at our screams of horror.”
Adolin turned to open the small sliding shutter up to the driver’s perch and gave the order. Kaladin watched Shallan, who sat back, a self-satisfied smile on her face. She had an ulterior motive for going to the menagerie. What was it?
Adolin turned back around and asked after her day. Kaladin listened with half an ear, studying Shallan, trying to pick out any knives hidden on her person. She blushed at something Adolin said, then laughed. Kaladin didn’t really like Adolin, but at least the prince was honest. He had his father’s earnest temperament, and had always been straight with Kaladin. Dismissive and spoiled, but straight.
This woman was different. Her movements were calculated. The way she laughed, the way she chose her words. She would giggle and blush, but her eyes were always discerning, always watching. She exemplified what made him sick about lighteyed culture.
You’re just in an irritable mood, part of him acknowledged. It happened sometimes, more often when the sky was cloudy. But did they have to act nauseatingly cheery?
He kept an eye on Shallan as the ride continued, and eventually decided he was being too suspicious of her. She wasn’t an immediate threat to Adolin. He found his mind drifting back toward the night in the chasms. Riding the winds, Light churning inside of him. Freedom.
No, not just freedom. Purpose.
You have a purpose, Kaladin thought, dragging his mind back to the present. Guard Adolin. This was an ideal job for a soldier, one others dreamed of. Great pay, his own squad to command, an important task. A dependable commander. It was perfect.
But those winds . . .
“Oh!” Shallan said, reaching for her satchel and digging into it. “I brought that account for you, Adolin.” She hesitated, glancing at Kaladin.
“You can trust him,” Adolin said, somewhat grudgingly. “He’s saved my life twice, and Father lets him guard us at even the most important meetings.”
Shallan took out several sheets of paper with notes on them in the scribble-like women’s script. “Eighteen years ago, Highprince Yenev was a force in Alethkar, one of the most powerful highprinces who opposed King Gavilar’s unification campaign. Yenev wasn’t defeated in battle. He was killed in a duel. By Sadeas.”
Adolin nodded, leaning forward, eager.
“Here is Brightness Ialai’s own account of events,” Shallan said. “‘Bringing down Yenev was an act of inspired simplicity. My husband spoke with Gavilar regarding the Right of Challenge and the King’s Boon, ancient traditions that many of the lighteyes knew, but ignored in modern circumstances.
“‘As traditions that shared a relationship to the historical crown, invoking them echoed our right of rule. The occasion was a gala of might and renown, and my husband first entered into a duel with another man.’”
“A what of might and renown?” Kaladin asked.
Both looked at him, as if surprised to hear him speak. Keep forgetting I’m here, do you? Kaladin thought. You prefer to ignore darkeyes.
“A gala of might and renown,” Adolin said. “It’s fancy speak for a tournament. They were common back then. Ways for the highprinces who happened to be at peace with one another to show off.”
“We need a way for Adolin to duel, or at least discredit, Sadeas,” Shallan explained. “While thinking about it, I remembered a reference to the Yenev duel in Jasnah’s biography of the old king.”
“All right . . .” Kaladin said, frowning.
“‘The purpose,’” Shallan continued, holding up her finger as she read further from the account, “‘of this preliminary duel was to conspicuously awe and impress the highprinces. Though we had plotted this earlier, the first man to be defeated did not know of his role in our ploy. Sadeas defeated him with calculated spectacle. He paused the fighting at several points and raised the stakes, first with money, then with lands.
“‘In the end, the victory was dramatic. With the crowd so engaged, King Gavilar stood and offered Sadeas a boon for having pleased him, after the ancient tradition. Sadeas’s reply was simple: ‘I will have no boon other than Yenev’s cowardly heart on the end of my sword, Your Majesty!’”
“You’re kidding,” Adolin said. “Blowhard Sadeas said it like that?”
“The event, along with his words, is recorded in several major histories,” Shallan said. “Sadeas then dueled Yenev, killed the man, and made an opening for an ally—Aladar—to take control of that princedom instead.”
Adolin nodded thoughtfully. “It could work, Shallan. I can try the same thing—make a spectacle of my fight with Relis and the other person he brings, wow the crowd, earn a