Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive #3)

“Windrunner,” the king said. “The duty I give you and your men is to get Queen Aesudan and the heir to safety. If the Oathgate works, we take them that way. If not, you must fly them out of the city.”

Adolin glanced at the highlords, who seemed to be taking all of this—the arrival of Knights Radiant, the king’s decision to storm his own palace—in stride. He knew a little of how they felt. Voidbringers, Everstorm, corrupted spren in the city … eventually, you stopped being shocked at what happened to you.

“Are we sure this path across the Sunwalk is the best way?” Kaladin asked, pointing at the map Drehy was holding. He moved his finger from the palace’s eastern gallery, along the Sunwalk onto the Oathgate platform.

Adolin nodded. “It’s the best way to the Oathgate. Those narrow steps up the outside of that plateau would be murder to storm. Our best chance is to go up the palace’s front steps, bring down the doors with our Shardblades, and fight through the entryway to the eastern gallery. From there, you can go up to the right to reach the king’s quarters, or go straight across the Sunwalk.”

“I don’t relish fighting along this corridor,” Kaladin said. “We have to assume that the Fused will join the battle on the side of the Palace Guard.”

“It’s possible I can distract them, if they do come,” Shallan said.

Kaladin grunted and didn’t complain further. He saw, as Adolin did. This wasn’t going to be an easy fight—there were a lot of choke points the defenders could use. But what else could they do?

In the distance, drums had begun sounding. From the walls. Kaladin looked toward them.

“Another raid?” one of the highlords asked.

“Worse,” Kaladin said as, behind them, Azure cursed softly. “That’s the signal that the city’s under attack.”

Azure pushed out the front doors of the tailor’s shop, and the rest of them followed. Most of the six hundred men here belonged to the Wall Guard, and some stepped toward the distant walls, gripping spears and shields.

“Steady, men,” Azure called. “Your Majesty, the bulk of my soldiers are dying on the wall in a hopeless fight. I’m here because Stormblessed convinced me that the only way to help them is to take that palace. So if we’re going to do it, the time is now.”

“We march, then!” Elhokar said. “Highmarshal, Brightlords, pass the word to your forces. Organize ranks! We march on the palace at my command!”

Adolin turned as some Fused coursed through the sky along the distant wall. Enemy Surgebinders. Storms. He shook his head and hurried over to Yokska and her husband. They had watched all this—the arrival of an army on their doorstep, the preparations for an assault—with bewilderment.

“If the city holds,” Adolin said, “you’ll be fine. But if it falls…” He took a deep breath. “Reports from other cities indicate that there won’t be wholesale slaughter. The Voidbringers are here to occupy, not exterminate. I’d still suggest you prepare to flee the city and make your way to the Shattered Plains.”

“The Shattered Plains?” Yokska asked, aghast. “But Brightlord, that’s hundreds and hundreds of miles!”

“I know,” he said, wincing. “Thank you so much for taking us in. We’re going to do what we can to stop this.”

Nearby, Elhokar approached the timid ardent who had come with Azure. He had been hurriedly painting glyphwards for the soldiers, and jumped as Elhokar took him by the shoulder and shoved an object into his hand.

“What’s this?” the ardent asked, nervous.

“It’s a spanreed,” Elhokar said. “A half hour after my army marches, you are to contact Urithiru and warn them to get their forces ready to transfer here, via the Oathgate.”

“I can’t use a fabrial! The screamers—”

“Steady, man! The enemy may be too preoccupied by their attack to notice you. But even if they do, you must take the risk. Our armies must be ready. The fate of the city could depend upon this.”

The ardent nodded, pale.

Adolin joined the troops, calming his nerves by force. Just another battle. He’d been in dozens, if not hundreds of those. But storms, he was used to empty fields of stone, not streets.

Nearby, a small group of guardsmen chatted softly. “We’ll be fine,” one of them was saying. He was a shorter man, clean-shaven, though he had strikingly hairy arms. “I tell you, I saw my own death up there on the wall. She streaked toward me, lance held right toward my heart. I looked in those red eyes, and I saw myself dying. Then … he was there. He shot from the tower window like an arrow and crashed into the Voidbringer. That spear was meant for my life, and he changed fate, I tell you. I swear, he was glowing when he did it.…”

We’re entering an era of gods, Adolin thought.

Elhokar raised his Shardblade high and gave the command. They marched through the city, passing worried refugees. Rows of buildings with doors shut tight, as if in preparation for a storm. Eventually, the palace rose before the army like an obsidian block. The very stones seemed to have changed color.

Adolin summoned his Shardblade, and the sight of it seemed to give comfort to the men nearby. Their march took them toward the northern section of the city, near the city wall. Here, the Fused were visible, attacking the troops. A strange thumping started, and Adolin took it as another set of drums—until a head crested the top of the wall nearest them.

Storms! It had an enormous stone wedge of a face that reminded him of that of some greatshell beast, though its eyes were just red spots glowing from deep within.

The monster pulled itself up by one arm. It didn’t seem quite as tall as the city walls, but it was still enormous. Fused buzzed about as it swatted along the wall—spraying defenders like cremlings—then smashed a guard tower.

Adolin realized that he, along with much of their force, had stopped to stare at the daunting sight. The ground trembled as stones tumbled down a few blocks away, smashing into buildings.

“Keep moving!” Azure called. “Storms! They’re trying to get in and beat us to the palace!”

The monster ripped apart the guard tower, then with a casual flip tossed a boulder the size of a horse toward them. Adolin gaped, feeling powerless as the rock inexorably hurtled toward him and the troops.

Kaladin rose into the air on a streak of light.

He hit the stone and rolled with it, twisting and tumbling in the air. His glow diminished severely.

The boulder lurched. It somehow changed momentum, tossed away from Kaladin like a pebble flicked off the table. It crested the city wall, narrowly missing the monster that had thrown it. Adolin faintly heard spren begin to scream, but that was drowned out by the sounds of rock falling and people on the streets shouting.

Kaladin renewed himself with Stormlight from his pack. He was carrying most of the gemstones they’d brought from Urithiru, a wealth from the emerald reserve, to use in their mission and in opening the Oathgate.