Navani placed something on her table, a device of polished brass about the size of a fist, with a large, infused ruby at its center. The red Stormlight lit the entire table, throwing shadows down the white tablecloth. Navani picked up the device, rotating it to show her dinner companions its leglike protrusions. Turned that way, it looked vaguely crustacean.
I’ve never seen a fabrial like that before. Dalinar looked up at her face, admiring the contours of her cheek. Navani was a renowned artifabrian. Perhaps this device was—
Navani glanced at him, and Dalinar froze. She flashed the briefest of smiles at him, covert and knowing, then turned away before he could react. Storming woman! he thought, pointedly turning his attention to his meal.
He was hungry, and got so involved in his food that he almost didn’t notice Adolin approaching. The blond youth saluted Elhokar, then hurried to take one of the vacant seats beside Dalinar. “Father,” Adolin said in a hushed tone, “have you heard what they’re saying?”
“About what?”
“About you! I’ve fought three duels so far against men who described you—and our house—as cowards. They’re saying you asked the king to abandon the Vengeance Pact!”
Dalinar gripped the table and nearly rose to his feet. But he stopped himself. “Let them speak if they wish,” he said, turning back to his meal, stabbing a chunk of peppered chicken with his knife and raising it to his lips.
“Did you really do it?” Adolin asked. “Is that what you talked about at the meeting with the king two days back?”
“It is,” Dalinar admitted.
That elicited a groan from Adolin. “I was worried already. When I—”
“Adolin,” Dalinar interjected. “Do you trust me?”
Adolin looked at him, the youth’s eyes wide, honest, but pained. “I want to. Storms, Father. I really want to.”
“What I am doing is important. It must be done.”
Adolin leaned in, speaking softly. “And what if they are delusions? What if you’re just…getting old.”
It was the first time someone had confronted him with it so directly. “I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d considered it, but there was no sense in second-guessing myself. I believe they’re real. I feel they’re real.”
“But—”
“This is not the place for this discussion, son,” Dalinar said. “We can talk of it later, and I will listen to—and consider—your objections. I promise.”
Adolin drew his lips to a line. “Very well.”
“You are right to be worried for our reputation,” Dalinar said, resting an elbow on the table. “I had assumed that Elhokar would have the tact to keep our conversation quiet, but I should have asked him to do so directly. You were right about his reaction, by the way. I realized during the conversation he would never retreat, so I changed to another tactic.”
“Which is?”
“Winning the war,” Dalinar said firmly. “No more scuffling over gemhearts. No more patient, indefinite siege. We find a way to lure a large number of Parshendi onto the Plains, then execute an ambush. If we can kill a large enough number of them, we destroy their capacity to wage war. Failing that, we find a way to strike at their center and kill or capture their leaders. Even a chasmfiend stops fighting when it’s been decapitated. The Vengeance Pact would be fulfilled, and we could go home.”
Adolin took a long moment considering, then he nodded sharply. “All right.”
“No objections?” Dalinar asked. Normally, his elder son had plenty.
“You just asked me to trust you,” Adolin said. “Besides, striking harder at the Parshendi? That’s a tactic I can get behind. We’ll need a good plan, though—a way to counter the very objections you yourself raised six years ago.”
Dalinar nodded, tapping the table with his finger. “Back then, even I thought of us as separate princedoms. If we had attacked the center individually, each army alone, we’d have been surrounded and destroyed. But if all ten armies went together? With our Soulcasters to provide food, with the soldiers carrying portable shelters to set up for highstorms? Over a hundred and fifty thousand troops? Let the Parshendi try to surround us then. With the Soulcasters, we could even create wood for bridges if we had to.”
“That would take a lot of trust,” Adolin said hesitantly. He glanced down the high table, toward Sadeas. His expression darkened. “We’d be stuck out there, together and isolated, for days. If the highprinces started squabbling midmarch, it could be disastrous.”
“We’ll get them to work together first,” Dalinar said. “We’re close, closer than we’ve ever been. Six years, and not a single highprince has allowed his soldiers to skirmish against those of another.”
Except back in Alethkar. There, they still fought meaningless battles over land rights or old offenses. It was ridiculous, but stopping the Alethi from warring was like trying to stop the winds from blowing.
Adolin was nodding. “It’s a good plan, Father. Far better than talk of retreating. They won’t like giving up the plateau skirmishes, though. They like the game of it.”
“I know. But if I can get one or two of them to start pooling soldiers and resources for plateau assaults, it might be a step toward what we’ll need for the future. I’d still rather find a way to lure a large force of Parshendi out onto the Plains and meet them on one of the larger plateaus, but I haven’t yet been able to figure out how to do that. Either way, our separate armies will need to learn to work together.”
“And what do we do about what people are saying about you?”
“I’ll release an official refutation,” Dalinar said. “I’ll have to be careful not to make it sound like the king was in error, while also explaining the truth.”
Adolin sighed. “An official refutation, Father?”
“Yes.”
“Why not fight a duel?” Adolin asked, leaning in, sounding eager. “Some stuffy pronouncement may explain your ideas, but it won’t make people feel them. Pick someone who is naming you coward, challenge them, and remind everyone what a mistake it is to insult the Blackthorn!”
“I cannot,” Dalinar said. “The Codes forbid it for one of my stature.” Adolin probably shouldn’t be dueling either, but Dalinar had not forced a complete prohibition on him. Dueling was his life. Well, that and the women he courted.
“Then charge me with the honor of our house,” Adolin said. “I’ll duel them! I’ll face them with Plate and Blade and show them what your honor means.”
“That would be the same thing as me doing it, son.”
Adolin shook his head, staring at Dalinar. He seemed to be searching for something.
“What?” Dalinar asked.
“I’m trying to decide,” Adolin said. “Which one has changed you most. The visions, the Codes, or that book. If there’s any difference between them.”
“The Codes are separate from the other two,” Dalinar said. “They are a tradition of old Alethkar.”
“No. They’re related, Father. All three. They’re tied together in you, somehow.”