The Way of Kings, Part 1 (The Stormlight Archive #1.1)

Dalinar raised an eyebrow. “That last one is a little … irregular.”

“You want me to guard you and your family?” Kaladin said. “Against the other highprinces and their assassins, who might infiltrate your army and your officers? Well, I can’t be in a position where any lighteyes in the camp can order me around, now can I?”

“You have a point,” Dalinar said. “You realize, however, that in doing this I would essentially be giving you the same authority as a lighteyes of fourth dahn. You’d be in charge of a thousand former bridgemen. A full battalion.”

“Yes.”

Dalinar thought for a moment. “Very well. Consider yourself appointed to the rank of captain—that’s as high as I dare appoint a darkeyes. If I named you battalionlord, it would cause a whole mess of problems. I’ll let it be known, however, that you’re outside the chain of command. You don’t order around lighteyes of lesser rank than you, and lighteyes of higher rank have no authority over you.”

“All right,” Kaladin said. “But these soldiers I train, I want them assigned to patrolling, not plateau runs. I hear you’ve had several full battalions hunting bandits, keeping the peace in the Outer Market, that sort of thing. That’s where my men go for one year, at least.”

“Easy enough,” Dalinar said. “You want time to train them before throwing them into battle, I assume.”

“That, and I killed a lot of Parshendi today. I found myself regretting their deaths. They showed me more honor than most members of my own army have. I didn’t like the feeling, and I want some time to think about it. The bodyguards I train for you, we’ll go out onto the field, but our primary purpose will be protecting you, not killing Parshendi.”

Dalinar looked bemused. “All right. Though you shouldn’t have to worry. I don’t plan to be on the front lines much in the future. My role is changing. Regardless, we have a deal.”

Kaladin held out a hand. “This is contingent on my men agreeing.”

“I thought you said that they’d do what you did.”

“Probably,” Kaladin said. “I command them, but I don’t own them.”

Dalinar reached out, taking his hand, shaking it by the light of the rising sapphire moon. Then he took the bundle out from underneath his arm. “Here.”

“What is this?” Kaladin said, taking the bundle.

“My cloak. The one I wore to battle today, washed and patched.”

Kaladin unfurled it. It was of a deep blue, with the glyphpair of khokh and linil sewn into the back in white embroidery.

“Each man who wears my colors,” Dalinar said, “is of my family, in a way. The cloak is a simple gift, but it is one of the few things I can offer that has any meaning. Accept it with my gratitude, Kaladin Stormblessed.”

Kaladin slowly refolded the cloak. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Your men,” Dalinar said. “They think very highly of you. And that makes me think very highly of you. I need men like you, like all of you.” He narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. “The whole kingdom needs you. Perhaps all of Roshar. The True Desolation comes… .”

“What was that last part?”

“Nothing,” Dalinar said. “Please, go get some rest, Captain. I hope to hear good news from you soon.”

Kaladin nodded and withdrew, passing the two men who acted as Dalinar’s guard for the night. The hike back to his new barracks was a short one. Dalinar had given him one building for each of the bridge crews. Over a thousand men. What was he going to do with so many? He’d never commanded a group larger than twenty-five before.

Bridge Four’s barrack was empty. Kaladin hesitated outside the doorway, looking in. The barrack was furnished with a bunk and locking chest for each man. It seemed a palace.

He smelled smoke. Frowning, he rounded the barrack to find the men sitting around a firepit in the back, relaxing on stumps or stones, waiting as Rock cooked them a pot of stew. They were listening to Teft, who sat with his arm bandaged, speaking quietly. Shen was there; the quiet parshman sat at the very edge of the group. They’d recovered him, along with their wounded, from Sadeas’s camp.

Teft cut off as soon as he saw Kaladin, and the men turned, most of them bearing bandages of some sort. Dalinar wants these for his bodyguards? Kaladin thought. They were a ragged bunch indeed.

As it happened, however, he seconded Dalinar’s choice. If he were going to put his life in someone’s hands, he’d choose this group.

“What are you doing?” Kaladin asked sternly. “You should all be resting.”

The bridgemen glanced at each other.

“It just …” Moash said. “It didn’t feel right to go to sleep until we’d had a chance to … well, do this.”

“Hard to sleep on a day like this, gancho,” Lopen added.

“Speak for yourself,” Skar said, yawning, wounded leg resting up on a stump. “But the stew is worth staying up for. Even if he does put rocks in it.”

“I do not!” Rock snapped. “Airsick lowlanders.”

They’d left a place for Kaladin. He sat down, using Dalinar’s cloak as a cushion for his back and head. He gratefully took a bowl of stew that Drehy handed him.

“We’ve been talking about what the men saw today,” Teft said. “The things you did.”

Kaladin hesitated, spoon to his mouth. He’d nearly forgotten—or maybe he’d intentionally forgotten—that he’d shown his men what he could do with Stormlight. Hopefully Dalinar’s soldiers hadn’t seen. His Stormlight had been faint by then, the day bright.

“I see,” Kaladin said, his appetite fleeing. Did they see him as different? Frightening? Something to be ostracized, as his father had been back in Hearthstone? Worse yet, something to be worshipped? He looked into their wide eyes and braced himself.

“It was amazing!” Drehy said, leaning forward.

“You’re one of the Radiants,” Skar said, pointing. “I believe it, even if Teft says you aren’t.”

“He isn’t yet,” Teft snapped. “Don’t you listen?”

“Can you teach me to do what you did?” Moash cut in.

“I’ll learn too, gancho,” Lopen said. “You know, if you’re teaching and all.”

Kaladin blinked, overwhelmed, as the others chimed in.

“What can you do?”

“How does it feel?”

“Can you fly?’

He held up a hand, stanching the questions. “Aren’t you alarmed by what you saw?”

Several of the men shrugged.

“It kept you alive, gancho,” Lopen said. “The only thing I’d be alarmed about is how irresistible the women would find it. ‘Lopen,’ they’d say, ‘you only have one arm, but I see that you can glow. I think that you should kiss me now.’”

“But it’s strange and frightening,” Kaladin protested. “This is what the Radiants did! Everyone knows they were traitors.”

“Yeah,” Moash said, snorting. “Just like everyone knows that the lighteyes are chosen by the Almighty to rule, and how they’re always noble and just.”

“We’re Bridge Four,” Skar added. “We’ve been around. We’ve lived in the crem and been used as bait. If it helps you survive, it’s good. That’s all that needs to be said about it.”