striking-her lips bright red and her eyes mysterious-but it had been applied with masterful subtlety. She was old enough to be stately, yet young enough to be known for her remarkable beauty. In short, she was the type of woman Sarene would normally hate-if she weren't also the kindest. most intelligent woman in the court.
After a few moments of quiet, Eshen began to talk, as usual. The queen seemed frightened of silence, and was constantly speaking or prompting others to do so. The other women in the group were content to let her lead-not that
anyone would have wanted to try wrestling control of a conversation from Eshen.
The queen's embroidery group consisted of about ten women. At first, Sarene had avoided their meetings, instead focusing her attention on the political court. However, she had soon realized that the women were as important as any civil matter; gossip and idle chatting spread news that couldn't be discussed in a formal setting. Sarene couldn't afford to be out of the chain, she just wished she didn't have to reveal her ineptitude to take part.