The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,110

the way his uncle treats him! A thousand guards? Halts on each and every plateau to let soldiers ‘secure’ the next one over? Really, Dalinar?”

“I like to be careful.”

“Others call that being paranoid.”

“The Codes—”

“The Codes are a bunch of idealized nonsense,” Sadeas said, “devised by poets to describe the way they think things should have been.”

“Gavilar believed in them.”

“And look where it got him.”

“And where were you, Sadeas, when he was fighting for his life?”

Sadeas’s eyes narrowed. “So we’re going to rehash that now? Like old lovers, crossing paths unexpectedly at a feast?”

Adolin’s father didn’t reply. Once again, Adolin found himself baffled by Dalinar’s relationship with Sadeas. Their barbs were genuine; one needed only look in their eyes to see that the men could barely stand one another.

And yet, here they were, apparently planning and executing a joint manipulation of another highprince.

“I’ll protect the boy my way,” Sadeas said. “You do it your way. But don’t complain to me about his paranoia when you insist on wearing your uniform to bed, just in case the Parshendi suddenly decide—against all reason and precedent—to attack the warcamps. ‘I don’t know where he gets it’ indeed!”

“Let’s go, Adolin,” Dalinar said, turning to stride away. Adolin followed.

“Dalinar,” Sadeas called from behind.

Dalinar hesitated, looking back.

“Have you found it yet?” Sadeas asked. “Why he wrote what he did?”

Dalinar shook his head.

“You’re not going to find the answer,” Sadeas said. “It’s a foolish quest, old friend. One that’s tearing you apart. I know what happens to you during storms. Your mind is unraveling because of all this stress you put upon yourself.”

Dalinar returned to walking away. Adolin hurried after him. What had that last part been about? Why “he” wrote? Men didn’t write. Adolin opened his mouth to ask, but he could sense his father’s mood. This was not a time to prod him.

He walked with Dalinar up to a small rock hill on the plateau. They picked their way up it to the top, and from there looked out at the fallen chasmfiend. Dalinar’s men continued harvesting its meat and carapace.

He and his father stood there for a time, Adolin brimming with questions, yet unable to find a way to phrase them.

Eventually, Dalinar spoke. “Have I ever told you what Gavilar’s final words to me were?”

“You haven’t. I’ve always wondered about that night.”

“‘Brother, follow the Codes tonight. There is something strange upon the winds.’ That’s what he said to me, the last thing he told me just before we began the treaty-signing celebration.”

“I didn’t realize that Uncle Gavilar followed the Codes.”

“He’s the one who first showed them to me. He found them as a relic of old Alethkar, back when we’d first been united. He began following them shortly before he died.” Dalinar grew hesitant. “Those were odd days, son. Jasnah and I weren’t sure what to think of the changes in Gavilar. At the time, I thought the Codes foolishness, even the one that commanded an officer to avoid strong drink during times of war. Especially that one.” His voice grew even softer. “I was unconscious on the ground when Gavilar was murdered. I can remember voices, trying to wake me up, but I was too addled by my wine. I should have been there for him.”

He looked to Adolin. “I cannot live in the past. It is foolishness to do so. I blame myself for Gavilar’s death, but there is nothing to be done for him now.”

Adolin nodded.

“Son, I keep hoping that if I make you follow the Codes long enough, you will see—as I have—their importance. Hopefully you will not need as dramatic an example of it as I did. Regardless, you need to understand. You speak of Sadeas, of beating him, of competing with him. Do you know of Sadeas’s part in my brother’s death?”

“He was the decoy,” Adolin said. Sadeas, Gavilar, and Dalinar had been good friends up until the king’s death. Everyone knew it. They had conquered Alethkar together.

“Yes,” Dalinar said. “He was with the king and heard the soldiers crying that a Shardbearer was attacking. The decoy idea was Sadeas’s plan—he put on one of Gavilar’s robes and fled in Gavilar’s place. It was suicide, what he did. Wearing no Plate, making a Shardbearer assassin chase him. I honestly think it was one of the bravest things I’ve ever known a man to do.”

“But it failed.”

“Yes. And there’s a part of me that can never forgive Sadeas for that failure. I know it’s irrational, but he should have been