Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive #3)

Warmth continued to bathe him. Light.

“ ‘On my sixtieth day,’ ” Dalinar whispered, “ ‘I passed a town whose name shall remain unspoken. Though still in lands that named me king, I was far enough from my home to go unrecognized. Not even those men who handled my face daily—in the form of my seal imprinted upon their letters of authority—would have known this humble traveler as their king.’ ”

Taravangian looked to him, confused.

“It’s a quote from a book,” Dalinar said. “A king long ago took a journey. His destination was this very city. Urithiru.”

“Ah…” Taravangian said. “The Way of Kings, is it? Adrotagia has mentioned that book.”

“Yes,” Dalinar said. “ ‘In this town, I found men bedeviled. There had been a murder. A hogman, tasked in protecting the landlord’s beasts, had been assaulted. He lived long enough, only, to whisper that three of the other hogmen had gathered together and done the crime.

“ ‘I arrived as questions were being raised, and men interrogated. You see, there were four other hogmen in the landlord’s employ. Three of them had been responsible for the assault, and likely would have escaped suspicion had they finished their grim job. Each of the four loudly proclaimed that he was the one who had not been part of the cabal. No amount of interrogation determined the truth.’ ”

Dalinar fell silent.

“What happened?” Taravangian asked.

“He doesn’t say at first,” Dalinar replied. “Throughout his book, he raises the question again and again. Three of those men were violent threats, guilty of premeditated murder. One was innocent. What do you do?”

“Hang all four,” Taravangian whispered.

Dalinar—surprised to hear such bloodthirst from the other man—turned. Taravangian looked sorrowful, not bloodthirsty at all.

“The landlord’s job,” Taravangian said, “is to prevent further murders. I doubt that what the book records actually happened. It is too neat, too simple a parable. Our lives are far messier. But assuming the story did occur as claimed, and there was absolutely no way of determining who was guilty … you have to hang all four. Don’t you?”

“What of the innocent man?”

“One innocent dead, but three murderers stopped. Is it not the best good that can be done, and the best way to protect your people?” Taravangian rubbed his forehead. “Stormfather. I sound like a madman, don’t I? But is it not a particular madness to be charged with such decisions? It’s difficult to address such questions without revealing our own hypocrisy.”

Hypocrite, Amaram accused Dalinar in his mind.

He and Gavilar hadn’t used pretty justifications when they’d gone to war. They’d done as men did: they’d conquered. Only later had Gavilar started to seek validation for their actions.

“Why not let them all go?” Dalinar said. “If you can’t prove who is guilty—if you can’t be sure—I think you should let them go.”

“Yes … one innocent in four is too many for you. That makes sense too.”

“No, any innocent is too many.”

“You say that,” Taravangian said. “Many people do, but our laws will claim innocent men—for all judges are flawed, as is our knowledge. Eventually, you will execute someone who does not deserve it. This is the burden society must carry in exchange for order.”

“I hate that,” Dalinar said softly.

“Yes … I do too. But it’s not a matter of morality, is it? It’s a matter of thresholds. How many guilty may be punished before you’d accept one innocent casualty? A thousand? Ten thousand? A hundred? When you consider, all calculations are meaningless except one. Has more good been done than evil? If so, then the law has done its job. And so … I must hang all four men.” He paused. “And I would weep, every night, for having done it.”

Damnation. Again, Dalinar reassessed his impression of Taravangian. The king was soft-spoken, but not slow. He was simply a man who liked to consider a great long time before committing.

“Nohadon eventually wrote,” Dalinar said, “that the landlord took a modest approach. He imprisoned all four. Though the punishment should have been death, he mixed together the guilt and innocence, and determined that the average guilt of the four should deserve only prison.”

“He was unwilling to commit,” Taravangian said. “He wasn’t seeking justice, but to assuage his own conscience.”

“What he did was, nevertheless, another option.”

“Does your king ever say what he would have done?” Taravangian asked. “The one who wrote the book?”

“He said the only course was to let the Almighty guide, and let each instance be judged differently, depending on circumstances.”

“So he too was unwilling to commit,” Taravangian said. “I would have expected more.”

“His book was about his journey,” Dalinar said. “And his questions. I think this was one he never fully answered for himself. I wish he had.”

They sat by the not-fire for a time before Taravangian eventually stood and rested his hand on Dalinar’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said softly, then left.

He was a good man, the Stormfather said.

“Nohadon?” Dalinar said.

Yes.

Feeling stiff, Dalinar rose from his seat and made his way through his rooms. He didn’t stop at the bedroom, though the hour was growing late, and instead made his way onto his balcony. To look out over the clouds.

Taravangian is wrong, the Stormfather said. You are not a hypocrite, Son of Honor.

“I am,” Dalinar said softly. “But sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a person who is in the process of changing.”

The Stormfather rumbled. He didn’t like the idea of change.

Do I go to war with the other kingdoms, Dalinar thought, and maybe save the world? Or do I sit here and pretend that I can do all this on my own?

“Do you have any more visions of Nohadon?” Dalinar asked the Stormfather, hopeful.

I have shown you all that was created for you to see, the Stormfather said. I can show no more.

“Then I should like to rewatch the vision where I met Nohadon,” Dalinar said. “Though let me go fetch Navani before you begin. I want her to record what I say.”

Would you rather I show the vision to her as well? the Stormfather asked. She could record it herself that way.

Dalinar froze. “You can show the visions to others?”

I was given this leave: to choose those who would best be served by the visions. He paused, then grudgingly continued. To choose a Bondsmith.

No, he did not like the idea of being bonded, but it was part of what he’d been commanded to do.

Dalinar barely considered that thought.

The Stormfather could show the visions to others.

“Anyone?” Dalinar said. “You can show them to anyone?”

During a storm, I can approach anyone I choose, the Stormfather said. But you do not have to be in a storm, so you can join a vision in which I have placed someone else, even if you are distant.

Storms! Dalinar bellowed a laugh.

What have I done? the Stormfather asked.

“You’ve just solved my problem!”