Words of Radiance

The palace was both finer and more mundane than she might have expected. Certainly, this was a warcamp, and so the king’s seat wouldn’t match the majesty of the royal dwellings of Kharbranth. At the same time, it was amazing that such a structure could have been crafted here, away from the culture and resources of Alethkar proper. The towering stone fortress of sculpted rock, several stories high, perched at the pinnacle of the hill.

“Vathah, Gaz,” she said. “Attend me. The rest of you, take up position here. I will send word.”

They saluted her; she wasn’t certain if that was appropriate or not. She strode forward, and noticed with amusement that she’d chosen one of the tallest of the deserters and one of the shortest to accompany her, and so when they flanked her, it created an even slope of height: Vathah, herself, Gaz. Had she really just chosen her guards based on aesthetic appeal?

The front gates of the palace complex faced west, and here Shallan found a large group of guards standing before open doors that led to a deep tunnel of a corridor into the hill itself. Sixteen guards at the door? She had read that King Elhokar was paranoid, but this seemed excessive.

“You’ll need to announce me, Vathah,” she said softly as they walked up.

“As?”

“Brightness Shallan Davar, ward of Jasnah Kholin and causal betrothed of Adolin Kholin. Wait to say it until I indicate.”

The grizzled man nodded, hand on his axe. Shallan didn’t share his discomfort. If anything, she was excited. She strode by the guards with head held high, acting as if she belonged.

They let her pass.

Shallan almost stumbled. Over a dozen guards at the door, and they didn’t challenge her. Several raised hands as if to do so—she saw this from the corner of her eye—but they backed down into silence. Vathah snorted softly from beside her as they entered the tunnel-like corridor beyond the gates.

The acoustics caught echoing whispers as the guards at the door conversed. Finally, one of them did call out after her. “… Brightness?”

She stopped, turning toward them and raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Brightness,” the guard called. “But you are… ?”

She nodded to Vathah.

“You don’t recognize Brightness Davar?” he barked. “The causal betrothed of Brightlord Adolin Kholin?”

The guards hushed, and Shallan turned around to continue on her way. The conversation behind started up again almost immediately, loud enough this time that she could catch a few words. “… never can keep track of that man’s women…”

They reached an intersection. Shallan looked one way, then the other. “Upward, I’d guess,” she said.

“Kings do like to be at the top of everything,” Vathah said. “Attitude might get you past the outer door, Brightness, but it’s not going to get you in to see Kholin.”

“Are you really his betrothed?” Gaz asked nervously, scratching at his eye patch.

“Last I checked,” Shallan said, leading the way. “Which, granted, was before my ship sank.” She wasn’t worried about getting in to see Kholin. She’d at least get an audience.

They continued upward, asking servants for directions. Those scuttled about in clusters, jumping when spoken to. Shallan recognized that kind of timidity. Was the king as terrible a master as her father had been?

As they went higher, the structure seemed less like a fortress and more like a palace. There were reliefs on the walls, mosaics on the floor, carved shutters, an increasing number of windows. By the time they approached the king’s conference chamber near the top, wood trim framed the stone walls, with silver and gold leaf worked into the carvings. Lamps held massive sapphires, beyond the size of ordinary denominations, radiating bright blue light. At least she wouldn’t lack for Stormlight, should she need it.

The passage into the king’s conference room was clogged with men. Soldiers in a dozen different uniforms.

“Damnation,” Gaz said. “Those are Sadeas’s colors there.”

“And Thanadal, and Aladar, and Ruthar…” Vathah said. “He’s meeting with all the highprinces, as I said.”

Shallan could pick out factions easily, dredging from her studies of Jasnah’s book the names—and heraldry—of all ten highprinces. Sadeas’s soldiers chatted with those of Highprince Ruthar and Highprince Aladar. Dalinar’s stood alone, and Shallan could sense hostility between them and the others in the hallway.

Dalinar’s guards had very few lighteyes among them. That was odd. And did that one man at the door look familiar? The tall darkeyed man with the blue coat that went down to his knees. The man with the shoulder-length hair, curling slightly… He was speaking in a low voice with another soldier, who was one of the men from the gates below.

“Looks like they beat us up here,” Vathah said softly.

The man turned and looked her right in the eyes, then glanced down toward her feet.

Oh no.