The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,173

well.” He shook his head. “If I ever want the other highprinces to accept me as their leader in war, I have to be willing to allow Sadeas his authority as Highprince of Information. I can’t rely upon the old traditions for my authority yet deny Sadeas the same right.”

“I suppose,” Adolin admitted. “But we could still prepare. You can’t tell me you’re not a little worried.”

Dalinar hesitated. “Perhaps. This maneuver of Sadeas’s is aggressive. But I’ve been told what to do. ‘Trust Sadeas. Be strong. Act with honor, and honor will aid you.’ That is the advice I’ve been given.”

“From where?”

Dalinar looked to him, and it became obvious to Adolin.

“So we’re betting the future of our house on these visions now,” Adolin said flatly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dalinar replied. “If Sadeas did move against us, I wouldn’t simply let him shove us over. But I’m also not going to make the first move against him.”

“Because of what you’ve seen,” Adolin said, growing frustrated. “Father, you said you’d listen to what I had to say about the visions. Well, please listen now.”

“This isn’t the proper place.”

“You always have an excuse,” Adolin said. “I’ve tried to approach you about it five times now, and you always rebuff me!”

“Perhaps it’s because I know what you’ll say,” Dalinar said. “And I know it won’t do any good.”

“Or perhaps it’s because you don’t want to be confronted by the truth.”

“That’s enough, Adolin.”

“No, no it’s not! We’re mocked in every one of the warcamps, our authority and reputation diminishes by the day, and you refuse to do anything substantial about it!”

“Adolin. I will not take this from my son.”

“But you’ll take it from everyone else? Why is that, Father? When others say things about us, you let them. But when Renarin or I take the smallest step toward what you view as being inappropriate, we’re immediately chastised! Everyone else can speak lies, but I can’t speak the truth? Do your sons mean so little to you?”

Dalinar froze, looking as if he’d been slapped.

“You aren’t well, Father,” Adolin continued. Part of him realized that he had gone too far, that he was speaking too loudly, but it boiled out anyway. “We need to stop tiptoeing around it! You need to stop making up increasingly irrational explanations to reason away your lapses! I know it’s hard to accept, but sometimes, people get old. Sometimes, the mind stops working right.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe it’s your guilt over Gavilar’s death. That book, the Codes, the visions—maybe they’re all attempts to find escape, find redemption, something. What you see is not real. Your life now is a rationalization, a way of trying to pretend that what’s happening isn’t happening. But I’ll go to Damnation itself before I’ll let you drag the entire house down without speaking my mind on it!”

He practically shouted those last words. They echoed in the large chamber, and Adolin realized he was shaking. He had never, in all his years of life, spoken to his father in such a way.

“You think I haven’t wondered these things?” Dalinar said, his voice cold, his eyes hard. “I’ve gone through each point you’ve made a dozen times over.”

“Then maybe you should go over them a few more.”

“I must trust myself. The visions are trying to show me something important. I cannot prove it or explain how I know. But it’s true.”

“Of course you think that,” Adolin said, exasperated. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly what you would feel. Men are very good at seeing what they want to! Look at the king. He sees a killer in every shadow, and a worn strap becomes a convoluted plot to take his life.”

Dalinar fell silent again.

“Sometimes, the simple answers are the right ones, Father!” Adolin said. “The king’s strap just wore out. And you…you’re seeing things that aren’t there. I’m sorry.”

They locked expressions. Adolin didn’t look away. He wouldn’t look away.

Dalinar finally turned from him. “Leave me, please.”

“All right. Fine. But I want you to think about this. I want you to—”

“Adolin. Go.”

Adolin gritted his teeth, but turned and stalked away. It needed to be said, he told himself as he left the gallery.

That didn’t make him feel any less sick about having to be the one who said it.

SEVEN YEARS AGO

“It ain’t right, what they do,” the woman’s voice said. “You ain’t supposed to cut into folks, peering in to see what the Almighty placed hidden for good reason.”

Kal froze, standing in an alleyway between two houses in Hearthstone.