“And are you not angered that we took your Shards?” “They were first given me by a man I betrayed. I … don’t deserve them.” No. Not you. It’s not your fault. “You aren’t angry that we conquer you?” “No.” “Then what does anger you? What is your passionate fury, Moash, the man with an ancient singer’s name?” Yes, it was there. Still burning. Deep down. Storm it, Kaladin had been protecting a murderer. “Vengeance,” he whispered. “Yes, I understand.” She looked at him, smiling in what seemed to him a distinctly sinister way. “Do you know why we fight? Let me tell you.…”
