The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,105

have won anything the last few weeks,” Dalinar said stiffly, “but my army has won its share of skirmishes in the past.” And the gemhearts can go to Damnation, for all I care.

“Perhaps,” Elhokar said, “but what have you done lately?”

“I have been busy with other important things.”

Sadeas raised an eyebrow. “More important than the war? More important than vengeance? Is that possible? Or are you just making excuses?”

Dalinar gave the other highprince a pointed look. Sadeas just shrugged. They were allies, but they were not friends. Not any longer.

“You should switch to bridges like his,” Elhokar said.

“Your Majesty,” Dalinar said. “Sadeas’s bridges waste many lives.”

“But they are also fast,” Sadeas said smoothly. “Relying on wheeled bridges is foolish, Dalinar. Getting them over this plateau terrain is slow and plodding.”

“The Codes state that a general may not ask a man to do anything he would not do himself. Tell me, Sadeas. Would you run at the front of those bridges you use?”

“I wouldn’t eat gruel either,” Sadeas said dryly, “or cut ditches.”

“But you might if you had to,” Dalinar said. “The bridges are different. Stormfather, you don’t even let them use armor or shields! Would you enter combat without your Plate?”

“The bridgemen serve a very important function,” Sadeas snapped. “They distract the Parshendi from firing at my soldiers. I tried giving them shields at first. And you know what? The Parshendi ignored the bridgemen and fired volleys onto my soldiers and horses. I found that by doubling the number of bridges on a run, then making them extremely light—no armor, no shields to slow them—the bridgemen work far better.

“You see, Dalinar? The Parshendi are too tempted by the exposed bridgemen to fire at anyone else! Yes, we lose a few bridge crews in each assault, but rarely so many that it hinders us. The Parshendi just keep firing at them—I assume that, for whatever reason, they think killing the bridgemen hurts us. As if an unarmored man carrying a bridge was worth the same to the army as a mounted knight in Plate.” Sadeas shook his head in amusement at the thought.

Dalinar frowned. Brother, Gavilar had written. You must find the most important words a man can say…. A quote from the ancient text The Way of Kings. It would disagree strongly with the things Sadeas was implying.

“Regardless,” Sadeas continued. “Surely you can’t argue with how effective my method has been.”

“Sometimes,” Dalinar said, “the prize is not worth the costs. The means by which we achieve victory are as important as the victory itself.”

Sadeas looked at Dalinar incredulously. Even Adolin and Renarin—who had come closer—seemed shocked by the statement. It was a very un-Alethi way of thinking.

With the visions and the words of that book spinning in his mind lately, Dalinar wasn’t feeling particularly Alethi.

“The prize is worth any cost, Brightlord Dalinar,” Sadeas said. “Winning the competition is worth any effort, any expense.”

“It is a war,” Dalinar said. “Not a contest.”

“Everything is a contest,” Sadeas said with a wave of his hand. “All dealings among men are a contest in which some will succeed and others fail. And some are failing quite spectacularly.”

“My father is one of the most renowned warriors in Alethkar!” Adolin snapped, butting into the group. The king raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise stayed out of the conversation. “You saw what he did earlier, Sadeas, while you were hiding back by the pavilion with your bow. My father held off the beast. You’re a cowa—”

“Adolin!” Dalinar said. That was going too far. “Restrain yourself.”

Adolin clenched his jaw, hand to his side, as if itching to summon his Shardblade. Renarin stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Adolin’s arm. Reluctantly, Adolin backed down.

Sadeas turned to Dalinar, smirking. “One son can barely control himself, and the other is incompetent. This is your legacy, old friend?”

“I am proud of them both, Sadeas, whatever you think.”

“The firebrand I can understand,” Sadeas said. “You were once impetuous just like him. But the other one? You saw how he ran out onto the field today. He even forgot to draw his sword or bow! He’s useless!”

Renarin flushed, looking down. Adolin snapped his head up. He thrust his hand to the side again, stepping forward toward Sadeas.

“Adolin!” Dalinar said. “I will handle this!”

Adolin looked at him, blue eyes alight with rage, but he did not summon his Blade.

Dalinar turned his attention to Sadeas, speaking very softly, very pointedly. “Sadeas. Surely I did not just hear you openly—before the king—call my son