to turn against their allies. To side with the enemy.”
“The Alethi are their enemies, Lord,” Taravangian said. “The Vedens have hated their neighbors for centuries. Plus their new leaders—installed by your own hand—are hungry for power. They believe you will reward them.”
They had not obtained promises. A god could be bound, but only by oaths. These foolish men believed that they’d be rewarded above the others, but Taravangian knew their entire country was doomed. Every human in those lands would eventually be destroyed.
They were oblivious of this fate, and Taravangian was confident they would do as they were told and attack their former allies. He had spent a year preparing them, promoting the right men at Odium’s command, subtly indicating to all who followed him that the war was a problem for Alethkar and Azir, not for Jah Keved. That the enemy would never come for them.
He looked up to find the god inspecting him with a curious expression. “Do you not fear death, Taravangian?” Odium asked. “You know you are doomed.”
“I…” Taravangian trembled. He tried not to think about it too much, particularly when he was stupid. Because yes, he did fear death. He feared it terribly. He hoped that beyond death there was nothing. Oblivion.
For if anything else awaited him, it would not be pleasant.
“I do fear it,” he whispered.
“So honest, this version of you,” Odium said. He walked around Taravangian, who continued to kneel. “I much prefer it, yes. There is a straightforwardness to your Passion.”
“Could you not spare them?” Taravangian asked, tears in his eyes. “The people of Jah Keved, the Iriali, those who come to you willingly. Why waste their lives?”
“Oh, I will not waste them, Taravangian,” Odium said. “Their lives will be spent as they expect—in war, in glory, in blood. I will give them exactly what they’ve been asking for. They don’t know it, but they beg me for death in their requests for power. Only you have begged me for peace.”
He looked to Taravangian. “Kharbranth will remain an eye of calm in the storm to come. Do not let the others concern you. They will fight in the war they’ve been promised since birth, and though it will consume and destroy them, they will enjoy it. I shall make certain of that fact. Even if they will not be led in this glory by the one who should have been their king…”
As the god mused, Taravangian noticed something—a light emanating from Odium. It pulsed, making his skin transparent, glowing from within. There was a … sickly feel to it somehow. Indeed, Odium stopped and seemed to concentrate, making the light retreat before continuing.
I have failed in many ways, but you failed too, Taravangian thought at the god. The “one who should have been their king” was in reference to Dalinar. Odium had been planning for something for many years, a war far greater—even—than the one that now consumed Roshar. Some strange battle for the heavens.
He had wanted Dalinar for this war, but had failed to secure him. Odium still intended to use all of humankind as his frontline troops, once he won Roshar. He would throw their lives away, turn them into slaves focused on fueling his war for the heavens. He would use their blood to preserve the singers, which Odium saw as more valuable troops.
Merely considering all this horrified Taravangian. It was even worse than the quick and swift destruction he’d been imagining. This would be a drawn-out nightmare of slavery, blood, and death. Yet one thought comforted him. One that smart Taravangian would have discarded as sentimental.
You expected Dalinar to turn, Taravangian thought. You wanted him for your champion. You failed. So in the end, you were no smarter than I was. And for all your boasting that you can see the future, you do not know everything.
Taravangian had seen the god’s plans once. Could he … could he make it happen again?
No. He didn’t dare plot. He wasn’t smart. He was … he was only a man.
But … who better to stand up for men everywhere? In a moment of impassioned boldness, Taravangian reached into his pocket and took out the piece of the Diagram he’d worked on. He held it close, as if for comfort.
Odium took the bait. He strode over and snatched it from Taravangian’s fingers.
“What is this?” Odium asked. “Ah … another piece of your Diagram, is it? Edited, I see. You think yourself so smart, do you.”
“No,” Taravangian whispered, hoarse. “I know nothing.”
“As well