Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,501

Maya.

“Behold this spren!” Sekeir commanded. “See what was done to her by humans. This Kholin asks us to offer ourselves for bonds again. He asks us to trust again. It is vital, then, that we examine carefully the results of our last time trusting men!”

Maya began to thrash, a low growl rising in her throat. She did not like being constrained.

“This is a trial by witness!” Adolin shouted at Sekeir. “You are interfering, and go too far.”

Blended nodded, and other honorspren in the crowd had stood up at the objection. They agreed. Whatever the law was, Sekeir was stretching it here.

“This witness,” Sekeir said, pointing at Maya again, “lost her voice because of what your people did. I must speak for her.”

“She doesn’t want you to speak for her!” Adolin shouted. “She doesn’t want to be here!”

Maya continued to push against her captors, increasingly violent. Some of the crowd responded with jeers toward Adolin. Others muttered and gestured toward Maya.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Sekeir demanded of Adolin. “Convenient, now, for you to care about what she wants. Well, I can read her emotions. That thrashing? It is the pain of someone who remembers what was done to her. She condemns you, Adolin Kholin.”

Maya’s cries grew louder. Frantic, guttural, they weren’t proper shouts. They were the pained anguish of someone who had forgotten how to speak, but still needed to give voice to her agony.

“This poor creature,” Sekeir shouted over the increasing din, “condemns you with each groan. She is our final witness, for hers is the pain we must never forget. Listen to her demand your punishment, Adolin Kholin! She was innocent, and your kind murdered her. Listen to her cry for blood!”

Maya’s shouts grew louder and more raw. Some honorspren in the crowd pulled back, and others covered their ears, wincing. Adolin had heard that scream before, the time he’d tried to summon her as a Blade while in Shadesmar.

“She’s in pain!” Adolin shouted, lunging forward. The spren watching him, however, had been waiting for this. They grabbed him and held him tight. “Let her go, you bastard! Your point is made!”

“My point cannot be made strongly enough,” Sekeir shouted. “It must be repeated over and over. You will not be the only traitor who comes with a smile, begging to exploit us. My people must stay firm, must remember this moment, for their own good. They need to see what humans did!”

Maya’s voice grew louder, gasping breaths punctuated by ragged howls. And in that moment, Adolin … felt her pain somehow. A deep agony. And … anger?

Anger at the honorspren.

“They trusted you,” Sekeir said, “and you murdered them!”

She clawed at the hands, trying to free herself, her teeth flashing as she twisted her scratched-out eyes one way, then the other. Yes, Adolin could feel that agony as if it were his own. He didn’t know how, but he could.

“Listen to her!” Sekeir said. “Accept her condemnation!”

“LET HER GO!” Adolin shouted. He struggled, then went limp. “Storms. Just let her go.”

“I refuse judgment!” Sekeir said. “I don’t need to give it. In the end, her testimony is the only one needed. Her condemnation is all we ever needed. Listen to her shouts; remember them as you rot, Adolin Kholin. Remember what your kind did to her. Her screams are your judgment!”

Maya’s howls came to a crescendo of anguish, then she fell silent, gasping for breath. Weak. Too weak.

Take it, Adolin thought to her. Take some of my strength.

She looked right at him, and despite her scratched-out eyes, she saw him. Adolin felt something, a warmth deep within him. Maya drew in air, filling her lungs. Her expression livid as she gathered all of her strength, she prepared to shout again. Adolin braced himself for the screech. Her mouth opened.

And she spoke.

“We! CHOSE!”

The two words rang through the forum, silencing the agitated honorspren. Sekeir, standing with his back to her, hesitated. He turned to see who had interrupted his dramatic speech.

Panting, hunched forward in the grip of her captors, Maya managed to repeat her words. “We … We chose.…”

Sekeir stumbled away. The hands holding Adolin went slack as the honorspren stared in shock.

Adolin pulled free and crossed the stage. He shoved aside the startled Amuna and supported Maya, putting her arm across his shoulder to hold her up as he would a wounded soldier. She clung to him, stumbling as she struggled to remain upright.

Even as she did, however, she whispered it again. “We chose,” she said, her voice