Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,308

Azish emperor, who sat on a throne near the side of the battle tent, then walked over. “We regret the loss of such an important ally in Taravangian,” she said. “This betrayal will be felt—and prosecuted—by the Azish for generations. That said, we too approve of your handling of the situation. You did well to remain suspicious of him all these months, and we were unwise to think his treachery was all in the past.”

Dalinar leaned over the table, which was lit with spheres. Though he missed the large illusory map he could create with Shallan, there was something about the tangible feeling of this map, the paper marked up with the thoughts of his best generals, that spoke to him. As he stared, everything but the map seemed to fade from his view.

Something was still wrong. Taravangian had been so subtle for so many months. Yet now he let himself be captured?

His armies in Jah Keved seem not to care much about him, Dalinar thought, reading the displayed battle reports and figures as if they were whispered explanations in his ears. The Veden highprinces will be happy to put their own men in charge. And they seem quick to side with the singers, as the Iriali were.

Kharbranth, led by Taravangian’s daughter Savrahalidem, had disavowed their former ruler and proclaimed themselves neutral in the conflict—with their surgeons willing to continue serving whichever side petitioned their aid. Dalinar would have his ships blockade them just in case—but he wasn’t about to land troops there and fight a costly battle for such a relatively unimportant target. They likely knew that.

The real prize was Taravangian himself. Someone Dalinar already held captive. After the elderly king’s careful posturing over the years, how had he let his empire collapse practically overnight?

Why? Why risk it now?

“What news of Urithiru?” Dalinar asked.

“Windrunners should return soon with their latest visual on the tower,” Teshav said from the dim perimeter of the table. “But Brightness Navani’s most recent spanreed letter indicates that our people there are managing well.”

Navani continued to send soldiers hiking along the outside of the mountain faces to deliver messages. Each new bit told them a little more. Some of Taravangian’s scholars had activated a device like the one Highmarshal Kaladin had found. A separate collapse of the tunnels below—likely the work of saboteurs—made getting in and out that way impossible.

The device was hidden, and Navani hadn’t been able to find and deactivate it. She worried the search would take weeks. Unfortunately, Dalinar’s scouts had proven the device’s effectiveness. If they drew too close, they not only lost their powers, but dropped unconscious.

For now though, it seemed that everyone was safe—though inconvenienced. If Dalinar hadn’t been anticipating the betrayal, things could have gone very differently. He could imagine a version of events where Taravangian’s betrayal threw the coalition into chaos, allowing the singer military to surge forward and push Dalinar’s troops all the way back to Azimir. There, without proper resupply and support, they could have been crushed.

Perhaps that’s it, he thought. Perhaps that was what Taravangian was intending—why he risked so much. The king, so far, had remained silent during interrogations. Perhaps Dalinar could speak to him directly and get more information. But he worried that somehow all of this was according to Taravangian’s plans, and Dalinar was second-guessing himself at every point.

“Monarchs,” Dalinar said to the group, “I suggest we continue our battle for Emul until we have more information about Urithiru.”

“Agreed,” the Azish emperor said immediately.

“I will seek approval from the guilds of Thaylenah and the queen,” Prince Kmakl said, scanning through naval reports. “But for now, I have no problem with continuing to let the Alethi generals lead. However, Brightlord Dalinar, you realize this betrayal is going to make recovering your homeland even more difficult.”

“I do,” Dalinar said. “I still believe that the best thing we can do for Alethkar’s eventual recovery is to first secure the West.”

Each of those words was a knife stabbing at his heart. It meant giving Alethkar up for years. Perhaps longer. With Jah Keved as a staging area, he’d been able to entertain dreams of striking right for Kholinar. No longer.

Storming Taravangian. Damnation take you.

With Kmakl and the Azish weighing in, the sole monarch who hadn’t spoken up was Jasnah. She inspected the maps, Wit—as ever—standing at her shoulder.

“I assume, Uncle,” she said, “that you will be letting the Mink prosecute this campaign?”

“This is a larger conflict than one man can direct on his own,” Dalinar