Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive #3)

“Could it lead to Shardplate?” Queen Fen asked.

“Possibly,” Navani said. “But the more I study what we’ve discovered here in Urithiru, the more I’ve come to realize that our image of the ancients having fantastic technology was deeply flawed. An exaggeration at best, perhaps a fancy.”

“But Shards…” Fen said.

“Manifestations of spren,” Jasnah explained. “Not fabrial technology. Even the gemstones we discovered, containing words of ancient Radiants during the days when they left Urithiru, were crude—if used in a way we hadn’t yet explored. All this time we’ve been assuming that we lost great technology in the Desolations, but it seems we are far, far more advanced than the ancients ever were. It is the process of bonding spren that we lost.”

“Not lost,” the Azish Prime said. “Abandoned.”

He looked toward Dalinar, who sat in a relaxed posture. Not slumped, but not stiff either—a posture that somehow read as, “I’m in control here. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Dalinar loomed over a room even when trying to be unobtrusive. That furrowed brow darkened his blue eyes, and the way he rubbed his chin evoked the image of a man contemplating whom to execute first.

The attendees had arranged their seats roughly in a circle, but most of them faced Dalinar, who sat by Navani’s chair. After everything that had happened, they didn’t trust him.

“The ancient oaths are spoken once more,” Dalinar said. “We are again Radiant. This time, we will not abandon you. I vow it.”

Noura the vizier whispered in the Azish Prime’s ear, and he nodded before speaking. “We are still very concerned about the powers in which you dabble. These abilities … who is to say that the Lost Radiants were wrong in abandoning them? They were frightened of something, and they locked these portals for a reason.”

“It is too late to turn back from this now, Your Majesty,” Dalinar said. “I have bonded the Stormfather himself. We must either use these abilities, or crumple beneath the invasion.”

The Prime sat back, and his attendants seemed … concerned. They whispered among themselves.

Bring order from the chaos, Navani thought. She gestured toward the bridgemen and Lift. “I understand your concern, but surely you have read our reports of the oaths these Radiants follow. Protection. Remembering the fallen. Those oaths are proof that our cause is just, our Radiants trustworthy. The powers are in safe hands, Your Majesty.”

“I think,” Ialai declared, “we should stop dancing around and patting ourselves on the back.”



Navani spun to face Ialai. Don’t sabotage this, she thought, meeting the woman’s eyes. Don’t you dare.

“We are here,” Ialai continued, “to focus our attention. We should be discussing where to invade to gain the best position for an extended war. Obviously, there is only one answer. Shinovar is a bounteous land. Their orchards grow without end; the land is so mild that even the grass has grown relaxed and fat. We should seize that land to supply our armies.”

The others in the room nodded as if this were a perfectly acceptable line of conversation. With one targeted arrow, Ialai Sadeas proved what everyone whispered—that the Alethi were building a coalition to conquer the world, not just protect it.

“The Shin mountains present a historical problem,” said the Tashikki ambassador. “Attacking across or through them is basically impossible.”

“We have the Oathgates now,” Fen said. “Not to bring up that particular problem again, but has anyone investigated whether the Shin one can be opened? Having Shinovar as a redoubt, difficult to invade conventionally, would help secure our position.”

Navani cursed Ialai softly. This would only reinforce the Azish worry that the gates were dangerous. She tried to rein the discussion in, but it slipped away from her again.

“We need to know what the Oathgates do!” Tashikk was saying. “Could the Alethi not share with us everything they’ve discovered regarding them?”

“What about your people?” Aladar shot back. “They are the great traders in information. Could you share with us your secrets?”

“All Tashikki information is freely available.”

“At a huge price.”

“We need—”

“But Emul—”

“This whole thing is going to be a mess,” Fen said. “I can see it already. We need to be able to trade freely, and Alethi greed could destroy this.”

“Alethi greed?” Ialai demanded. “Are you trying to see how far you can push us? Because I assure you Dalinar Kholin will not be intimidated by a bunch of merchants and bankers.”

“Please,” Navani said into the growing uproar. “Quiet.”

Nobody seemed to notice. Navani breathed out, then cleared her mind.

Order from chaos. How could she bring order to this chaos? She stopped fretting, and tried to listen to them. She studied the chairs they’d brought, the tone of their voices. Their fears, hidden behind what they demanded or requested.

The shape of it started to make sense to her. Right now, this room was full of building materials. Pieces of a fabrial. Each monarch, each kingdom, was one piece. Dalinar had gathered them, but he hadn’t formed them.

Navani stepped up to the Azish Prime. People quieted as, shockingly, she bowed to him.

“Your Excellency,” she said, upon rising. “What would you say is the Azish people’s greatest strength?”

He glanced at his advisors as her words were translated, but they gave him no answer. Rather, they seemed curious to know what he’d say.

“Our laws,” he finally replied.

“Your famed bureaucracy,” Navani said. “Your clerks and scribes—and by extension, the great information centers of Tashikk, the timekeepers and stormwardens of Yezier, the Azish legions. You are the greatest organizers on Roshar. I’ve long envied your orderly approach to the world.”



“Perhaps this is why your essay was so well received, Brightness Kholin,” the emperor said, sounding completely sincere.

“In light of your skill, I wonder. Would anyone in this room complain if a specific task were assigned to your scribes? We need procedures. A code of how our kingdoms are to interact, and how we’re to share resources. Would you of Azir be willing to create this?”

The viziers looked shocked, then immediately began talking to one another in hushed, excited tones. The looks of delight on their faces were enough proof that yes indeed, they’d be willing.

“Now, wait,” Fen interjected. “Are you talking of laws? That we all have to follow?” Au-nak nodded eagerly in agreement.

“More and less than laws,” Navani said. “We need codes to guide our interactions—as proven by today. We must have procedures on how we hold meetings, how to give each person a turn. How we share information.”

“I don’t know if Thaylenah can agree to even that.”