Chapter 98

NINE AND A HALF YEARS AGO

T he next morning, Szeth landed back at the Windrunner monastery and strode through the open front gates.

Confident. He was the only hope his people had.

He was it.

Acolytes scattered, running for their shamans. By the time Szeth had reached the Honorbearer’s quarters—Szeth’s quarters—the ten shamans of the monastery had gathered. In defiance of their station, each was wearing a faded red armband, left out in the sun. For mourning.

Appropriate.

“Walk with me,” Szeth commanded them.

“Honor-nimi,” the lead shaman said. Faraz-daughter-Daraz, he thought her name was. A short woman with brown skin and jet-black hair, cut close and curly. “We ten have conferred, and we ask to be sent as traveling shamans to visit villages in the region, rather than maintaining the monastery.”

A profound demotion. And a profound statement.

“I barely spoke with you while I trained here,” Szeth said. A deliberate misphrasing. They’d barely spoken to him. He’d been treated with strict coolness during that year. “Tell me. Where did Tuko find you?”

Faraz didn’t reply, but one of the others piped up. “We’re rejects,” he said. “Turned down by the other monasteries.”

“Turned down,” Szeth guessed, “but not because of lack of skill with the sword?”

“I was one of the best,” Faraz said, her chin up. Hardly appropriate humility for a servant of the Heralds. “I defeated Pozen’s swordmaster in one out of five bouts.”

“To win even a single point on Gonda-son-Darias is indeed an accomplishment,” Szeth said.

“You took him down five for five, I heard,” Faraz said, reluctantly.

“Yes,” Szeth said, surveying the group of them. “But I have an uncommon skill, even among those uncommonly skilled. Five of you are of the sword, and five of the book?”

“Technically,” one of the others said.

“In reality, all ten are of the sword,” Szeth guessed, nodding. “Originally rejected because of your rebellious attitudes, then gathered here. So, Tuko was actually planning a rebellion.” Szeth started down the hallway. “Walk with me.”

They did not.

Szeth turned back to them. “I have not released you. Until I do, I am Honorbearer. Be glad you have me.”

“You killed Tuko!” shouted one of the others.

“As I said, be glad,” Szeth said. “I am more skilled than he was. You will need the very best to resist the others. If Tuko truly believed in Truth, then he would have wished for me to take his place.”

The others considered that as Szeth walked through the quiet hallway. Finally, the gaggle of shamans joined him. “What are you saying?” Faraz demanded.

Szeth turned a corner and threw open the armory doors. As he’d remembered, Tuko kept the room well-stocked. It was a centerpiece of each Monastery of Truth, but many were maintained more out of ritual than active need. Not so here. Swords in stacks, gemstones, armor and shields in abundance. The larder would be well maintained to resist a siege, and the monastery—like each of them—had its own wells.

If he could recruit Moss, they’d have Soulcasting, which would mean infinite food so long as they took care of their gemstones. Unfortunately, he wasn’t certain he would be able to persuade him. Maybe Sivi …

“Szeth?” Faraz demanded. “Um, honor-nimi?”

“Did Tuko tell you why he planned to rebel?” Szeth said.

“No,” she admitted. “It didn’t get that far. He said that the others might attack us, and we should prepare. When the time came, and we were ready … except he backed down. He waited. Until you arrived.”

“He assumed that he could defeat me.” Szeth looked to the gathered ten, and saw fear in their eyes now. “Tuko discovered, as I recently have, that the other Honorbearers serve one of the Unmade.”

His voice didn’t even tremble. Did he sound confident? He felt it, for once.

“An Unmade ?” Faraz asked softly.

“Yes. I do not yet know if they are deceived or aware, but they are actively following the thing’s demands. They call it ‘the Voice.’” He paused, then took a deep breath. “I must declare, alone, that the Desolation has arrived. The Voidbringers have returned. At long last, the day of Truth is here—and it is time to fight.”

Only one Unmade so far, that he had seen. The records from thousands of years ago were fragmentary copies of copies, but the general consensus among scholars was that if one Voidbringer was found, the rest would soon follow—or had already come in secret. He turned to the others, who were them universally alarmed, wide-eyed. Yet then they started nodding. Tuko had been working on them, despite not explaining fully.

“I have hope,” Szeth said, “that I can recruit one or two of the Honorbearers. The others will resist us, so we must move quickly. Mobilize and recruit any among the people who are willing. It is time for war, and for us to pray to the Heralds that we are not too late.”