pull them back and threaten the stability of their purpose.
Yet, if he were no Herald . . . Her warmth was so comforting at his side.
But what then? He would still remember. If the anxiety of wondering
at his sanity were so great, how much more potent would his insecurity
be if he thought he’d abandoned the world to destruction? How could he
live? Even considering such things made his uncertainty rise, and the fires began to smolder. He contained them by looking at her.
He looked into hopeful eyes. “I will have to think about this, Jasnah,” he said.
Think. Think about what? Admitting that he was insane, that everything
he knew and remembered was nothing more than a delusional lie? Yes, he told himself, that is exactly what I will consider. I must confront this.
“I will think,” he repeated.
“. . . and we’ll have to move in through the north, through the valleys,
to mask our approach. Even still, they’re bound to have . . .” Meridas
trailed off, looking up from his map as he noticed Taln standing in the tent doorway.
Aneazer frowned openly at the intrusion, but Meridas was far better at
hiding his displeasure.
“What is this?” Taln asked. “The scouts have returned with news of
Kholinar? Why was I not informed?”
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 689
“We thought this beneath your notice, holy one,” Meridas said with a
smooth voice. “It is only a preliminary report, and your divine presence
hardly needs—”
“I may or may not be insane, Meridas,” Taln interrupted. “But I am
definitely not an idiot. Do not patronize me.”
Meridas simply smiled.
“What did the scouts find?” Taln asked, striding forward and regarding
the tabletop map. Aneazer had brought more than men to their expedition—
his supply carts carried tents, furniture, and some surprisingly detailed
landscape maps. His knowledge of eastern Alethkar was so remarkable, in
fact, that it was suspicious. One had to wonder what his plans might have
included, should Alethkar have fared worse in the Pralir wars.
“Kholinar is besieged,” Aneazer said. “Held by a force of several thousand.”
“How many is ‘several,’ Aneazer?” Taln said, scanning the map. A smaller
section had been arranged with a crudely-sketched layout of Kholinar
and the surrounding territory, and this was marked with several troop
groupings. The larger map, which showed the surrounding geography, told
him something that the other two had already noticed—that their own
army would have to change its route slightly. With care, they might be
able to get within a few hours march of the city without being discovered.
“Three thousand foot, six hundred heavy infantry, and perhaps five
hundred archers—with towers.”
Taln grunted.
“Smaller than our force in numbers,” Meridas pointed out.
“But with the advantage of location, not to mention the archers,” Taln
said. “I am new to this epoch’s methods of war, but I suspect that those
towers will be problematic.”
Aneazer nodded. They had been forced to leave the man’s own towers
behind in the name of speed, and their force had barely two hundred
archers. “We do have the advantage of Shardbearers, I would assume,” he
said.
“Yes,” Meridas said. “Most armies carry barely one Blade per tensquad.
Assuming averages hold true, this force will be lucky to be armed by three or four Shardbearers. Fewer probably, since they haven’t attacked the city itself yet. It might be best for us to skirt this army entirely. We need to join with the bulk of Alethkar’s forces.”
There was a sudden commotion outside the tent, marked by the presence
of an angry feminine voice. Beside the table, Meridas rolled his eyes and
Aneazer smiled in amusement.
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“We should probably suffer her,” Meridas said with a sigh. “She won’t
leave us alone until she’s been placated. Her brother indulged her by allowing her to play general with his armies.”
“Surely you don’t—” Aneazer said.
Meridas laughed. “By the winds, no. Elhokar is a soft-hearted brother,
and he indulged her far too much. You can see the result. The woman will
learn her place once our wedding is official.” If he caught Taln’s dark look at that last comment, he gave no obvious indication. “Anyway, for now
there is little to do besides let her in and humor her momentarily, so that we may be rid of her quickly.”
“As you say, Lord Meridas,” Aneazer said, waving for an attendant to
relay the message. Taln himself hadn’t had any trouble gaining entrance—
the army was still ostensibly his, and they couldn’t very well bar him
from the command tent. Jasnah, obviously, was not afforded the same
consideration.
She stalked into the tent chamber a few moments later. Another woman
might have thrown a tirade, but she simply shot Meridas a thin-eyed glance, then strode over to regard the various maps.
“We are too late to bring my brother warning, then,” she said.
Meridas raised an eyebrow.
“After taking Ral Eram from the inside, the invaders could hope to keep
the city’s fall a secret,” Jasnah replied, “but they could never lay a siege like this without word eventually reaching my brother. At least we know
that Alethkar hasn’t been conquered yet.”
“We don’t know that,” Meridas said. “The invaders could have already
destroyed King Elhokar’s army, then sent separate divisions to capture the larger cities and quell rebellion.”
Jasnah shook her head. “This is too small a force,” she said. “And it’s
arranged for an extended siege, not an offensive. It is meant to cut off
Dalenar’s retreat, and to disrupt his supplies. If the invaders had won,
they would not have wasted any time before taking Kholinar—it holds
an Oathgate and, other than Ral Eram, is the most important city in the
kingdom. The invaders wouldn’t waste time with a siege—they would
attack quickly and decisively. Trying to starve the city would be an act of foolishness, consider the number of Awakeners it holds.”
“She’s probably right,” Taln agreed. He didn’t look toward Jasnah. Every
time he met her eyes, he saw the appeal therein.
“We need to attack,” Jasnah decided. “We can’t leave this enemy at our
backs, and freeing Kholinar would be a powerful aid to our allies.”
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 691
“Yes, well,” Meridas said, “we will consider it.”
Jasnah ignored him, leaning down closely, running her finger along
the map as if tracing a path. “We can do it easily,” she said. “They won’t be expecting a force to come upon them from the west. We should send
a smaller contingent to strike toward the gates quickly from the east, and they will assume it’s a breaking force, meant to try and bring a message
from Elhokar’s army into the city. They’ll react quickly, pulling their forces forward to defend the city gates, exposing them to fire from Kholinar itself and leaving their towers relatively unguarded at the back of the main body.
We can send mounted Shardbearers to cut down the towers, then attack
from the east and retain the height advantage as we come down the lip of
the Lait.”
/>
“As I said, Jasnah,” Meridas said with obvious annoyance, “we are quite
capable of—”
“No, wait, Meridas,” Aneazer said, pulling at his frazzled grey beard,
studying the map with consternation. “The woman’s words have merit.”
“Kholinar undoubtedly still has troops guarding its walls,” Jasnah con-
tinued. “When they see our attack, they’ll raise the gates and sally, trapping the Veden army between two hostile foes. They’ll be boxed—armies to the
north and south, arrows falling from the west, and a lait cliffside to their west. Their towers will have fallen, and I doubt the force has even a single Shardbearer—it would be foolish to waste Shardblades on what is intended
to be little more than a blockade.”
Meridas frowned. “It is too early to make definite plans,” he finally said.
“Let us get closer to Kholinar, where we can perform better reconnaissance, then we will develop a firm strategy.”
Aneazer nodded in agreement, and after a brief pause, Jasnah nodded
as well, admitting the truth to Meridas’s words. The two noblemen left
together, Meridas postulating whether or not the Awakener knew how to
create Shinavar Dalaltatan, and suggesting that the two try the vegetable
for their evening repast. Taln stood, feeling a sudden tension as Jasnah’s eyes fell on him, then hurried out of the tent without looking at her. She remained behind, beside the battle map, watching him go.
He stepped out into the late afternoon light, taking a deep breath to still his tension. He knew it was foolish to avoid her, as if he were a child fleeing before the censure of a displeased parent. And yet, those eyes of hers only lent fuel to his own questionings and uncertainties. He had to decide, but he couldn’t do so with her looking at him like that.
The aggregate Herald’s Army was arrayed before him. Aneazer’s troops
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were wel -disciplined, their dark brown tents arranged in careful squadrons of a hundred men, each one emblazoned with the Zar glyph. Zar: Preparation.
Indeed, this was no despot’s ragged, bullying collection of thugs. This was a true army. Its presence helped discipline within Taln’s own troops. The
men became stronger and more unified simply by being forced to march
alongside Aneazer’s superior warriors. The two groups of men retained a
division, true, but the whole was a far more effective group than Taln’s men had been on their own.
Yes, this was an army now. The men were beginning to feel like soldiers,
and their training reflected that. Taln had once told Jasnah that he would not lead these men under false pretenses. He had persuaded himself to continue even after he had discovered her manipulations, for he felt that training the men would help them against the Khothen. But, if he was no Herald, then
he had perpetuated lies of the most blasphemous degree. His self-righteous proclamation that ‘intention mattered’ now seemed laughable. What of the
intentions of a madman? What good did it matter to the soldiers whether
they had been gathered by a man who sincerely thought himself a Herald
or not? The result was the same. They had been lied to.
Taln sighed, walking away from the command tent. Years of conditioning
kept his head high, his step firm, despite his inner turmoil. That too was a lie. The men saw him, and gathered strength from his supposed confidence.
But that was the way it had always been, hadn’t it? His questioning was
like a rodent, digging and gnawing at a wall that had been poorly patched.
Jasnah’s questions unearthed shames and uncertainties Taln had thought
long buried. Even during his moments of greatest confidence, they had
been there—a tiny but unnoticed leak in the presumably indestructible
wall of his own morality. He knew, even when he tried to forget, that the
Heralds were not what mankind presumed them to be. He knew secrets,
things that his brethren hid from their own people. Burdens taken in the
name of the greater good.
But what were these things? Ravings? Reflections of his own paranoia?
As he walked, he saw the horse pens. Aneazer kept two tensets of the
animals; Taln had known kings with less fine stock. He remembered
the difficulty in bringing the beasts to Roshar, and—upon visiting again
eight hundred years later for the Second Return—he remembered his relief
upon discovering that mankind had found a way to breed and keep horses
despite Roshar’s harshness. Almost every other sign of Lhar had died out,
but horses remained. What of these memories? These things seemed so
logical to him—was his mind so wounded that it could fill in holes in its
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 693
own reasonings, accepting for fact things that others would have found
laughable?
This army would go to war in just a few days. He had little time to decide.
If he determined that he was not a Herald, then he could no longer ride
at their head—this much he promised. He would not lie to others as he
had lied to himself. Yet, if he was a Herald, he had no business going to
war on Alethkar’s behalf. After the destruction of Kanar, Jezrien and Nale had decided that Heralds could not engage in the politics of men. The Elin were to leave the wars of mankind alone unless absolutely necessary for the protection of the greater good. As a Herald, it was Taln’s duty to move on.
Probably to Thalenah, which he had heard retained a very stable monarchy.
And if you are a Herald, where are the others? The swords had been buried for hundreds of years. If he was a Herald, then he was alone. That in itself was almost a powerful enough worry to make him wish to be mad, rather
than face the prospect of protecting Roshar on his own.
And, behind all of his fears and deliberations sat those beautiful, con-
cerned eyes. Even more powerful than uncertainty was another emotion he
had never thought to feel again. There had never been time or opportunity
for it before, and now that it came upon him, he was completely surprised
by its appearance—and equally uncertain how to deal with it.
Taln sighed, looking east, toward Kholinar and the concerns of men. He
would soon be forced to make a decision, one way or another.
chapter 75
DALENAR 7
Dalenar pulled off his helm, wiping the blood from his brow
as he led his horse back toward his army’s main body. Beside him,
Echathen’s voice rang with the mutterings of a tenset curses.
Light infantry marched around them. What had begun as a tensquad
had taken serious casualties, leaving barely five hundred men alive. The
ambush should have gone far better. It wasn’t that Dalenar had expected
to do serious damage to the Veden army—this ambush, like others, had
simply been another delaying tactic. As long as the Vedens feared ambush,
they would move more carefully, and Dalenar’s struggling force could stay
ahead. No, this day’s skirmish had not been intended to deal any serious
damage.
Elhokar Kholin had obviously thought differently.
“Kenalhin, Kepralin, and Kechahin!” Echathen swore, using the first
three names of the Almighty. One of Echathen’s tributing lords, Lord Ten-
mach, had been among those killed this day. Tenmach’s squad had been cut
off from the main troop, flanked by enemy forces who should have been
detained by Elhokar’s tensquad. Elhokar, however, hadn’t stayed back as
/>
the plan dictated—instead, he had pushed his troops forward, trying to cut through to the Veden commanders. By the time Elhokar had realized the
futility of the action, Dalenar’s force had already suffered massive casualties.
Dalenar glanced behind. The Veden force was there, of course, ever
THE WAY OF KINGS PRIME 695
behind them like a dark mold on the horizon. They weren’t giving specific
chase to Dalenar’s group—their leader, whoever it may be, was too clever
for that. For all he knew, Dalenar’s hasty retreat was leading into a second, more devastating ambush. The invaders had a two-to-one advantage in
troops—they were big enough to be confident, but still too small to take
hasty risks. That was, perhaps, the only reason why the Aleth forces
were still alive.
The men marching with Dalenar were a morose, solemn lot. Morale
was terrible, as could be expected—no army liked to be on the perpetual
retreat. However, the Aleth forces suffered from an even greater problem,
and the men could sense it. Though Dalenar and Elhokar’s armies remained
separated out of principle, they were required to rely on one another to
work against the invaders. They camped beside on another, and coordinated
delaying tactics. However, neither group held the obvious command.
The army was like two pigs tied to one rope. Each move was a struggle,
each plan a potential disaster. Elhokar refused to meet with Dalenar face
to face, instead insisting that they communicate via messengers. The sense of disorder, mixed with the foe behind, left the men with very little to rely upon.
The main troop had already set camp in the evening light—or, more
appropriately, it had set up two separate camps that happened to sit next to one another. Dalenar made for the western camp, which was slightly larger.
To the right, he could see Elhokar’s own ambush force marching into camp.
Dalenar reined in his horse as the men lethargically made their way
toward the mess tent. He looked over at Echathen. The Khardin man
had always been a soldier of great energy, but even he was beginning to
show signs of fatigue. His Plate was a mismatch of pieces, half his regular light-blue, half scavenged from the suits of the fallen—it would take
several weeks for his own twisted and scarred pieces to reform themselves.
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