Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,226

by the honorspren.

A woman at the front had the highest collar of the three. She wore her hair up, tight save for one small tail of it pouring out the back. That, like the uniforms, was a fashion style unfamiliar to Adolin.

She pulled her not-horse to a halt about five paces from him. “Human,” she said. “You’ve been recognized by our scouts. Are you Adolin Kholin, as we have surmised?”

“Your intelligence is good,” he said to her, hand resting on his sheathed sword. “I’ve come by order of the Bondsmith, my father, to visit your lands and deliver a message on his behalf. I bring with me Knights Radiant of four different orders, all of whom work in concert against the rising Everstorm. Proof that men and spren once again need their bonds of old.”

“Lasting Integrity is not accepting visitors or emissaries, regardless of their pedigree,” the woman said, her tone sharp, each word a barked order. “You are to leave. We are not interested in bonds with murderers and traitors.”

Adolin took out the letters he’d been given, proffering them. He waited, sweating, hoping. One of the honorspren urged its mount forward, then took the letters.

Adolin felt a wave of relief as the honorspren returned to the other two. “Those letters explain our position,” Adolin said. “My father hopes that we can forge a new—”

He was interrupted as the spren deliberately ripped the letters in half. “We will not accept,” the woman said, “a contract from you.”

“It’s not a contract!” Adolin said, stepping forward, ignoring a spike of pain from his side. “They’re just letters! At least read them!”

“By reading these, we imply there is an argument you could make to persuade us,” the woman said as the other honorspren further shredded the letters. “You will withdraw from these lands and take with you the traitor Notum. Inform him that we now know his complicities run deeper than anticipated. His exile is complete.”

Adolin gritted his teeth. “He was attacked,” he said. “Nearly killed before we could get there! The world is changing. Barricading yourselves in your fortress won’t stop the change, but it might leave you completely without allies when you finally realize you need to do something!”

The honorspren unsheathed her sword and pointed it at him. “This is our realm. Our sovereign land. So you will leave as ordered. Humans never respect that, never accept that spren can own anything. We are possessions to you.”

“I don’t—”

“You will leave,” she said. “We reject your offer! We reject your bonds!”

Adolin took a deep breath, each of his arguments dying like shriveled plants starved for rainwater. Until only one dangerous possibility remained. A plan he had barely dared consider, let alone suggest to the others.

When he spoke, it was with the same brashness—but the same sense of instinctive rightness—that had led him to attack Sadeas. “You mistake me!” he snapped at the honorspren. “I didn’t come to offer you bonds with Radiants.”

“What, then?” she demanded.

“I’ve come,” Adolin said, “to face your judgment. You’ve named us murderers, traitors. I reject this, and vow to prove it. Take me, as a representative of the Kholin house and the new government of Urithiru. I am a highprince of Alethkar and the son of the Bondsmith. I will stand in the place of those humans whom you say betrayed you. You wish to reject us because of what they did? Prove, through judgment, that I deserve this treatment.”

The lead honorspren fell silent, then she leaned to the side and whispered quickly to her companions. They seemed equally baffled. Behind, Shallan took Adolin by the arm on his good side, her face concerned.

He stood firm. Not because he was confident, but because he was angry. They wanted to call him a traitor? They wanted to blame him for what had been done to Maya? Well, they were honorspren. He suspected they wouldn’t be able to resist a chance to formally defend their honor—as they saw it.

“You would stand trial?” the honorspren said at last. “For your ancestors?”

“I will stand trial for myself. In turning me away, you insult my sense of dignity, my integrity. You say I am not worthy, when you do not know me?”

“We know humans,” one said.

“I reject that argument. Honor demands you let me speak for myself, if you are going to punish me. Where is the trial? Where is the chance for me to speak? Where is your honor?”

This provoked a reaction at last. The three began looking at one another.

“You are