The Way of Kings Prime

by Brandon Sanderson

  Jasnah ground her teeth as Meridas raised his Blade. “You need the weapon to determine where your brothers are, correct? It will point you in their direction?”

  “Yes,” Taln said.

  “So you only need to hold it for a moment, right?”

  Taln paused. “Yes,” he admitted.

  Jasnah turned to Meridas.

  “What?” the nobleman asked with amusement. “You expect me to give my weapon over to the madman?”

  “Only for a few heartbeats,” Jasnah said.

  “That’s long enough to kill a man,” Meridas said.

  Jasnah rolled her eyes. “I’ll take both Blades, then stick his in the ground near the cave entrance. Then I’ll give yours to him. If it looks like he’s going to try and attack, you can run over and take the one from the ground. We’ll let him hold it for a count of a hundred, then he has to give it back.”

  Meridas smiled. “Ah, my dear Lady Jasnah, you forget. I am a simple merchant by heart. What have I to gain from such a bargain? Why would I let him hold my Blade, if only for a moment? There is nothing in it for me.”

  “You are wrong,” Jasnah countered. “There is something in it for you.”

  Meridas raised his eyebrows.

  Jasnah gritted her teeth. She had considered this bargain during the length of their trip in darkness. Meridas was a shrewd business man, if nothing else. She had only one gem to offer—and even it would be a gamble.

  I’m sorry Nelshenden, she thought silently. “There is something you want, Meridas,” Jasnah said. “Me. We are not married yet. If you ever intend to see that ceremony completed, then you should be wary of offence. I will not look favorably upon a suitor who ignores my will in this matter.”

  Meridas snorted. “Suitor? Your brother has already given you to me, my dear. The betrothal, at least, is still official.”

  “It was official as long as Elhokar had me locked in his palace,” Jasnah replied. “He no longer has that palace, and the only guards I see here are my own. I could be persuaded to see my brother’s will in this matter, if it were for the good of Alethkar. But, make no mistake, I will not again put myself in a position where I will be forced to wed. If you wish my hand, then you will need to convince me that such a union should occur.”

  Meridas paused, frowning slightly. Taln was still tense, newly-captured Shardblade gripped before him. Both, however, were considering her proposal. Jasnah sighed at the necessities of sating masculine pride—one would think that a god and a Parshen would be a little less childish. Unfortunately, she wasn’t finished yet—it would do her no good to solve this argument if she just had to quell another one on the morrow.

  “There is one more thing, my lords,” Jasnah said forcibly, drawing their attention back to her.

  “Lords?” Meridas asked, emphasizing the plural.

  “He holds a Blade now, Meridas,” Jasnah said. “Taken from a Shardbearer in battle.”

  “Taken falsely,” Meridas spat.

  “He took it in the defense of Alethkar’s people,” Jasnah said. “Something you did not seem very concerned about doing. We will see which man retains his Blade once I tell my brother how you walked away, leaving me to fend for myself in a palace filled with enemy soldiers.”

  Meridas’s frown deepened.

  Jasnah sighed. “My lords, the First City has fallen, and our king’s back is exposed to an enemy he doesn’t know exists. There is no time for squabbling—we need to act decisively. This troop, wearied though it is, must bring word to my brother. We can’t afford to be divided—we need one leader, not three. That leader will be me.”

  “Excuse me?” Meridas asked.

  Taln didn’t respond, though his eyes narrowed slightly.

  “You will be in command of the group, Meridas, as befits your rank,” Jasnah said. “But I will decide where we go and what we do. It is vital that we get word to my brother, and that we do so without revealing ourselves. Taln, you get to hold Meridas’s Blade for a hundred heartbeats. Meridas, you get my hand in betrothal. In exchange, you will both do as I say until such time as my kingdom has been rescued from its invaders.”

  “You promise to accept the marriage?” Meridas asked carefully, speaking with the tongue of a merchant. “By your oath?”

  Jasnah’s stomach twisted. “Yes.”

  “I cannot give myself over to your command,” Taln said. “I need to seek my brethren.”

  “What will be faster?” Jasnah asked. “Seeking them on your own, without having touched your Blade, or seeking them with both your Blade and the messengers of a grateful king to serve you? Protect me now, during our time of need, and I will see that you have the resources of Alethkar at your disposal.”

  She was making many promises—difficult promises. It was only after she was done, Taln and Meridas considering their separate rewards, that she realized she was doing it again. Protecting Elhokar. It had proven her folly once before, and because of her oversight, Nelshenden and Shinri were dead.

  No, she told herself forcefully. This is for Alethkar, not my brother. I will not see the kingdom of my fathers fall to invasion.

  “Very well,” Meridas suddenly declared, stabbing his Blade point first into the stone ground. In the distance, the peasants were resting from their journey, Brother Lhan distributing the evening rations, Kemnar’s soldiers at his side. Kemnar himself had edged closer to Jasnah’s conference, eyes glittering with curiosity. He stood, Jasnah noted, within distance of striking at Meridas, should the man prove dangerous.

  “I will give you a hundred days,” Taln finally decided. “If we have no success by that time, then I must seek my brethren alone.”

  It was the best she was going to get. “Very well,” Jasnah said. “Swear to obey my will, swear it by the Tenth Name.”

  “Kevahin,” Meridas whispered.

  “Kevahin,” Taln said.

  Jasnah nodded, and Meridas turned, leaving his Blade in the stone. “One hundred heartbeats,” he said. “You need not take his own Blade away. I . . . trust him.” His eyes said he believed nothing of the sort, yet he walked away anyway, back turned to Taln—as if daring the madman to strike against him.

  Taln ignored the retreating noblemen. The false Herald rammed his Blade in the ground, then grabbed Meridas’s abandoned weapon with a reverent touch. She heard him whisper something under his breath—a single word that sounded like a name. Then he grew apprehensive, almost uncertain. His grip stiffened with determination, and he raised the Blade in two hands.

  There was a pause. Finally, he exhaled in relief. “It works,” he said. “The Blade’s powers remain, even if mine do not.” He raised the point of the Blade, turning it to the northwest. “There. That direction.”

  Jasnah frowned. “Taln, there’s nothing but wilderness to the west.”

  Taln glanced up, judging the position of the stars as they began to appear. “Riemak,” he said.

  “The Kingdom of Riemak fell hundreds of years ago,” Jasnah said. “That land is nothing more than a back country of despots and isolated villages. You know that.” You came from Riemak. She left the last part off.

  “That is where they are nonetheless,” Taln said. “Jorevan. They must have gathered there.”

  Jasnah frowned. Jorevan, the Holy City, had once been the center of Vorin power. “It was sacked soon after Riemak fell. A local tyrant now controls the Oathgate.”

  “Why would my brethren gather there?” Taln asked, as if her comments were made in line with his own strange reasonings. “And send me no word? What do they know that I do not? Could they have foreseen that Ral Eram was doomed? Balear’Elin is an Onyxseer. If his powers still work, then perhaps . . .”

  Taln looked over at her, then jammed the sword back into the ground. “We must go there, to Jorevan. We must know what they know.”

  “Taln, I . . .”

  He held up a hand. “I know. You do not believe me. We must go there nonetheless—besides, where else would we go?”

 
; “That, we must decide,” Jasnah said. “Go and get your monk friend. I will return Meridas’s Blade to him.”

  “If Taln speaks correctly, then we are here,” Kemnar said, placing a small rock on the map he had scratched into the stone ground.

  Firelight illuminated the white scrapings. Across the short plateau, Jasnah’s people had been arranged into a tenset different camps, each with their own fire. Their wood—taken from water barrels and boxes of food—would not last long, but they deserved a warm meal following the extended trek through darkness. They would worry about supplies later.

  Around the fire with Jasnah sat Taln, Lhan, Meridas, Kemnar, and—at Taln’s suggestion—a broad-figured palace maid named Denia. Jasnah vaguely knew the woman for her gossipy ways and reputed firmness with her undermaids. During their journey, Denia had somehow become the unofficial leader of the citizens.

  Jasnah studied the map. The Mount of Ancestors was represented by a massive circle drawn at the bottom. A rock on its eastern side represented Ral Eram. Taln placed their group directly on the other side of the mountain, on its western side. She found it amazing that they had traveled so far, bypassing the entire mountain. If it were known that such a direct path lay beneath Ral Eram . . .

  A short distance to their west lay the border between Alethkar and the Riemak wilds. The demarcation ran directly to the north. Crossguard, Jezenrosh’s palace and the probable location of Elhokar’s army, lay on the far eastern side of the country. It would take weeks to reach it.

  “We can’t make directly for Crossguard,” Kemnar said, voicing her own thoughts. “Not only is it too far, but we can probably assume that King Ahven plans to do more than simply take Ral Eram. If he strikes at Elhokar now, he could take the entire country. The Vedens will likely be moving toward Crossguard in an attempt to strike at Elhokar’s forces from behind. If we go directly east, we have a good chance of broadsiding their army—and their scouts will undoubtedly see us before we see them.”

  “Agreed,” Meridas said. “The battle at Crossguard is probably already finished. His majesty planned to strike quickly and efficiently. However, such a plan likely cost him considerable troops. If the Vedens take him in the open, with Crossguard destroyed . . .”

  “We have to get him word,” Jasnah agreed. “Suggestions?”

  “Kholinar,” Kemnar said, placing a rock along the curving lait he had drawn. “It’s almost directly north of us, and Lord Dalenar has considerable forces at his command—forces that are rested and well-equipped. If we can alert him, his messengers could probably get word to King Elhokar in time.”

  “That’s still several weeks’ march, my lords,” Lhan noted. “The people are tired. Could we find nothing closer?”

  “We should go to the first village we can find,” Jasnah said. “We can drop off the peasants there, appropriate some horses, and then ride for Kholinar.”

  Taln shook his head. “Dangerous,” he said.

  “Why?” Jasnah asked.

  “This Veden, King Ahven,” Taln said. “He was clever enough to get access to the Oathgates, then strategic enough to capture the palace quietly. We can assume he holds the city now, and he will be very disappointed to find that you, my lady, and Lord Meridas are missing. His soldiers know someone was in the cellars, and that they disappeared. We didn’t have time to mask our presence there. They will see the dust scuffed where we removed barrels and boxes. They know we escaped.”

  The group fell quiet, the maid Denia’s face paling slightly. “You . . . think we’re being followed, Lord Talenel?”

  “I know it,” Taln said. “I heard echoes in the caverns. We lost them early, but they will eventually find their way through the maze. There are few exits, and all of them come out on this side of the mountain. If the Veden King is half as clever as his attack implies, he will have spies watching this side of Alethkar to make certain that his surprise attack on King Elhokar is not spoiled.”

  Taln bent down, pointing at the map. “He’ll expect us to head north to Kholinar. That, then, is the thing we absolutely cannot do. If the situation is as you imply, then he will be less worried about warning the king and more worried about warning the surrounding lords who did not ride to war against Jezenrosh. Elhokar will know of Ahven’s force soon enough. King Ahven’s task will be to force a battle with Elhokar before Alethkar can gather reinforcements. In order to succeed, he must control the information between Elhokar and his allies.”

  Kemnar rubbed his chin. “He has a point, my lady,” he said. “The Vedens will probably strike quickly at King Elhokar, then move on to take the separate lords one at a time. They’ll probably lay siege to some of the larger lait cities and spend considerable time hunting scouts and messengers.”

  “Then that means we have to get word to Kholinar all the more quickly,” Jasnah pointed out.

  “No,” Taln said. “It means we need to be careful. We crossed the mountain quickly, but the invaders have horses. They will have riders watching for refugees all across Alethkar, and those riders will have orders to kill. Elhokar himself sealed the Oathgates, and since he is probably using Awakeners to supply food, he won’t need a supply line, and information from the capital will not be a priority. The rivers do not flow during the Searing. The invaders will probably allow visitors into Ral Eram; they will just stop traffic from going out. Information will be slow to spread. By the time anyone hears that the Oathgates have fallen, your king will be dead.”

  “What, then, do you suggest, madman?” Meridas said with a snort. “You say we need to inform the king’s allies, but you claim we cannot ride to them, lest we reveal ourselves.”

  Taln moved his finger a few inches, crossing the border into Riemak. “These are wilds,” he said, “poorly inhabited and solitary. If we head northward through them instead of up through Alethkar proper, we have a much greater chance of remaining unseen. We can still send messengers to Elhokar from the villages we pass, but we must do so quietly, without telling the city inhabitants of our identities. Then we can cut back into Alethkar and travel to Kholinar from the west, instead of the south. It loses us a week’s travel, perhaps, but the gain in safety is far greater than the loss.”

  Jasnah narrowed her eyes. “That path takes us conveniently close to the ruins of the Holy City, Taln,” she said.

  Taln shrugged. “Does that make it any worse a plan?”

  Kemnar looked up. “It does seem sound, my lady.”

  She knew it did. There was a reason Elhokar had trusted her with his army’s tactics—she saw Taln’s explanations, and knew that they were right. King Ahven’s army would act as Taln suggested, being careful to isolate Elhokar from his allies. Ahven would have scouts on the major roads, watching for refugees or for messengers. They would kill any riders they saw, trying to sow confusion and keep his secrets as long as possible. Jasnah’s troop was hardly inconspicuous. Even once they abandoned the peasants, Taln and Kemnar had Shardblades that could not be dismissed, and Meridas carried himself too much like a nobleman. Riding through Alethkar, it would take a miracle for them to reach Kholinar safely. Riemak, however, with its unkempt roads and sparse population, would mask their travel quite well.

  Jasnah nodded. “I will consider it,” Jasnah said. “First, we need to find a village and some horses. Then we can decide upon a final path.”

  Jasnah huddled on the frigid stones, her back to a boulder, watching the pitiful remnants of the once-fire smolder before her. The wood hadn’t lasted long—barely long enough to give a reminder of warmth, something near-forgotten during their ten days in the dank mountain confines. Her wedding slippers were in tatters, and the once-beautiful dress had fared little better. She’d been forced to allow Kemnar to rip it up the side, so that she could walk with a masculine stride, and the fine tassels and frills had not been designed for extended use. She was cold, sore, and hungry.

  The night was cool—they were still at a relatively high elevation, and the mountainside provided little shelter from the
wind. The people lay huddled together, clothed only in what they had been wearing when they escaped. Several of the women, like Jasnah, didn’t even have cloaks.

  Yet, her personal problems were secondary to those facing the group as a whole. The coals couldn’t help but remind her of the difficulties to come. So much wood to burn bespoke empty food stores, more than half depleted. They were horribly low on water, and this was the Searing—rain wouldn’t fall for another two weeks. Even then, it would come with the most furious tempest of the year—the Almighty’s Bellow. She had to find the people shelter by then. Being caught on the stormlands during the Bellow would certainly bring death to the weakened and young in the troop.

  Footsteps scuffed rocks behind her. “It’s an odd place, our Roshar,” Taln’s voice noted. “Even during the Searing, the hottest month of the summer, the night winds chill to the soul. Perhaps it’s the lack of vegetation—there’s no humidity, nothing to keep the heat in. This is such a lonely, barren rock of a world.”

  Jasnah frowned as the madman crouched beside the coals, stirring them with a half-charred piece of wood. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  Taln shook his head. “Nothing that matters any more, I suppose.”

  Jasnah eyed him for a moment, his broad form illuminated only slightly by starlight and the weak coals. “Tell me,” she finally asked. “How did you remember your way through those caves? I presumed us lost a tenset times over. Yet you found the exit. You must have traveled its depths many times.”

  Taln shook his head. “Only once,” he said quietly.

  Jasnah raised an eyebrow. “You memorized a map, then? Even still, navigating that well from memory was quite a feat. I should like to see the map itself sometime.”

  “There is no map. As far as I know, I’m the only one to ever travel through those caverns and see the other side. The passage we went through wasn’t really meant to be an escape from the palace—it was built to . . . hide things. The last time I traveled those tunnels, I did so by chance, tracking a traitor who is now centuries dead. I followed him for seven days, and when the trail ended, I found only a corpse dead of thirst.”