Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive, #3)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Sometimes, a hypocrite is nothing more than a man who is in the process of changing.”

But she had learned that nobody was strong all the time, not even Dalinar Kholin. Love wasn’t about being right or wrong, but about standing up and helping when your partner’s back was bowed. He would likely do the same for her someday.

She leaned into him, listening to his heartbeat, his breathing. She felt his warmth. “You never did say,” she whispered, “which one you prefer.” “It’s obvious. I prefer the real you.” “Which one is that, though?” “She’s the one I’m talking to right now. You don’t have to hide, Shallan. You don’t have to push it down. Maybe the vase is cracked, but that only means it can show what’s inside. And I like what’s inside.”

The first rule of war. Know your enemy.

She yanked her arm out of his hand and attuned Irritation. “How … why have you brought me here?” “I want to talk.” “Of course you do. Now that you’re losing, now that we’ve seized your capital, now you want to talk. What of the years spent slaughtering my people on the Shattered Plains?” It had been a game to them. Listener spy reports had shown the humans had enjoyed the sport on the Shattered Plains. Claiming wealth, and listener lives, as part of a grand contest. “We were willing to talk, when you sent your emissary,” Dalinar said. “The Shardbearer. I’m willing to talk again now. I want to forget old grievances, even those personal to me.”

“You sure you won’t change your mind?” Shallan asked. Azure shook her head. “Azure,” Kaladin said. “I was too harsh earlier. That doesn’t mean I—”

“It’s not that,” she said. “I simply have a different thread to chase, and besides, I left my men to fight these monsters in Kholinar. Doesn’t feel right to do the same again.” She smiled. “Don’t fear for me, Stormblessed. You will have a much better chance if I stay here—as will these sailors. When you boys next meet the swordsman who taught you that morning kata, warn him that I’m looking for him.”

“Zahel?” Adolin said. “You know Zahel?” “We’re old fr...

“Oh, Kal,” she whispered, then squeezed his arm. “Maybe someday you’ll learn how to be there for the living, not just for the dead.”

After she left, he got two letters from her, talking about her life in Mourn’s Vault. He had paid someone to read them to him. He never sent responses. Because he was stupid, because he didn’t understand. Because men make mistakes when they’re young and angry. Because she had been right.

In the past, Honor was able to guard against this, the Stormfather told him. He convinced the Radiants they were righteous, even if this land hadn’t originally been theirs. Who cares what your ancestors did, when the enemy is trying to kill you right now?

What would you like? she asked. Renown? Wealth? Skill? Would you like to be able to swing a sword and never tire? “No,” Dalinar whispered. Beauty? Followers? I can feed your dreams, make you glorious. Her dark mists wrapped around him. The tiny tendrils tickled his skin. She brought her face right up to his again. What is your boon? Dalinar blinked tears, listening to the sounds of the children dying in the distance, and whispered a single word. “Forgiveness.”

Don’t be stupid, the sword said. Let’s go fight those guys. “The parshmen? They are the rightful rulers of the land,” Szeth said. Rightful? Who has a right to land? Humans are always claiming things. But nobody asks the things, now do they? Well, nobody owns me. Vivenna told me. I’m my own sword.

“I have no choice.” Really? Didn’t you tell me you spent a thousand years following the instructions of a rock? “More than seven years, sword-nimi. And I didn’t follow the rock, but the words of the one who held it. I…” … Had no choice? But it had always been nothing more than a rock.

“You followed men before,” Nin continued. “They caused your pain, Szeth-son-Neturo. Your agony is because you did not follow something unchanging and pure. You picked men instead of an ideal.” “Or,” Szeth said, “perhaps I was simply forced to follow the wrong men.”

The most important step a man can take. It’s not the first one, is it? It’s the next one. Always the next step, Dalinar. Trembling, bleeding, agonized, Dalinar forced air into his lungs and spoke a single ragged sentence. “You cannot have my pain.”

“I will take responsibility for what I have done,” Dalinar whispered. “If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.”

“Syl?” She pulled him tight. “Maybe you don’t have to save anyone, Kaladin. Maybe it’s time for someone to save you.”

Looks like we’re cornered, the sword said. Time to fight, right? Accept death, and die slaying as many as possible? I’m ready. Let’s do it. I’m ready to be a noble sacrifice.

gift at the expense of everyone I loved?” “What do you care? It made you strong! Your men died in the name of battle, so that the strongest man would have the weapon. Anyone would have done what I did, even Dalinar himself.”

Kaladin floated downward toward him. “Ten spears go to battle,” he whispered, “and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”

The amethyst exploded, and Amaram dropped in a crumbled wreck beside Kaladin. A glowing figure stood on some rubble beyond, holding Amaram’s enormous Shardbow. The weapon seemed to match Rock, tall and brilliant, a beacon in the darkness.

Adolin knows me. What was she doing? She shoved Radiant and Veil aside, and when they resisted, she stuffed them into the back part of her brain. They were not her. She was occasionally them. But they were not her. Kaladin hesitated on the wall walk, but Shallan just gave him a wave, then went the other way, tired—but determined.

“You are such a fool.” She grabbed his ripped coat and pulled him into a kiss, passionspren crystallizing in the air around them. The warmth of the kiss did more for her than the tea ever could. It made her bubble and boil inside. Stormlight was nice, but this … this was an energy that made it dun by comparison. Storms, she loved this man.

“How do you like that, though? Three betrotheds instead of one. Some men drool over the idea of such debauchery. If you wanted, I could be practically anyone.” “But that’s the thing, Shallan. I don’t want anyone. I want you.”

“That might be the hardest one. But I think I can do it, Adolin. With some help, maybe?” He grinned that goofy grin of his. Storms, how could his hair look so good with gravel in it? “So…” he said. “You mentioned something about kissing me until I can’t breathe. But here I am, not even winded—” He cut off as she kissed him again.

“Kal,” Skar said as Kaladin slapped him on the back. “There’s something we didn’t mention by spanreed.” Kaladin frowned as Drehy returned to the fire and picked up one of the figures there. A child? In rags. Yes, a frightened little boy, maybe three or four years old, lips chapped, eyes haunted. Elhokar’s son. “We protect those,” Drehy said, “who cannot protect themselves.”

In payment for work done. You will find that I do keep my promises. I apologize for the delay. I congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials, little knife. You have done well. You have frightened away the Unmade who was in this tower, and in payment, we forgive a part of your debt owed from the destruction of our Soulcaster. Your next mission is equally important. One of the Unmade seems willing to break from Odium. Our good and that of your Radiant friends align. You will find this Unmade, and you will persuade it to serve the Ghostbloods. Barring that, you will capture it and deliver it to us. Details will be forthcoming.