The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,122

the cork, smelling what was inside. “Larmic mucus?” He grimaced at the foul smell. “That’s not nearly as effective as the two I asked for.”

“But it’s far cheaper,” the old man said, coming up with a large box. He opened the lid, revealing sterile white bandages. “And you, as has been noted, are a bridgeman.”

“How much for the mucus, then?” He’d been worried about this; his father had never mentioned how much his supplies cost.

“Two bloodmarks for the bottle.”

“That’s what you consider cheap?”

“Lister’s oil costs two sapphire marks.”

“And knobweed sap?” Kaladin said. “I saw some of reeds of it growing just outside of camp! It can’t be that rare.”

“And do you know how much sap comes from a single plant?” the apothecary asked, pointing.

Kaladin hesitated. It wasn’t true sap, but a milky substance that you could squeeze from the stalks. Or so his father had said. “No,” Kaladin admitted.

“A single drop,” the man said. “If you’re lucky. It’s cheaper than lister’s oil, sure, but more expensive than the mucus. Even if the mucus does stink like the Nightwatcher’s own backside.”

“I don’t have that much,” Kaladin said. It was five diamond marks to a garnet. Ten days’ pay to buy one small jar of antiseptic. Stormfather!

The apothecary sniffed. “The needle and gut will cost two clearmarks. Can you afford that, at least?”

“Barely. How much for the bandages? Two full emeralds?”

“They’re just old scraps that I bleached and boiled. Two clearchips an arm length.”

“I’ll give a mark for the box.”

“Very well.” Kaladin reached into his pocket to get the spheres as the old apothecary continued, “You surgeons, all the same. Never give a blink to consider where your supplies come from. You just use them like there will be no end.”

“You can’t put a price on a person’s life,” Kaladin said. One of his father’s sayings. It was the main reason that Lirin had never charged for his services.

Kaladin brought out his four marks. He hesitated when he saw them, however. Only one was still glowing with its soft crystal light. The other three were dull, the bits of diamond barely visible at the center of the drops of glass.

“Here now,” the apothecary said, squinting. “You trying to pass dun spheres off on me?” He snatched one before Kaladin could complain, then fished around under his counter. He brought up a jeweler’s loupe, removing his spectacles and holding the sphere up toward the light. “Ah. No, that’s a real gemstone. You should get your spheres infused, bridgeman. Not everyone is as trusting as I am.”

“They were glowing this morning,” Kaladin protested. “Gaz must have paid me with run-down spheres.”

The apothecary removed his loupe and replaced the spectacles. He selected three marks, including the glowing one.

“Could I have that one?” Kaladin asked.

The apothecary frowned.

“Always keep a glowing sphere in your pocket,” Kaladin said. “It’s good luck.”

“You certain you don’t want a love potion?”

“If you get caught in the dark, you’ll have light,” Kaladin said tersely. “Besides, as you said, most people aren’t as trusting as you.”

Reluctantly, the apothecary traded the infused sphere for the dead one—though he did check it with the loupe to be certain. A dun sphere was worth just as much as an infused one; all you had to do was leave it out in a highstorm, and it would recharge and give off light for a week or so.

Kaladin pocketed the infused sphere and picked up his purchase. He nodded farewell to the apothecary, and Syl joined him as he stepped out into the camp’s street.

He’d spent some of the afternoon listening to soldiers at the mess hall, and he’d learned some things about the warcamps. Things he should have learned weeks ago, but had been too despondent to care about. He now knew about the chrysalises on the plateaus, the gemhearts they contained, and the competition between the highprinces. He understood why Sadeas pushed his men so hard, and he was beginning to see why Sadeas turned around if they got to the plateau later than another army. That wasn’t very common. More often, Sadeas arrived first, and the other Alethi armies that came up behind them had to turn back.

The warcamps were enormous. All told, there were over a hundred thousand troops in the various Alethi camps, many times the population of Hearthstone. And that wasn’t counting the civilians. A mobile warcamp attracted a large array of camp followers; stationary warcamps like these on the Shattered Plains brought even more.

Each of the ten warcamps filled its own