Oathbringer: Book Three of the Stormlight Archive

“Someone should, sir.”

Kaladin waved for Sigzil to follow him out into the corridor. Together they started walking toward the Bridge Four barracks, Sigzil holding out a sphere for light.

“I don’t mind if you want to be something like our unit’s ardent,” Kaladin said. “The men like you, Sig, and they put a lot of stock in what you have to say. But you should try to understand what they want out of life, and respect that, rather than projecting onto them what you think they should want out of life.”

“But sir, some things are just wrong. You know what Teft has gotten into, and Huio, he’s been visiting the prostitutes.”

“That’s not forbidden. Storms, I’ve had some sergeants who suggested it as the key to a healthy mind in battle.”

“It’s wrong, sir. It’s imitating an oath without the commitment. Every major religion agrees to this, except the Reshi, I suppose. But they’re pagans even among pagans.”

“Your master teach you to be this judgmental?”

Sigzil stopped short.

“I’m sorry, Sig,” Kaladin said.

“No, he said the same thing about me. All the time, sir.”

“I give you permission to sit down with Huio and explain your worries,” Kaladin said. “I won’t forbid you from expressing your morals—I’d encourage it. Just don’t present your beliefs as our code. Present them as yours, and make a good argument. Maybe the men will listen.”

Sigzil nodded, hurrying to catch up. To cover his embarrassment—more at completely failing to tell the right story than anything else—he dug into his notebook. “That does raise another issue, sir. Bridge Four is down to twenty-eight members, after our losses during the first Everstorm. Might be time for some recruitment.”

“Recruitment?” Kaladin said. He cocked his head.

“Well, if we lose any more members—”

“We won’t,” Kaladin said. He always thought that.

“—or, even if we don’t, we’re down from the thirty-five or forty of a good bridge crew. Maybe we don’t need to keep that number, but a good active unit should always be watching for people to recruit.

“What if someone else in the army has been displaying the right attitude to be a Windrunner? Or, more pointedly, what if our men start swearing oaths and bonding their own spren? Would we dissolve Bridge Four, and let each man be their own Radiant?”

The idea of dissolving Bridge Four seemed to pain Kaladin almost as much as the idea of losing men in battle. They walked in silence for a short time. They weren’t going to the Bridge Four barracks after all; Kaladin had taken a turn deeper into the tower. They passed a water wagon, pulled by laborers to deliver water from the wells to the officers’ quarters. Normally that would be parshman work.

“We should at least put out a call for recruitment,” Kaladin finally said, “though honestly I can’t think of how I’ll cull hopefuls down to a manageable number.”

“I’ll try to come up with some strategies, sir,” Sigzil said. “If I might ask, where are we…” He trailed off as he saw Lyn hurrying down the hallway toward them. She carried a diamond chip in her palm for light, and wore her Kholin uniform, her dark Alethi hair pulled back in a tail.

She drew up when she saw Kaladin, then saluted him smartly. “Just the man I was looking for. Quartermaster Vevidar sends word that ‘your unusual request has been fulfilled,’ sir.”

“Excellent,” Kaladin said, marching through the hallway past her. Sigzil shot her a look as she fell in with him, and she shrugged. She didn’t know what the unusual request was, only that it had been fulfilled.

Kaladin eyed Lyn as they walked. “You’re the one who has been helping my men, right? Lyn, was it?”

“Yes, sir!”

“In fact, it seems you’ve been making excuses to run messages to Bridge Four.”

“Um, yes, sir.”

“Not afraid of the ‘Lost Radiants’ then?”

“Frankly, sir, after what I saw on the battlefield, I’d rather be on your side than bet on the opposition.”

Kaladin nodded, thoughtful as he walked. “Lyn,” he finally said, “how would you like to join the Windrunners?”

The woman stopped in place, jaw dropping. “Sir?” She saluted. “Sir, I’d love that! Storms!”

“Excellent,” Kaladin said. “Sig, can you get her our ledgers and accounts?”

Lyn’s hand drooped from her brow. “Ledgers? Accounts?”

“The men will also need letters written to family members,” Kaladin said. “And we should probably write a history of Bridge Four. People will be curious, and a written account will save me from having to explain it all the time.”

“Oh,” Lyn said. “A scribe.”

“Of course,” Kaladin said, turning back toward her in the hallway, frowning. “You’re a woman, aren’t you?”

“I thought you were asking … I mean, in the highprince’s visions, there were women who were Knights Radiant, and with Brightness Shallan…” She blushed. “Sir, I didn’t join the scouts because I liked sitting around staring at ledgers. If that’s what you’re offering, I’ll have to pass.”

Her shoulders fell, and she wouldn’t meet Kaladin’s eyes. Sigzil found, strangely, that he wanted to punch his captain. Not hard, mind you. Just a gentle “wake up” punch. He couldn’t remember feeling that way with Kaladin since the time the captain had woken him up that first morning, back in Sadeas’s warcamp.

“I see,” Kaladin said. “Well … we’re going to have tryouts to join the order proper. I suppose I could extend you an invitation. If you’d like.”

“Tryouts?” she said. “For real positions? Not just doing accounts? Storms, I’m in.”

“Speak with your superior, then,” Kaladin said. “I haven’t devised the proper test yet, and you’d need to pass it before you could be let in. Either way, you’d need clearance to change battalions.”

“Yes, sir!” she said, and bounded off.

Kaladin watched her go, then grunted softly.

Sigzil—without even thinking about it—mumbled, “Did your master teach you to be that insensitive?”

Kaladin eyed him.

“I have a suggestion, sir,” Sigzil continued. “Try to understand what people want out of life, and respect that, rather than projecting onto them what you think they should—”

“Shut it, Sig.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

They continued on their way, and Kaladin cleared his throat. “You don’t have to be so formal with me, you know.”

“I know, sir. But you’re a lighteyes now, and a Shardbearer and … well, it feels right.”

Kaladin stiffened, but didn’t contradict him. In truth, Sigzil had always felt … awkward trying to treat Kaladin like any other bridgeman. Some of the others could do it—Teft and Rock, Lopen in his own strange way. But Sigzil felt more comfortable when the relationship was set out and clear. Captain and his clerk.