“Dead, sir,” Kaladin forced out. “All dead. We were in Brightlord Tashlin’s company, and—”
“Bah,” the man said, turning to a runner. “Third report we’ve had that Tashlin is down. Somebody warn Amaram. East side is weakening by degrees.” He looked to Kaladin. “You, off to the reserves for reassignment.”
“Yes, sir,” Kaladin said, numb. He glanced down the way he’d come. The incline was littered with corpses, many of them in green. Even as he watched, a group of three stragglers rushing for the top was intercepted and slaughtered.
None of the men at the top moved to help them. Kaladin could have fallen just as easily, within yards of safety. He knew that it was probably important, strategically, that these soldiers in the line maintain their positions. But it seemed so heartless.
Find Tien, he thought, trotting off toward the reserves field on the north side of the wide hilltop. Here, however, he found only more chaos. Groups of dazed men, bloodied, getting sorted into new squads and sent back out onto the field. Kaladin moved through them, searching for the squad that had been created out of the messenger boys.
He found Dalar first. The lanky, three-fingered sergeant of the reserves stood beside a tall post bearing a pair of flapping triangular banners. He was assigning newly made squads to fill out losses in the companies fighting below. Kaladin could still hear the yells.
“You,” Dalar said, pointing at Kaladin. “Squad reassignment is in that direction. Get moving!”
“I need to find the squad made from messenger boys,” Kaladin said.
“Why in Damnation do you want to know that?”
“How should I know?” Kaladin said, shrugging, trying to remain calm. “I just follow orders.”
Dalar grunted. “Brightlord Sheler’s company. Southeast side. You can—”
Kaladin was already running. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Tien was supposed to stay safe. Stormfather. It hadn’t even been four months yet!
He made his way to the southeast side of the hill and searched out a banner flapping a quarter of the way down the incline. The stark black glyphpair read shesh lerel—Sheler’s company. Surprised at his own determination, Kaladin brushed past the soldiers guarding the hilltop and found himself on the battlefield again.
Things looked better over here. Sheler’s company was holding its ground, although assaulted by a wave of enemies. Kaladin dashed down the incline, skidding in places, sliding on blood. His fear had vanished. It had been replaced by worry for his brother.
He arrived at the company line just as enemy squads were assaulting. He tried to scramble farther behind the lines to search for Tien, but he was caught in the wave of attacks. He stumbled to the side, joining a squad of spearmen.
The enemy was on them in a second. Kaladin held his spear in two hands, standing at the edge of the other spearmen and trying not to get in their way. He didn’t really know what he was doing. He barely knew enough to use his shieldmate for protection. The exchange happened quickly, and Kaladin made only a single thrust. The enemy was rebuffed, and he managed to avoid taking a wound.
He stood, panting, gripping his spear.
“You,” an authoritative voice said. A man was pointing at Kaladin, knots at his shoulders. The squadleader. “About time my team got some of those reinforcements. For a time there, I thought Varth was going to get every man. Where’s your shield?”
Kaladin scrambled to grab one off a fallen soldier nearby. As he was working, the squadleader swore behind him. “Damnation. They’re coming again. Two prongs this time. We can’t hold like this.”
A man in a green messenger’s vest scrambled over a nearby rock formation. “Hold against the east assault, Mesh!”
“What about that wave to the south?” the squadleader—Mesh—bellowed.
“It’s handled for now. Hold east! Those are your orders!” The messenger scrambled on, delivering a similar message to the next squad in line. “Varth. Your squad is to hold east!”
Kaladin got up with his shield. He needed to go find Tien. He couldn’t—
He stumbled to a stop. There, in the next squad down the line, stood three figures. Younger boys, looking small in their armor and holding their spears uncertainly. One was Tien. His team of reserves had obviously been split apart to fill holes in other squads.
“Tien!” Kaladin screamed, falling out of line as the enemy troops came upon them. Why were Tien and the other two positioned in the middle front of the squad formation? They barely knew how to hold a spear!
Mesh yelled after Kaladin, but Kaladin ignored him. The enemy was upon them in a moment, and Mesh’s squad broke, losing their discipline and turning to a more frenzied, unorganized resistance.
Kaladin felt something like a thump against his leg. He stumbled, hitting the ground, and realized with shock that he’d been stabbed with a spear. He felt no pain. Odd.
Tien! he thought, forcing himself up. Someone loomed above him, and Kaladin reacted immediately, rolling as a spear came down for his heart. His own spear was back in his hands before he realized he’d grabbed it, and he whipped it upward.
Then he froze. He’d just driven his spear through the enemy soldier’s neck. It had happened so quickly. I just killed a man.
He rolled over, letting the enemy drop to his knees as Kaladin yanked his spear free. Varth’s squad was back a little farther. The enemy hit it a little while after attacking where Kaladin had been. Tien and the other two were still in the front. “Tien!” Kaladin yelled.
The boy looked toward him, eyes opening wide. He actually smiled. Behind him, the rest of the squad pulled back. Leaving the three untrained boys exposed.
And, sensing weakness, the enemy soldiers descended on Tien and the others. There was an armored lighteyes at their front, in gleaming steel. He swung a sword.
Kaladin’s brother fell just like that. One eyeblink and he was standing there, looking terrified. The next he was on the ground.
“No!” Kaladin screamed. He tried to get to his feet, but slipped to his knees. His leg didn’t work right.
Varth’s squad hurried forward, attacking the enemies—who had been distracted with Tien and the other two. They’d placed the untrained at the front to stop the momentum of the enemy attack.
“No, no, no!” Kaladin screamed. He used his spear to hoist himself to his feet, then stumbled forward. It couldn’t be what he thought. It couldn’t be over that quickly.
It was a miracle that nobody struck Kaladin down as he stumbled the rest of the distance. He barely thought about it. He just watched where Tien had fallen. There was thunder. No. Hooves. Amaram had arrived with his cavalry, and they were sweeping through the enemy lines.
Kaladin didn’t care. He finally reached the spot. There, he found three corpses: young, small, lying in a hollow in the stone. Horrified, numb, Kaladin reached out his hand and rolled over the one that was face-down.
Tien’s dead eyes stared upward.
The Way of Kings, Part 1 (The Stormlight Archive #1.1)
Brandon Sanderson's books
- The Rithmatist
- Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians
- Infinity Blade Awakening
- The Gathering Storm (The Wheel of Time #12)
- Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)
- The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)
- The Emperor's Soul (Elantris)
- The Hero of Ages (Mistborn #3)
- The Well of Ascension (Mistborn #2)
- Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)
- Words of Radiance