The Way of Kings (The Stormlight Archive 1)

“I know you hate him too, Father.”

“You do not know as much as you presume you do,” Dalinar said. “We’ll do something about that in a moment. For now, I swear…this strap does look like it was cut. Perhaps there is something we’re not seeing. This could have been part of something larger that didn’t work the way it had been anticipated.”

Adolin hesitated. It seemed overcomplicated, but if there was a group who liked their plots overly complicated, it was the Alethi lighteyes. “Do you think one of the highprinces may have tried something?”

“Maybe,” Dalinar said. “But I doubt any of them want him dead. So long as Elhokar rules, the highprinces get to fight in this war their way and fatten their purses. He doesn’t make many demands of them. They like having him as their king.”

“Men can covet the throne for the distinction alone.”

“True. When we return, see if anyone has been bragging too much of late. Check to see if Roion is still bitter about Wit’s insult at the feast last week and have Talata go over the contracts Highprince Bethab offered to the king for the use of his chulls. In previous contracts, he’s tried to slip in language that would favor his claim in a succession. He’s been bold ever since your aunt Navani left.”

Adolin nodded.

“See if you can backtrack the girth’s history,” Dalinar said. “Have a leatherworker look at it and tell you what he thinks of the rip. Ask the grooms if they noticed anything, and watch to see if any have received any suspicious windfalls of spheres lately.” He hesitated. “And double the king’s guard.”

Adolin turned, glancing at the pavilion. Sadeas was strolling out of it. Adolin narrowed his eyes. “Do you think—”

“No,” Dalinar interrupted.

“Sadeas is an eel.”

“Son, you have to stop fixating on him. He likes Elhokar, which can’t be said of most of the others. He’s one of the few I’d trust the king’s safety to.”

“I wouldn’t do the same, Father, I can tell you that.”

Dalinar fell silent for a moment. “Come with me.” He handed Adolin the saddle strap, then began to cross the plateau toward the pavilion. “I want to show you something about Sadeas.”

Resigned, Adolin followed. They passed the lit pavilion. Inside, darkeyed men served food and drink while women sat and scribed messages or wrote accounts of the battle. The lighteyes spoke with one another in verbose, excited tones, complimenting the king’s bravery. The men wore dark, masculine colors: maroon, navy, forest green, deep burnt orange.

Dalinar approached Highprince Vamah, who stood outside the pavilion with a group of his own lighteyed attendants. He was dressed in a fashionable long brown coat that had slashes cut through it to expose the bright yellow silk lining. It was a subdued fashion, not as ostentatious as wearing silks on the outside. Adolin thought it looked nice.

Vamah himself was a round-faced, balding man. The short hair that remained stuck straight up, and he had light grey eyes. He had a habit of squinting—which he did as Dalinar and Adolin approached.

What is this about? Adolin wondered.

“Brightlord,” Dalinar said to Vamah. “I have come to make certain your comfort has been seen to.”

“My comfort would be best seen to if we could be on our way back.” Vamah glared over at the setting sun, as if blaming it for some misdeed. He wasn’t normally so foul-mooded.

“I’m certain that my men are moving as quickly as they can,” Dalinar said.

“It wouldn’t be nearly as late if you hadn’t slowed us so much on the way here,” Vamah said.

“I like to be careful,” Dalinar said. “And, speaking of care, there is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Might my son and I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Vamah scowled, but let Dalinar lead him away from his attendants. Adolin followed, more and more baffled.

“The beast was a large one,” Dalinar said to Vamah, nodding toward the fallen chasmfiend. “The biggest I’ve seen.”

“I suppose.”

“I hear you’ve had success on your recent plateau assaults, killing a few cocooned chasmfiends of your own. You are to be congratulated.”

Vamah shrugged. “The ones we won were small. Nothing like that gemheart that Elhokar took today.”

“A small gemheart is better than none,” Dalinar said politely. “I hear that you have plans to augment the walls of your warcamp.”

“Hum? Yes. Fill in a few of the gaps, improve the fortification.”

“I’ll be certain to tell His Majesty that you’ll be wanting to purchase extra access to the Soulcasters.”

Vamah turned to him, frowning. “Soulcasters?”

“For lumber,” Dalinar said evenly. “Surely you don’t intend to fill in the walls without using scaffolding? Out here, on these remote plains, it’s fortunate that we have Soulcasters to provide things like wood, wouldn’t you say?”

“Er, yes,” Vamah said, expression darkening further. Adolin looked from him to his father. There was a subtext to the conversation. Dalinar wasn’t speaking only of wood for the walls—the Soulcasters were the means by which all of the highprinces fed their armies.

“The king is quite generous in allowing access to the Soulcasters,” Dalinar said. “Wouldn’t you agree, Vamah?”

“I take your point, Dalinar,” Vamah said dryly. “No need to keep bashing the rock into my face.”

“I’ve never been known as a subtle man, Brightlord,” Dalinar said. “Just an effective one.” He walked away, waving for Adolin to follow. Adolin did so, looking over his shoulder at the other highprince.

“He’s been complaining vocally about the fees that Elhokar charges to use his Soulcasters,” Dalinar said softly. It was the primary form of taxation the king levied on the highprinces. Elhokar himself didn’t fight for, or win, gemhearts except on the occasional hunt. He stood aloof from fighting personally in the war, as was appropriate.

“And so…?” Adolin said.

“So I reminded Vamah of how much he relies on the king.”

“I suppose that’s important. But what does it have to do with Sadeas?”

Dalinar didn’t answer. He kept walking across the plateau, stepping up to the lip of the chasm. Adolin joined him, waiting. A few seconds later, someone approached from behind in clinking Shardplate, then Sadeas stepped up beside Dalinar at the lip of the chasm. Adolin narrowed his eyes at the man, and Sadeas raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about his presence.

“Dalinar,” Sadeas said, turning his eyes forward, looking out across the Plains.

“Sadeas.” Dalinar’s voice was controlled and curt.

“You spoke with Vamah?”

“Yes. He saw through what I was doing.”

“Of course he did.” There was a hint of amusement in Sadeas’s voice. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“You told him you were increasing what you charge him for wood?”

Sadeas controlled the only large forest in the region. “Doubling it,” Sadeas said.

Adolin looked over his shoulder. Vamah was watching them stand there, and his expression was as thunderous as a highstorm, angerspren boiling up from the ground around him like small pools of bubbling blood. Dalinar and Sadeas together sent him a very sound message. Why…this is probably why they invited him on the hunt, Adolin realized. So they could maneuver him.