and focus everything on discovering what was wrong with Urithiru. Unless there were aspects to this that Navani wasn’t considering.
The implications of that frightened her. She was blind, locked away in this basement.
“Highmarshal,” she said to Kaladin, “I’ll try to contact you again tomorrow around the same time. Until then, be warned. The enemy will be seeking a way to disrupt the shield I erected. There are three nodes hidden in the tower, large gemstones infused with Stormlight that are maintaining the barrier, but the Sibling won’t say where they are.
“These nodes are direct channels to the heart of the tower, and as such are great points of vulnerability. If you find one, tell me. And be aware, if the enemy gains access to it, they can complete the tower’s corruption.”
Yes, sir. Er. Brightness.
“I need to go. Lift is awake somewhere too, so it would be worth keeping an eye out for her. At any rate, take care, Highmarshal. If the task proves too dangerous, retreat. We are too few right now to take unwise risks.”
Understood. After a moment’s pause, the Sibling’s voice continued, He has gone back to unpacking his supplies. You should be careful though, how you ask after fabrials. Do not forget that I consider what you have done to be a high crime.
“I’ve not forgotten,” Navani said. “But surely you don’t oppose the Oathgates.”
I do not, the Sibling said, sounding reluctant. Those spren have gone willingly to their transformations.
“Do you know why it works? Powering the Oathgates with Voidlight?”
No. The Oathgates are not part of me. I will leave you now. Our talking is suspicious.
Navani didn’t press the matter, instead making another circuit around her scholars. She wasn’t certain whether she trusted what the Sibling said. Could spren lie? She didn’t think she’d ever asked the Radiants’ spren. A foolish oversight.
At any rate, in Kaladin she at least had a connection to the rest of the tower. A lifeline. That was one step forward in finding a way out of this mess.
When in such a state, detachment is enviable. I have learned that my greatest discoveries come when I abandon lesser connections.
—From Rhythm of War, page 3 undertext
Two days after defeating Taravangian’s traitors, Dalinar stood in the war tent, helping prepare for the larger offensive against the singers in Emul. Just behind him stood Szeth in disguise. Nobody gave the man a second glance; Dalinar often had members of the Cobalt Guard with him.
Dalinar surveyed the war table with its maps and lists of troop numbers. So many different pieces, representing the state of their fighting across many different battlefronts. When he’d been younger, these types of abstractions had frustrated him. He’d wanted to be on the battlefield, Blade in hand, smashing his way through enemy lines and making such maps obsolete.
Then he’d begun to see the armies behind the little squares on the sheets of paper. Begun to truly grasp how the movement of troops—supplies, logistics, large-scale tactics—was more important than winning a given battle in person. And it had excited him.
Somehow he’d moved beyond that now. War—and all its facets—no longer excited him. It was important, and it was a thing he would do. But he had discovered a greater duty.
How do we win? Truly win, not merely gain an advantage for a time?
He mused on these thoughts as his generals and head scribes presented their final conclusions on the Veden betrayal.
“Our troops in southern Alethkar were successfully supported by the Thaylen ships, as you advised,” Teshav said. “Our generals along the coast were able to retreat through a series of fortresses as you directed. They have regrouped at Karanak—which we control. Because none of our battalions were completely surrounded by Vedens, we suffered virtually no losses.”
“Our navy locked the Veden ships into their ports,” said Kmakl, the aging Thaylen prince consort. “They won’t break our blockade anytime soon, unless the Fused and Skybreakers give them heavy air support.”
“We destroyed almost all the Vedens who betrayed us here,” said Omal, a short Azish general who wore a brightly colored patterned sash across his uniform coat. “Your leadership on the battlefield was excellent, Blackthorn—not to mention the timeliness of your warnings before the battle. Instead of burning our supply dumps and rescuing their king, they were nearly eliminated.”
Dalinar looked across the table at the Mink, who was smiling with a gap-toothed sense of satisfaction.
“This was very well handled, Uncle,” Jasnah said to him, surveying the war table map. “You averted a catastrophe.”
Noura conferred with the