The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,240

four or five men, they’d still been able to keep going. Now they were running with just thirty members. Every man they lost would slow them measurably, and the loss of just four or five more would cause them to wobble, or even topple. When that happened, the Parshendi would focus everything on them. He’d seen it happen before. If a bridge crew started to teeter, the Parshendi pounced.

Besides, when a bridge crew was visibly low on numbers, it always got targeted by the Parshendi to be taken down. Bridge Four was in trouble. This run could easily end with fifteen or twenty deaths. Something had to be done.

This was it.

“Gather close,” Kaladin said.

The men frowned, stepping up to him.

“We’re going to carry the bridge in side position,” Kaladin said softly. “I’ll go first. I’m going to steer; be ready to go in the direction I do.”

“Kaladin,” Teft said, “side position is slow. It was an interesting idea, but—”

“Do you trust me, Teft?” Kaladin asked.

“Well, I guess.” The grizzled man glanced at the others. Kaladin could see that many of them did not, at least not fully.

“This will work,” Kaladin said intently. “We’re going to use the bridge as a shield to block arrows. We need to hurry out in front, faster than the other bridges. It’ll be hard to outrun them with the side carry, but it’s the only thing I can think of. If it doesn’t work, I’ll be in front, so I’ll be the first to drop. If I die, move the bridge to shoulder-carry. We’ve practiced doing that. Then you’ll be rid of me.”

The bridgemen were silent.

“What if we don’t want to be rid of you?” long-faced Natam asked.

Kaladin smiled. “Then run swiftly and follow my lead. I’m going to turn us unexpectedly during the run; be ready to change directions.”

He went back to the bridge. The common soldiers were across, and the lighteyes—including Sadeas in his ornate Shardplate—were riding over the span. Kaladin and Bridge Four followed, then pulled the bridge behind them. They shoulder-carried it to the front of the army and put it down, waiting for the other bridges to get in place. Lopen and the other two water-carriers hung back with Gaz; it looked like they wouldn’t get into trouble for not running. That was a small blessing.

Kaladin felt sweat bead on his forehead. He could just barely make out the Parshendi ranks ahead, on the other side of the chasm. Men of black and crimson, shortbows held at the ready, arrows nocked. The enormous slope of the Tower rose behind them.

Kaladin’s heart beat faster. Anticipationspren sprung up around members of the army, but not his team. To their credit, there weren’t any fearspren either—not that they didn’t feel fear, they just weren’t as panicked as the other bridge crews, so the fearspren went there instead.

Care, Tukks seemed to whisper at him from the past. The key to fighting isn’t lack of passion, it’s controlled passion. Care about winning. Care about those you defend. You have to care about something.

I care, Kaladin thought. Storm me as a fool, but I do.

“Bridges up!” Gaz’s voice echoed across the front lines, repeating the order given him by Lamaril.

Bridge Four moved, quickly turning the bridge on its side and hoisting it up. The shorter men made a line, holding the bridge up to their right, with the taller men forming a bunched-up line behind them, reaching through and lifting or reaching high and steadying the bridge. Lamaril gave them a harsh look, and Kaladin’s breath caught in his throat.

Gaz stepped up and whispered something to Lamaril. The nobleman nodded slowly, and said nothing. The assault call sounded.

Bridge Four charged.

From behind them, arrows flew in a wave over the bridge crews’ heads, arcing down toward the Parshendi. Kaladin ran, jaw clenched. He had trouble keeping himself from stumbling over the rockbuds and shalebark growths. Fortunately, though his team was slower than normal, their practice and endurance meant they were still faster than the other crews. With Kaladin at their lead, Bridge Four managed to get out ahead of the others.

That was important, because Kaladin angled his team slightly to the right, as if his crew were just a tad off-course with the heavy bridge at the side. The Parshendi knelt down and began to chant together. Alethi arrows fell among them, distracting some, but the others raised bows.

Get ready… Kaladin thought. He pushed harder, and felt a sudden surge of strength. His legs stopped straining, his