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ELEBET 2.0
Chapter 1. Slave Market in Shinovar
Elebet was spitting, scratching, biting mad, but she had to focus on breathing. She had
her fi ngers—both hands bare—between her throat and two ropes that were noosed
around her neck, trying to pull them away to get enough air to her lungs. Two rough
darkeyed Alethi men held the ends of the ropes out to either side of her, pulling them
tight, more if she struggled, less if she did not. She tried to clamp a bib of cloth to her
chest with her arms while straining with the ropes. A ragged skirt covered her thighs
almost to her knees. No one but Elebet could see the small Cultivation spren twining
around her, trying to comfort her.
The Shin auctioneer, standing on the platform to one side of her, quieted the
murmuring crowd, “Our next offering is unusual as you see. Golden hair and blue eyes,
Riran father and Alethi mother....”
Elebet made herself look at the crowd that stood packed in the shade, the sun glaring on
the dusty street outside the slave market—mostly Shin men, a couple of women, and a
few Thaylans with their long eyebrows. Some leered. Some merely studied her. Some
chatted casually. A man was walking down the street, passing the slave market, but
stopped and joined the back of the crowd. He was a tall Alethi with shoulder length
dark, curling hair, broad shoulders, and a threatening scowl on his face. His clothing
was military style, a uniform that she almost recognized. She met his intense dark eyes.
He was angry. Hope leapt in her.
“Help me. Please, help me,” she said quietly, and closed her eyes. “Almighty, please
help me.” She breathed it as a prayer. When she opened her eyes again, he had turned
his head and she thought he was going to walk away, but he only looked toward his
shoulder, then back at her.
“That man who just came in has an Honor spren, sweet girl,” the leafy spren whispered
to her, though no one else could hear him.
Are you sure
Jon?
she thought to him.
You can see one?
“
I am sure.”
The auctioneer droned on. “...about twenty years old, and let me see. Yes, her papers
say she is fertile.”
At the word “fertile” Elebet exploded. She threw herself forward to throw the now
relaxed rope men off, then back again to jerk the loose ropes free. Trying to pull the
nooses free and over her head as she lunged at the auctioneer was futile. Elebet
launched herself at the Shin auctioneer, and when he raised his arm to deflect her,
latched on to it with what ragged fi ngernails she had and bit as hard as she could, tasting
blood. He slammed her to the ground, kicking her away. She grabbed his leg then,
biting into the fleshy part of his calf. He kicked her away harder, and the two burly men
had the ends of rope back. They choked her into submission, her face going purple, the
slave brand on her forehead a darker shade.
In a daze on the floor, she heard the murmurs, and the auctioneer laughed. “As you see,
she’s a fi ghter, if any of you fi nd that amusing.” A couple of men laughed and elbowed
each other. The bidding began, and one man seemed determined to have her.
The angry man spoke up, “I’ll double that last bid.”
The determined one sneered at the angry man, “You’re a darkeyes. You can’t buy a
lighteyed woman.”
The angry man held his hand out as a brilliant shardblade formed in it and his eyes bled
to blue. “Light enough now?”
“Yes, apologies, Radiant.” Determined Man wasn’t determined any longer.
Angry Man took infused spheres from a pouch and threw them at the auctioneer. “Get
the bill of sale quickly. I don’t have time for this. And take those ropes off her.”
The grinning auctioneer had wrapped a cloth around his bleeding arm. He thought a
little blood was worth the inflated price he got for the girl. He waved Angry Man over
and did the paperwork. As he wrote, he asked, “Are you sure you want the ropes off,
Brightlord? She is quite a spitfi re.” He held up his arm as proof.
“Yes.”
“You two aren’t Shin, so she doesn’t need a slave stone.” He handed Angry Man the
papers he had fi lled out.
They fi nished the transaction and Elebet mechanically followed Angry Man into the
street. She tied the bib around her neck to cover her chest, but it bit painfully into the
rope burns there. Angry Man noticed her wince.
“Let me see that.” He looked at her neck, pulling back her long, tangled hair, and gently
removed a couple of rope fi bers that had gouged into her. “This needs cleaning and
antiseptic.” He shook his head. “I have no need of a servant. You’re free.”
Elebet heard the word free and turned to run. She got a few steps and stopped, her
shoulders drooping. Looking back at Angry Man, she saw the anger replaced by
sadness. She walked back to him, her head bowed. “I have no writ of emancipation, no
spheres, no place to go. With this” she put her hand to her brand “I’ll end up someone
else’s slave.”
He nodded and grunted softly. “I don’t have time now, but we’ll get you a writ
tomorrow. Let’s see if there’s a room for you where I’m staying.” He turned, continuing
down the street.
Elebet struggled to keep up with his long legs, though hers were long, too. She was so
tired. And hungry. As she fell farther and farther behind, the strange dust raised in the
street in the Shin city forming a haze, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning
her around. The childlike Shin eyes were horrible when they looked at her with such
lust.
“Let go!” She jerked her arm, but he gripped harder.
Angry Man appeared at her shoulder. “Let go.” He said it quietly. “Now.”
The man released her and backed away, bowing slightly, then turned and disappeared
into the crowd.
“See what I mean?” Elebet looked up at his face. “The brand...”
“I knew what you meant,” he interrupted her. “Come on.” He turned and walked away
as she scurried to keep up.
They walked between food vendors, the mingling smells of spices foreign to her making
her stomach rumble. She couldn’t help but look at the food as they passed. She didn’t
see Angry Man stop and walked into his back. As she stumbled backward, he caught her
by her freehand arm, stopping her fall.
“Sorry, master, I didn’t see you stop.” She didn’t look at him, but at the food as tiny
brown hunger spren swarmed around her.
“Hungry? When did you eat last? And I’m not your master.”
Her stomach gurgled in reply.
“We’ll get you something. My room is just down here.”
He led her into a nice inn, not extravagant but comfortable. He walked to the counter
where a heavy Shin woman stood. Elebet had to stifle a laugh. The woman’s head was
as round as her body, her hair pulled tight behind her head with her hairline receding so
much Elebet couldn’t see enough hair to tell the color. With her huge round Shin eyes,
she looked like a pile of bubbles.
“Tsach, have you got a room for this brightlady?” Angry Man called her a brightlady.
She nearly laughed again.
Tsach eyed Elebet and scowled. “No, Highmarshal, I don’t. And Shin law is very strict
about slaves. She cannot have a room for herself. You understand the implications? I
won’t have my good business name sullied by such business.”
Angry Man scowled back at her. “I don’t have time to argue with you. There is no
“business” involved here.” He reached into his sphere pouch. “Take her to my room,
then, and get her some food, decent clothes and draw her a bath. I have a meeting. I
can NOT be late. Is this enough?” He laid an infused emerald mark on the counter.
Tsach’s scowl disappeared and she snatched up the emerald. “Why, yes, Highmarshal. I
will be happy to do those things.”
Angry Man—the Highmarshal—turned to Elebet. “Go with Tsach and I’ll be back later.
I have no idea how long this meeting will take.” He left quickly before Elebet could
respond, though she supposed there was no need to respond. Just do what she was
ordered to do. This didn’t seem threatening, but she had been fooled before. Still, he
seemed kind for one who always looked so mad. No one had shown her kindness in a
very long time.
Tsach called a couple of servants from the back and gave one instructions to take food to
the Highmarshal’s room, and the other she gave a small sapphire and sent to buy
clothes. Then she waved for Elebet to follow her up a flight of stairs.
“Behave, girl, and when the Highmarshal leaves, I’ll keep you on.”
“He’s freeing me. He’s taking me to get a writ tomorrow.”
Tsach laughed. “Of course he is. You Easterners are so naive. Your purchase price was
cheaper than he could pay for nightly entertainment. I’ve seen it so many times. Where
do you think the two I sent out came from? Here’s his room.”
She opened the door and led Elebet into a nicely furnished room, like the rest of the
building, not extravagant but comfortable. It had double doors out onto a small
balcony, a large bed, a chest for clothes, a desk, with a chair and couch around a colorful
rug and a small wooden table in the middle of the rug. Like all the buildings in
Shinovar, everything was wooden. It made Elebet uneasy. Everything felt like it moved
and creaked. Tsach opened a door on the wall opposite the balcony and waved at her
again. “You can draw your own bath. There’s hot water.” Then she left.
Elebet turned a few circles in the room, then peeked into the bath. There was a decent
size tub, and when she turned the spigot, warm water flowed into the tub. Angry Man/
Highmarshal said he would be gone a while. Could she trust that? She put her hand
under the running water and decided it was worth the risk. It didn’t take much to strip
the bibbed skirt off. She had soap and clean towels, and scrubbed herself. It was
wonderful. She heard the door open from the hall and panicked, but one of the servant
girls poked her head through the door, told her there was food and laid a folded skirt
and blouse by the bath door—no glove or slippers —then disappeared.
Elebet could smell the food and dried off quickly. She had no brush or comb, and had to
pull the tangles from her wet hair with her fi ngers. The skirt was a brown homespun
material, a little rough, and the blouse was a smoother fabric in a green the shade of the
lazy Shin grass. The food had been left on the little table in the middle of the rug—some
flatbread and sweet paste, and a little chicken in a sweet sauce. There was also a small
bottle of water. She sat on the floor, eating all she could hold, which wasn’t much with
her shrunken stomach.
Her leafy spren coiled at her feet. Jon usually didn’t say much. “You can trust this
man, sweet girl,” he said. “He has an Honor spren. I saw her clearly. He is a
Windrunner. Their ideals are about protecting. You are safe!”
“A Windrunner? A radiant? That’s why he looked like light was coming off him like
smoke?”
“Yes. This is wonderful!”
“You don’t believe what Tsach said about him leaving us here? Leaving me as a slave?”
“I don’t think he will. Cultivation spren and Honor spren don’t get along well, but I
believe you are safe.”
“Safe with a slave brand in a foreign land with no spheres.” She sighed. “I am too tired
to think about this now. I need sleep.”
She picked the leftovers up, looking for a place to hide them. The small couch left a little
space in the corner behind it, so she squeezed there, and put the food under the couch
where it wasn’t visible from the front. She squeezed back out to check. It was hidden.
The floor wasn’t cold like a stone floor, so she feared it would be good only for a short
time.
Now, where to sleep? She wasn’t going to get in his bed. The couch wasn’t very long
and kind of hard. It was covered in pillows and had a small blanket across the back. It
wasn’t cold, but she felt a chill. She tossed the blanket and a couple of pillows behind
the couch and squeezed back again into the little space. It was out of sight, out of mind
—she hoped.
But she was clean and full, such a glorious feeling. A single joy spren
floated around her. Wrapping herself in the blanket and snuggling her head as best she
could into the pillows, she fell asleep on the wooden floor.
Chapter 2. Stories
Kaladin Stormblessed climbed the stairs in the inn to his room. His head hurt. It wasn’t
the kind of hurt Stormlight could fi x. It was tension, plain and simple. Dealing with
diffi cult people he couldn’t command or fi ght and didn’t have time to show how wrong
they were aggravated him. Give him his Sylspear and a good fi ght over talking to hard
headed men any day. But if Dalinar asked it of him, he would never say no. And what
Dalinar asked was not working well. Dalinar needed the help of a madman, a mad
Herald no less. And the Herald needed a Radiant to speak an ideal to regain some
sanity. The budding Radiants Dalinar had sent with him hoping one would speak an
ideal had been too eager and their spren had not accepted their words. It had angered
the Herald, and he had sent them away. But Syl said the girl had a spren. Why had he
walked that way, toward the slave market? There was nothing in that direction that he
needed. His head pounded harder. Just standing a strange girl in front of Ishar and
hoping she happened to feel an ideal to speak wasn’t much of a plan.
He opened his door and walked into an empty room. He stopped, looking around.
There were a couple of empty plates stacked neatly on the little table, but no sign of the
girl. He tapped on the bathroom door. No answer. He cracked it open, peering in
carefully, but still no girl. He stepped in when he noticed a lump in one corner, which
turned out to be a pile of rags—the girl’s clothes. He turned back to the bedroom. He
looked up at Syl and shook his head.
“I guess she’s gone. It’s a mistake she’ll regret. One I may regret, and maybe the world
will regret.”
Syl zipped around the room, stopped over the little couch, and pointed down. “Not
gone. Sound asleep.”
“On the floor, hiding behind the couch?” He sighed. “I know how she feels.”
A leafy jewel crusted vine grew over the back of the couch and formed arms and a face.
It saluted him and nodded to Syl. “I am Jon. I assume since you have an Honor spren,”
he nodded at Syl, “that you can be trusted. My poor mistress has had a very hard time of
it for the last two years, and I thank you for helping her. Can I trust you? Can she trust
you?”
“Hello Jon. Of course you can trust us.” Kaladin walked to the couch, putting one knee
on it to lean over the back to see the girl. She was wrapped in a small blanket that was
too short to cover her bare feet, curled into a tight ball, sleeping soundly. “She looks
cold.”
He walked over to the bed and took a blanket off it, then leaned over the back of the
couch to cover her. When the blanket touched her bare feet, she startled awake,
scrambling with her back tight into the corner, her arms wrapped around her drawn up
knees, her bare safehand tucked under her freehand arm. Her eyes were wild, looking
around, not knowing where she was.
“It’s all right. You’re safe. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to wake you. You just looked so
cold.” He kept his voice low and calm, like he had been taught dealing with a startled
horse.
She looked up at him, recognition registering on her face. She looked past his face and
smiled for the fi rst time he had seen. “You do have an Honor spren. Jon said you did.
She’s beautiful!”
Syl settled onto his shoulder, crossing her bare legs primly. “I like this one.”
“Don’t encourage her.” He shook his head at the girl. “You can come out of there.
You’re safe.” He held his hand out. She looked at it, but didn’t take it. She pushed
herself up to stand, sliding her bare safehand into her blouse between buttons, but
didn’t move. He backed off the couch and away from her. She studied his face for what
seemed a long time, and fi nally squeezed out from behind the couch, but stopped there,
holding on to the back of it like she was ready to jump back at any second. Kaladin
turned and sat in the chair, sprawling in a relaxed way, hoping it would make her feel
more safe. She started to sit on the edge of the couch but straightened back up.
“You can sit down.” She eased onto the edge, perched tensely. She never took her eyes
off him. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.
Kaladin rarely saw a lighteyed woman with her hair so loose and disheveled, and with no
make-up. Her hair was blond with a hint of red, giving it a golden sheen, and even
though the auctioneer had said her eyes were blue, they looked light green with her
green blouse. Vorins would never consider her beautiful, but he found her natural
simplicity attractive. He fi nally said, “I assume you’re still hungry. I asked Tsach to
send supper up.” She nodded. They sat in more silence. “I can see we’re going to get
along. I like quiet.”
She arched her eyebrows, “Boy, do I have you fooled.” She almost smiled again.
His lips twitched upward briefly. “Some would say I’m easy to fool. So, not-really-quiet
girl, what’s your name?”
She stared at him a second more, “Elebet.”
“Elebet. My name is Kaladin.”
She nodded.
“Are you sure you have me fooled?”
She almost smiled again.
“Where are you from? Where’s your family?”
“I grew up in Kholinar. I don’t have family.”
“All dead?”
“My father abandoned us when I was ten. Last we heard, he was on the coast of Herdaz.
I don’t know what happened to my mother when the city fell. I was in prison.”
“Storms! What were you doing in prison?”
“The Queen was letting food rot while people starved. My best friend was an ardent.
When we protested, the Queen executed her and threw me into prison. I wasn’t a slave
then.”
“And you aren’t now.”
“This brand says otherwise.”
“I know. I had one, too.”
“You were a branded slave? Where’s the scar?”
“Disappeared when I said one of my Radiant ideals. You have your spren. You just
haven’t said the ideals yet. Jon, has she said the fi rst words?”
Jon had coiled on the couch next to Elebet. “She has lived life before death and strength
before weakness, but doesn’t understand journey before destination yet.”
Kaladin nodded as a knock sounded at the door. “Come.”
Tsach’s two servant girls came in carrying their dinner. They set the food and dishes on
the table, serving their plates, and left. Kaladin noticed her struggling to eat with one
hand tucked into her blouse. He offered to help her, but she shook her head no.
“No long sleeve, no glove, and no slippers. I’ll take you tomorrow morning and get you
some things. I don’t see any other clothes here for you, nothing to sleep in either. They
assumed......wrong.”
She smiled weakly at him. They ate in silence, and when they fi nished he could tell she
was struggling to say something.
“What?”
Elebet hesitated a second. “You were a slave? Really?” When he nodded, she said, “Tell
me.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I like long stories.”
“Probably why you attracted him,” he said pointing at Jon. “I need to check that rope
burn on your neck and get antiseptic on it.” He went to the bath room and came out
with warm wet cloth and a vial of antiseptic. “You all right with me touching you?”
Elebet squirmed a little but nodded her permission. He probed the scrapes gently,
pulling out one more rope fi ber, and cleaned the burn with the soft damp cloth. Then he
applied the antiseptic. She sucked in air through her clinched teeth, making a hissing
noise. “Sorry,” he said. “Should have warned you it might sting.”
He took the cloth and vial back to the bath and came back and started pulling cushions
off the chair and couch, pulling the pillows and blankets from behind the couch, making
a pile on the rug beside the table, pulling his jacket and boots off, and stretched out on
the floor. “I had a long day and have another tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep. You get the bed.”
“No. It’s your bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m used to it.”
“So am I. This is actually more comfortable than I have had.”
Elebet pulled the rest of the covers off the bed, piling them on the rug on the other side
of the table from Kaladin. She got the rest of the cushions and pillows and plopped
down. “Your bed,” she said.
“Fine. We’ll both be uncomfortable.” He rolled to face away from her.
“You’re just avoiding telling me your story.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I need to hear it.”
He rolled back over, putting his elbow on the floor and head in his hand, matching her
position. “Now?”
“Please.”
As the waning evening light streamed through the balcony doors, tired as he was, he felt
the need to tell the girl his own story. He could guess enough of hers—women in a
conquered city usually had the same terrible story. Maybe his would make her feel some
trust in him. “I’ll tell you my story. You tell me yours fi rst.”
“My story is short.”
“I like short stories.” He could see her eyes on him in the setting sun’s light.
“When Kholinar fell, the Parshendi found me in the prison. A Fused gave me to a
human traitor who...”. She stopped, like she was struggling to fi nd words. When she
continued, her voiced cracked. “He branded me because I kept trying to run away and
this made it easier to fi nd me. And he said if I ever did get away, everyone would
know...” She took several deep breaths and her voice calmed. “Then he decided to sell
me. Ended up here. Now, your story.”
“I am sorry for what happed to you.”
“Thank you. Tell me your story.”
Kaladin sighed. “Fine.” He began at the beginning, which seemed too far ahead of what
she needed to hear, but for some strange reason, he felt the need to tell her everything,
starting with Roshone sending Tien off to fi ght in Amaram’s army. Tien was the heart of
what had happened to him, so she needed to know about Tien and why he’d joined his
little brother in the army. He pulled Tien’s stone from his pocket.
“Is that a Shin slave stone?” she asked.
It had never occurred to him, but in a way, it was a sort of slave stone. It was what he
felt help bind him to his brother’s memory.
“No. It’s what my little brother gave me during a Weeping to lift my spirits. You get it
wet,” he spit on it a little and tossed it to her, “look at the lines of color.”
Elebet picked it up, holding it to the light of the dying sun. “Amazing! Beautiful! How
did he know?” She tossed it back to him.
“He noticed things like this in everything. Simple wonders of the world. Always pointed
the beauty out to me when I was down.” He continued his story. When he got to the
part where Tien died and he held his body as it got cold, he heard quiet sniffling coming
from Elebet. She swiped her hand across her cheeks, brushing off tears that streamed
down her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m sorry you lost your brother, especially after all you did to save him. You gave up
everything to protect him.”