something out here, Brightlord,” the vaulter said to Dalinar. “I saw it with my own two eyes, and recorded the date and time in glyphs on my ledger. It was a man, a glowing one, who flew around in the sky back and forth over the Plains.”
Dalinar grunted.
“I’m not crazy, sir,” the vaulter said, shuffling from one foot to the other. “The other lads saw it too, once I—”
“I believe you, soldier,” Dalinar said. “It was the Assassin in White. He looked like that when he came for the king.”
The man relaxed. “Brightlord, sir, that’s what I thought. Some of the men back at camp told me I was just seeing what I wanted.”
“Nobody wants to see that one,” Dalinar said. “But why would he spend his time out here? Why hasn’t he come back to attack, if he’s this close?”
Kaladin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, and pointed at the watchman’s post. “That fort up there, is it wood?”
“Yes,” the vaulter said, then noticed the knots on Kaladin’s shoulders. “Uh, sir.”
“That can’t possibly withstand a highstorm,” Kaladin said.
“We break it down, sir.”
“And carry it back to camp?” Kaladin asked, frowning. “Or do you leave it out here for the storm?”
“Leave it, sir?” the short man said. “We stay here with it.” He pointed toward a burrowed-out section of rock, cut with hammers or a Shardblade, at the base of the stone formation. It didn’t look very large—just a cubby, really. It looked like they took the wooden floor of the platform up above, then locked it into place with clasps at the side of the cubby to form a kind of door.
A special kind of crazy indeed.
“Brightlord, sir,” the vaulter said to Dalinar, “the one in white might be out here somewhere. Waiting.”
“Thank you, soldier,” Dalinar said, nodding his dismissal. “Keep an eye out for us while we travel. We’ve had reports of a chasmfiend moving in close to the camps.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, saluting and then jogging back toward the rope ladder leading up to his post.
“What if the assassin does come for you?” Kaladin asked softly.
“I don’t see how it would be any different out here,” Dalinar said. “He’ll be back eventually. On the Plains or in the palace, we’ll have to fight him.”
Kaladin grunted. “I wish you’d accept one of those Shardblades that Adolin has been winning, sir. I’d feel more comfortable if you could defend yourself.”
“I think you’d be surprised,” Dalinar said, shading his eyes, turning toward the warcamp. “I do feel wrong leaving Elhokar alone back there, though.”
“The assassin said he wanted you, sir,” Kaladin said. “If you’re apart from the king, that will only serve to protect him.”
“I suppose,” Dalinar said. “Unless the assassin’s comments were misdirection.” He shook his head. “I might order you to stay with him next time. I can’t help but feel I’m missing something important, something right in front of me.”
Kaladin set his jaw, trying to ignore the chill he felt. Order you to stay with him next time. . . . It was almost like fate itself was pushing Kaladin to be in a position to betray the king.
“About your imprisonment,” the highprince said.
“Already forgotten, sir,” Kaladin said. Dalinar’s part in it, at least. “I appreciate not being demoted.”
“You’re a good soldier,” Dalinar said. “Most of the time.” His eyes flicked toward Bridge Four, picking up their bridge. One of the men at the side drew his attention in particular: Renarin, wearing his Bridge Four uniform, hefting the bridge into place. Nearby, Leyten laughed and gave him pointers on how to hold the thing.
“He’s actually starting to fit in, sir,” Kaladin said. “The men like him. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Dalinar nodded.
“How was he?” Kaladin asked softly. “After what happened in the arena?”
“He refused to go practice with Zahel,” Dalinar said. “So far as I know, he hasn’t summoned his Shardblade in weeks.” He watched for a moment longer. “I can’t decide if his time with your men is good for him—helping him think like a soldier—or if it’s just encouraging him to avoid his greater responsibilities.”
“Sir,” Kaladin said. “If I may say so, your son seems like kind of a misfit. Out of place. Awkward, alone.”
Dalinar nodded.
“Then, I can say with confidence that Bridge Four is probably the best place he could find himself.” It felt odd to be saying it of a lighteyes, but it was true.
Dalinar grunted. “I’ll trust your judgment. Go. Make sure those men of yours are on the watch for