Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive 4)

“Small talk is unnecessary, Ulim,” Nale said. “We are not friends. You persist only because I cannot destroy spren.” The strange man affixed his unblinking gaze on Venli. “Listener. Do you know what this is?”

“Just another spren,” she said.

“You are wise,” Nale said. “He is just another spren, isn’t he? How long have you known him?”

Venli didn’t reply—and she saw Ulim pulse to Satisfaction. He did not want her speaking.

“Brightlord,” one of the scribes called. “It appears you are correct. You may requisition this prisoner. We were simply going to hold her until—”

“Thank you,” Nale said, taking his seal from the scribe, then walked out into the hall. “Follow, listener.”

Ulim hopped onto her shoulder and grabbed hold of her hair. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “But don’t tell him anything. I am in so much trouble.…”

Venli followed the strange man from the guard room. She’d never seen a human that shade before, though it wasn’t a true onyx like a listener pattern. This was more the color of a rockbud shell.

“How many are there?” Nale asked her. “Spren like him? How many have returned?”

“We—” Ulim began.

“I would hear the listener,” Nale said.

She’d rarely known Ulim to be quiet, and he rarely did as she asked. At this man’s rebuke, however, Ulim fell immediately silent. Ulim was frightened of this being. So did that mean the songs about them were true?

A Herald. Alive.

Ulim was right. The Return had begun. The humans would soon be marching to destroy her people. It was the only conclusion she could come to, based on her knowledge of the songs. And based on meeting this man.

Storms. Her people needed forms of power.

And to get them, she somehow had to navigate this conversation without being murdered by this creature.

“Answer my question,” the Herald said. “How many spren like him are there? How many Voidspren have returned?”

“I have seen only this one,” Venli said.

“It is impossible that he has remained on Roshar all these years,” Nale said. “It has been … a long time, I believe. Generations perhaps, since the last true Desolation?”

How could this creature not remember how long it had been since the Returns ended? Perhaps he was so far above mortals that he didn’t measure time the same way.

“I thought it impossible for them to cross the distance between worlds,” Nale said. “Could it have been … No. Impossible. I’ve been vigilant. I’ve been careful. You must tell me! How did you accomplish his return?”

So cold. A voice with no rhythms, and no human emotions. Yet those words … He was raving. Perhaps it wasn’t that he measured time differently, but that he was addled? Though she’d been considering telling him the truth, that instinct retreated before his dead words.

She might not trust Ulim completely, but she certainly couldn’t turn to this Herald instead.

“We didn’t do anything to return them,” she said, taking a gamble based on what he’d said earlier. “It was what you did.”

“Impossible,” Nale repeated. “Ishar said only a Connection between the worlds could cause a bridge to open. And Taln has not given in. I would know if he had.…”

“Do not blame us,” Venli said, “for your failure.”

Nale kept his eyes forward. “So, Gavilar’s plan is working. The fool. He will destroy us all.” Nale sneered, a sudden and unexpected burst of emotion. “That foolish idiot of a man. He lures us with promises, then breaks them by seeking that which I told him was forbidden! Yes. I heard it tonight. The proof I need. I know. I know.…”

Storms, Venli thought. He really is mad.

“I have been vigilant,” the man ranted. “But not vigilant enough. I must take care. If the bonds start forming again … if we let the pathway open…” He suddenly stopped in the hallway, making her halt beside him. His face became flat again. Emotionless. “I believe I must offer you a service, listener. The king is planning to betray your people.”

“What?” she said.

“You can prevent disaster,” Nale said. “There is a man here in the city tonight. I have been tracking him due to his unusual circumstances. He possesses an artifact that belonged to a friend of mine. I have sworn not to touch said artifact, for … reasons that are unimportant to you.”

Confusion thrummed in Venli’s ears. But on her shoulder, Ulim had perked up.

“I have legal jurisdiction here to act on behalf of the king,” Nale said. “I cannot, however, take specific action against him. Tonight I found reason to have him killed, but it will take me months of planning to achieve the proper legality.

“Fortunately, I have read your treaty. There is a provision allowing one party to legally break it and attack the other—should they have proof the other is conspiring against them. I know for a fact that Gavilar is planning to use this very provision to assault your people in the near future. I give you this knowledge, sworn by a Herald of the Almighty. You have proof that he is conspiring against you, and may act.

“The man who can help you is a slave for sale in the market. The person who owns him is hoping some of the king’s wealthy visitors will want to pick up new servants before the feast. You have little time remaining. The slave you want is the sole Shin man among the crowd. The gemstones your people wear as ornaments will be enough to buy him.”

“I don’t understand,” Venli said.

Nale looked at Ulim on her shoulder. “This Shin man bears Jezrien’s Blade. And he is expertly trained in its employ.” He looked back to Venli. “I judge you innocent of any crime, using provision eighty-seven of the Alethi code—pardon of a criminal who has a more vital task to perform for the good of the whole.”

He then strode away, leaving them in the hall.

“That was…” Ulim said. “Wow. He’s far gone. As bad as some of the Fused. But that was well done, Venli. I’m trying not to sound too surprised. I think you may have fooled someone who is basically a god.”

“It’s an old trick, Ulim,” she said. “Everyone—humans, listeners, and apparently gods—deep down suspects that every failure is their own. If you reflect blame on them, most people will assume they are responsible.”

“Maybe I gave up on you too easily,” he said. “Old Jezrien’s Blade is here, is it? Curious…”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s say,” Ulim told her, “your people were to start a war with the humans. Would that lead your people to the desperation we want? Would they take the forms we offer?”

“Attack the humans?” Venli said to Confusion. They stood alone in the hallway, but she still hushed her voice. “Why would we do what that Herald said? We’re not here to start a war, Ulim. I merely want to get my people ready to face one, should the humans try to destroy us!”

Ulim crackled with lightning, then moved up her arm, toward her gemheart. She hesitated to let him in. He worked in strange ways, not according to the rules. He could move in and out of her without a highstorm to facilitate the transformation.