Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,210

she was.

Veil saw more. The way Arshqqam kept her silver hair carefully braided. The engraved ring she wore on her right hand was her only jewelry, and it bore no valuable gemstone, just some milky white quartz. She argued with Adolin—one of the most powerful men in the world—as easily as she might have argued with a water bearer. There was so much to this woman, and yet they barely knew her.

Don’t you want to draw that, Shallan? Veil thought. Don’t you want to come out and do a better job than I am?

Instead, she felt a deep resentment from Shallan. For the things Veil had said to Adolin. The pain they threatened.

The pain of a past best left forgotten.

“Brightlord,” the Stump said to Adolin through her spren, “I understand why you are concerned. Dreaming-though-Awake has read the letters Dalinar and Jasnah sent, then told me the contents. If the honorspren are truly as antagonistic as they seem, then I doubt they will listen to these written pleas. Dreaming-though-Awake says that honorspren can be quite passionate, and would likely respond better to a personal plea.

“However, the arguments you’ve offered tonight aren’t strong enough. Claiming that unless they agree, you’re going to go to the inkspren? They know how badly we need Windrunners, and they undoubtedly know the inkspren are being even more difficult to recruit. Trying to play upon their guilty consciences to provoke them to help? I don’t think they do feel guilty. That’s the problem.”

“I agree,” Godeke said. The solemn Edgedancer clasped his hands before him, seated on an overturned rations box, his squared beard a reminder of his ardent past. “We can’t guilt them into agreeing, Brightlord. Nor can we win them over with threats. We must present our request: that we are in need, and we sincerely wish them to reconsider their lack of support.”

“Zu?” Adolin asked the final Radiant.

The golden-haired woman leaned back and shrugged. “I’m not one for politics. I’ll tell them they’re being storming stupid if they think they can ride this.”

“Your people are trying to ride it,” Godeke said.

“My people are storming stupid,” Zu said, shrugging again.

Behind them, the soldiers packed up camp. It was morning—though that didn’t mean much in Shadesmar—and they were now one day away from Lasting Integrity. It was late in the mission to still be uncertain, and Adolin’s worry was making Veil nervous. If their delegation got turned away, she’d have to find a way to sneak in and locate Restares alone.

Adolin looked down, seeming to wilt. He’d spent a good long time coming up with these plans, and Veil had helped him with some. Unfortunately, he hadn’t shown much confidence in the ideas, and the reactions of the others were further confirmation.

Radiant emerged as Veil searched for a way to bolster his confidence. Unfortunately, Radiant couldn’t think of anything useful—though she did spot someone else sitting by the campfire. “Beryl,” Radiant found herself saying. “What do you think?”

The stately woman was the only one of Shallan’s agents at the campfire meeting; the other two were preparing breakfast. She looked up sharply from where she’d been sitting behind the others.

“I … I really don’t know,” she said, glancing back at her feet and blushing as everyone turned toward her.

“You’re a knight,” Radiant said. “At least one in training. This is our mission as much as it is that of Highprince Adolin. You should have an opinion. Should we present the letters, or should we attempt something more dramatic?”

“It’s … so outside my realm of experience, Brightness. Please.”

It’s not her, Veil thought. It simply can’t be.

“I’ll work on these ideas some more,” Adolin said. “Beryl, thank you.”

“Highprince Adolin,” Arshqqam said. “There is something none of these proposals do properly that I think you should consider. How can you appeal to their honor? Are they not spren of this attribute? I suspect any success we have will relate to that.”

Adolin nodded slowly, and Radiant cocked her head. Jasnah’s proposal tried to do as the Stump said, but Shallan had sensed something off about the arguments.

Honor, Radiant thought. Yes. Jasnah thinks like a scholar, but not a soldier. There was something wrong about her lofty words and sweeping conclusions.

Honor. How to appeal to the honor of these spren?

Adolin dismissed everyone to get breakfast. He walked over to take another report from the soldier he had keeping watch over that strange band of Tukari humans, who continued keeping pace behind them.

Beryl stood up, wearing a flowing dress—not a traditional havah, but