She glanced at Dalinar, who seemed worried. Well, he always seemed worried lately.
“I’m not giving you the Oathgates,” Navani said to Fen. “But someone has to oversee trade and supplies. It would be a natural match for the Thaylen merchants—so long as a fair agreement can be reached.”
“Huh,” Fen said, settling back. She glanced at her consort, who shrugged.
“And the Alethi?” the petite Yezier princess asked. “What of you?”
“Well, we do excel at one thing,” Navani said. She looked to Emul. “Would you accept help from our generals and armies to help you secure what is left of your kingdom?”
“By every Kadasix that has ever been holy!” Emul said. “Yes, of course! Please.”
“I have several scribes who are experts in fortification,” Aladar suggested from his seat behind Dalinar and Jasnah. “They could survey your remaining territory and give you advice on securing it.”
“And recovering what we’ve lost?” Emul asked.
Ialai opened her mouth to speak, perhaps to extol the virtues of Alethi warmongering again.
Jasnah cut her off, speaking decisively. “I propose we entrench ourselves first. Tukar, Iri, Shinovar … each of these looks tempting to attack, but what good will that do if we stretch ourselves too far? We should focus on securing our lands as they now stand.”
“Yes,” Dalinar said. “We shouldn’t be asking ourselves, ‘Where should we strike?’ but instead, ‘Where will our enemy strike next?’ ”
“They’ve secured three positions,” Highprince Aladar said. “Iri, Marat … and Alethkar.”
“But you sent an expedition,” Fen said. “To reclaim Alethkar.”
Navani caught her breath, glancing at Dalinar. He nodded slowly.
“Alethkar has fallen,” Navani said. “The expedition failed. Our homeland is overrun.”
Navani had expected this to prompt another burst of conversation, but instead it was greeted only by stunned silence.
Jasnah continued for her. “The last of our armies have retreated into Herdaz or Jah Keved, harried and confused by enemies who can fly—or by the sudden attacks of shock troops of parshmen. Our only holdouts are on the southern border, by the sea. Kholinar has fallen completely; the Oathgate is lost to us. We’ve locked it on our side, so that it cannot be used to reach Urithiru.”
“I’m sorry,” Fen said.
“My daughter is correct,” Navani said, trying to project strength while admitting that they had become a nation of refugees. “We should apply our efforts first toward making sure no more nations fall.”
“My homeland—” the prime of Emul began.
“No,” Noura said in thickly accented Alethi. “I’m sorry, but no. If the Voidbringers had wanted your last nibble of land, Vexil, they’d have taken it. The Alethi can help you secure what you have, and it seems generous of them to do so. The enemy brushed past you to gather in Marat, conquering only what was necessary on the way. Their eyes are turned elsewhere.”
“Oh my!” Taravangian said. “Could they … be coming for me?”
“It does seem a reasonable assumption,” Au-nak said. “The Veden civil war left the country in ruin, and the border between Alethkar and Jah Keved is porous.”
“Maybe,” Dalinar said. “I’ve fought on that border. It’s not as easy a battlefield as it would seem.”
“We must defend Jah Keved,” Taravangian said. “When the king gave me the throne, I promised I’d care for his people. If the Voidbringers attack us…”
The worry in his voice gave Navani an opportunity. She stepped back into the center of the room. “We won’t allow that to happen, will we?”
“I will send troops to your aid, Taravangian,” Dalinar said. “But one army can be construed as an invading force, and I am not intending to invade my allies, even in appearance. Can we not mortar this alliance with a show of solidarity? Will anyone else help?”
The Azish Prime regarded Dalinar. Behind him, the viziers and scions conducted a private conversation by writing on pads of paper. When they finished, Vizier Noura leaned forward and whispered to the emperor, who nodded.
“We will send five battalions to Jah Keved,” he said. “This will prove an important test of mobility through the Oathgates. King Taravangian, you will have the support of Azir.”
Navani released a long breath in relief.
She gave leave for the meeting to take a pause, so that people could enjoy refreshment—though most would probably spend it strategizing or relaying events to their various allies. The highprinces became a flurry of motion, breaking into individual houses to converse.
Navani settled down in her seat beside Dalinar.
“You’ve promised away a great deal,” he noted. “Giving Fen control of trade and supply?”
“Administration is different from control,” Navani said. “But either way, did you think you were going to make this coalition work without giving something up?”
“No. Of course not.” He stared outward. That haunted expression made her shiver. What did you remember, Dalinar? And what did the Nightwatcher do to you?
They needed the Blackthorn. She needed the Blackthorn. His strength to quiet the sick worry inside of her, his will to forge this coalition. She took his hand in hers, but he stiffened, then stood up. He did that whenever he felt he was growing too relaxed. It was as if he was looking for danger to face.
She stood up beside him. “We need to get you out of the tower,” she decided. “To get a new perspective. Visit someplace new.”
“That,” Dalinar said, voice hoarse, “would be good.”
“Taravangian was speaking of having you tour Vedenar personally. If we’re going to send Kholin troops into the kingdom, it would make sense for you to get a feel for the situation there.”
“Very well.”
The Azish called for her, asking for clarification on what direction she wanted them to take with their coalition bylaws. She left Dalinar, but couldn’t leave off worrying about him. She’d have to burn a glyphward today. A dozen of them, for Elhokar and the others. Except … part of the problem was that Dalinar claimed nobody was watching the prayers as they burned, sending twisting smoke to the Tranquiline Halls. Did she believe that? Truly?
Today, she’d taken a huge step toward unifying Roshar. Yet she felt more powerless than ever.
Of the Unmade, Sja-anat was most feared by the Radiants. They spoke extensively of her ability to corrupt spren, though only “lesser” spren—whatever that means.
—From Hessi’s Mythica, page 89
Kaladin remembered holding a dying woman’s hand.
It had been during his days as a slave. He remembered crouching in the darkness, thick forest underbrush scratching his skin, the night around him too quiet. The animals had fled; they knew something was wrong.
The other slaves didn’t whisper, shift, or cough in their hiding places. He’d taught them well.
We have to go. Have to move.
He tugged on Nalma’s hand. He’d promised to help the older woman find her husband, who had been sold to another household. That wasn’t supposed to be legal, but you could get away with doing all kinds of things to slaves with the right brands, especially if they were foreign.