Elantris

game. Arelon was his nation, his people. and he would make any sacrifice in order to protect them.

This time is different, Sarene. If you fail you won't lose a trade contract or building rights. You'll lose lives. The lives of real people. The thought was sobering.

Eondel regarded his cup, eyebrows raised skeptically. 'It's only water?' he asked. turning to Sarene.

'Water is good for you, my lord.'

'I'm not so sure about that,' Eondel said. 'Where did you get it?'

'I had it boiled and then poured between two buckets to restore its flavor,' Sarene said. 'I wasn't going to have the women falling over each other in drunken stupors while they tried to practice.'

'Arelish wine isn't that strong, Cousin,' Lukel pointed out.

'It's strong enough.' Sarene replied. 'Drink up, Lord Eondel. We wouldn't want you to get dehydrated.'

Eondel complied, though he maintained his look of dissatisfaction.

Sarene turned back toward her students, intending to order them to their practicing-however, their attention had been captured by something else. Lord Shuden stood near the back of the room. His eyes were closed as he moved slowly

through a delicate set of motions. His taut muscles rippled as his hands spun in controlled loops, his body flowing in response. Even though his motions were slow and precise, there was sweat glistening on his skin.

It was like a dance. Shuden rook long steps. legs rising high in the air, toes pointed, before placing them on the floor. His arms were always moving, his muscles stretched tightly, as if he were struggling against some unseen force. Slowly, Shuden accelerated. As if building in tension, Shuden swept faster and faster, his steps becoming leaps, his arms whipping.

The women watched in silence, their eyes wide, more than one jaw gaping open. The only sounds came from the wind of Shuden's moves and the thumping of his feet.

He stopped suddenly, landing in a final jump. feet pounding to the ground in unison, arms outspread, hands flat. He folded his arms inward like two heavy gates swinging shut. Then he bowed his head and exhaled deeply.

Sarene let the moment hang before mumbling. 'Merciful Domi. Now I'll never get them to focus.'

Eondel chuckled quietly. 'Shuden's an interesting lad. He complains repeatedly about the way women chase him, but he can't resist the urge to show off. Despite it all, he's still a man, and he's still rather young.'

Sarene nodded as Shuden completed his ritual. then turned sheepishly as he realized how much attention he had drawn. He quickly wove his way through the women with downcast eyes, joining Sarene and Eondel.

'That was… unexpected.' Sarene said as Shuden accepted a cup of water from Lukel.

'1 apologize, Lady Sarene.' he replied between gulps. 'Your sparring made me want to exercise. I thought everyone would be so busy practicing that they wouldn't notice me.'

'Women always notice you. my friend.' Eondel said with a shake of his gray-streaked head. 'Next time you complain about being mauled by adoring women. I'll point out this little fiasco.'

Shuden bowed his head in acquiescence. blushing again.

'What was that exercise?' Sarene asked curiously. 'I've never seen anything like it.'

'We call it ChayShan,' Shuden explained. 'It's a kind of warm-up-a way to focus your mind and body when preparing for a battle.'

'It's impressive,' Lukel said.

'I'm just an amateur,' Shuden said with a modestly bowed head. lack speed and focus-there are men in Jindo who can move so quickly you grow dizzy watching them.'

'All right, ladies,' Sarene declared, turning to the women, most of whom were still staring at Shuden. 'Thank Lord Shuden for his exhibition later. Right

now. you have some lunges to practice-don't think I'm going to let you leave after just a few minutes of work!'

There were several groans of complaint as Sarene took up her syre and began the practice session anew.

'They'll all be devilishly sore tomorrow,' Sarene said with a smile.

'You say that with such passion, my lady, that one is inclined to think you're enjoying the prospect.' Ashe throbbed slightly as he spoke.

'It will be good for them,' Sarene said. 'Most of those women are so pampered that they've never felt anything more serious than the prick of a stitching needle.'

'I'm sorry I missed the practice,' Ashe said. 'I haven't watched a ChayShan in decades.'

'You've seen one before?'

'I've seen many things, my lady,' Ashe replied. 'A Seon's life is very long.'

Sarene nodded. They walked down a street in Kae, the enormous wall of Elantris looming in the background. Dozens of street vendors offered their wares eagerly as she passed, recognizing from her dress that she was a member of the court. Kae existed to support the Arelish nobility, and it catered to very pompous tastes. Gold-plated cups, exotic spices, and extravagant clothes all vied for her attention-though most of it just made her feel sick to her stomach.

From what she understood, these merchants were the only real middle class left in Arelon. In Kae they competed for King Iadon's favor, and hopefully a title-usually at the expense of their competitors, a few peasants, and their dignity. Arelon was quickly becoming a nation of fervent, even terrified, commercialism. Success no longer brought just wealth, and failure no longer just poverty-income determined just how close one was to being sold into virtual slavery.

Sarene waved off the merchants, though her efforts did little to discourage them. She was relieved to finally turn a corner and see the Korathi chapel. She resisted the urge to sprint the rest of the way, keeping her pace steady until she reached the doors to the broad building and slipped in.

She dropped a few coins-nearly the last of the money she had brought with her from Teod-into the donations box. then went looking for the priest. The chapel felt comfortable to Sarene. Unlike Derethi chapels-which were austere and formal, hung with shields, spears, and the occasional tapestry-Korathi chapels were more relaxed. A few quilts hung on the walls-probably donations from elderly patrons-and flowers and plants sat lined up beneath them, their buds peeking out in the spring weather. The ceiling was low and unvaulted, but the windows were broad and wide enough to keep the building from feeling cramped.

'Hello, child,' a voice said from the side of the room. Omin, the priest, was standing next to one of the far windows. looking out at the city.

'Hello, Father Omin,' Sarene said with a curtsey. 'Am I bothering you?' 'Of course not, child,' Omin said, waving her over. 'Come, how have you been? I missed you at the sermon last night.'

'I'm sorry, Father Omin,' Sarene said with a slight flush. 'There was a ball I had to attend.'

'Ah. Do not feel guilty, child. SociaIizing is not to be underestimated, especially when one is new in town.'

Sarene smiled, walking between a set of pews to join the short priest next to the window. His small stature wasn't usually so noticeable; Omin had constructed a podium at the front of the chapel to fit his size. and while he gave sermons it was hard to distinguish his height. Standing next to the man, however, Sarene couldn't help feeling that she was towering over him. He was terribly short even for an Arelene, the top of his head barely reaching her chest.

'You are troubled by something, child?' Omin asked. He was mostly bald, and wore a loose-fitting robe tied at the waist with a white sash. Other than his strikingly blue eyes. the only color on his body was a jade Korathi pendant at his neck, carved in the shape of Aon Omi.

He was a good man-something Sarene couldn't say about everyone, even priests. There were several back in Teod who absolutely infuriated her. Omin, however, was thoughtful and fatherly-even if he did have an annoying habit of letting his thoughts drift. He sometimes got so distracted that minutes would pass without his realizing someone was waiting for him to speak.

'I wasn't sure who else to ask. Father.' Sarene said. 'I need to do a Widow's Trial, but no one will explain what it is.'

'Ah,' Omin said with a nod of his shiny hairless head. 'That would be confusing for a newcomer.'

'Why won't anyone explain it to me?'

'It is a semireligious ceremony left over from days when the Elantrians ruled,' Omin explained. 'Anything