Words of Radiance

“You can pardon any crime, as king,” Dalinar said. “Don’t tell me you honestly want to see this man hanged after what he did today.”

“Would you stop me?” Elhokar said.

“I wouldn’t stand for it, that’s certain.”

Elhokar crossed the room, stepping right up to Dalinar. For a moment, Kaladin seemed forgotten.

“Am I king?” Elhokar asked.

“Of course you are.”

“You don’t act like it. You’re going to have to decide something, Uncle. I won’t continue letting you rule, making a puppet of me.”

“I’m not—”

“I say the boy is to be executed. What do you say of that?”

“I’d say that in attempting such a thing, you’d make an enemy of me, Elhokar.” Dalinar had grown tense.

Just try to execute me… Kaladin thought. Just try.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Elhokar turned away. “Prison.”

“How long?” Dalinar said.

“Until I say he’s done!” the king said, waving a hand and stalking toward the exit. He stopped there, looking at Dalinar, a challenge in his eyes.

“Very well,” Dalinar said.

The king left.

“Hypocrite,” Kaladin hissed. “He’s the one who insisted you put me in charge of his guard. Now he blames you?”

Dalinar sighed, kneeling down beside Kaladin. “What you did today was a wonder. In protecting my sons, you justified my faith in you before the entire court. Unfortunately, you then threw it away.”

“He asked me for a boon!” Kaladin snapped, raising his manacled hands. “I got one, it seems.”

“He asked Adolin for a boon. You knew what we were about, soldier. You heard the plan in conference with us this morning. You overshadowed it in the name of your own petty vengeance.”

“Amaram—”

“I don’t know where you got this idea about Amaram,” Dalinar said, “but you have to stop. I checked into what you said, after you brought it to my attention the first time. Seventeen witnesses told me that Amaram won his Shardblade only four months ago, long after your ledger says you were made a slave.”

“Lies.”

“Seventeen men,” Dalinar repeated. “Lighteyed and dark, along with the word of a man I’ve known for decades. You’re wrong about him, soldier. You’re just plain wrong.”

“If he is so honorable,” Kaladin whispered, “then why didn’t he fight to save your sons?”

Dalinar hesitated.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaladin said, looking away. “You’re going to let the king put me in prison.”

“Yes,” Dalinar said, rising. “Elhokar has a temper. Once he cools down, I’ll get you free. For now, it might be best if you had some time to think.”

“They’ll have a tough time forcing me to go to prison,” Kaladin said softly.

“Have you even been listening?” Dalinar suddenly roared.

Kaladin sat back, eyes widening, as Dalinar leaned down, red-faced, taking Kaladin by the shoulders as if to shake him. “Have you not felt what is coming? Have you not seen how this kingdom squabbles? We don’t have time for this! We don’t have time for games! Stop being a child, and start being a soldier! You’ll go to prison, and you’ll go happily. That’s an order. Do you listen to orders anymore?”

“I…” Kaladin found himself stammering.

Dalinar stood up, rubbing his hands on his temples. “I thought we had Sadeas cornered, there. I thought maybe we’d be able to cut his feet out from under him and save this kingdom. Now I don’t know what to do.” He turned and walked to the door. “Thank you for saving my sons.”

He left Kaladin alone in the cold stone room.

* * *

Torol Sadeas slammed the door to his quarters. He walked to his table and leaned over it, hands flat on the surface, looking down at the slice through the center he’d made with Oathbringer.

A drop of sweat smacked the surface right beside that slot. He’d kept himself from trembling all the way back to the safety of his warcamp—he’d actually managed to paste on a smile. He’d shown no concern, even as he dictated to his wife a response to the challenge.

And all the while, in the back of his mind a voice had laughed at him.

Dalinar. Dalinar had almost outmaneuvered him. If that challenge had been sustained, Sadeas would quickly have found himself in the arena with a man who had just defeated not one, but four Shardbearers.

He sat down. He did not look for wine. Wine made a man forget, and he didn’t want to forget this. He must never forget this.

How satisfying it would be to someday ram Dalinar’s own sword into his chest. Storms. To think he’d almost felt pity for his former friend. Now the man pulled something like this. How had he grown so deft?

No, Sadeas told himself. This was not deftness. It was luck. Pure and simple luck.

Four Shardbearers. How? Even allowing for the help of that slave, it was now obvious that Adolin was at last growing into the man his father had once been. That terrified Sadeas, because the man Dalinar had once been—the Blackthorn—had been a large part of what had conquered this kingdom.

Isn’t this what you wanted? Sadeas thought. To reawaken him?