Library

Chapter 114

The second rule of warfare is to know your terrain. Your enemy cannot conquer mountains or rivers. Turn them against him.

— Proverbs for Towers and War, Zenaz, date unknown

J asnah stood up at Taravangian’s threat to crush Thaylen City. “You said we were safe! Now you say you’ve got the city in your hand, and threaten to squeeze?”

“So long as we talk,” he said, spreading his hands again, “I will not move. That was my promise. I hold the sword at bay—though you should know that while you were distracted by those empty ships, I put other plans in motion.” He looked to Fen. “You can either negotiate and come to me peacefully, or you come to me bloodied, burning. I’d welcome the former. I will accept the latter.”

Jasnah felt alert, tense. To have a god say it so calmly …

“What proof do you have of this claim?” Fen asked, obviously shaken by the way she’d gone pale, gripping her knees with her hands as she sat.

“I offer none but my word,” Taravangian said.

Outside, clouds moved in front of the sun, and the small chamber darkened briefly. The distant ocean waves seemed to still.

“Not even he can know the future for certain,” Jasnah said, forcing herself to sit. “It’s a threat, not a promise.”

“She is unfortunately right,” Taravangian said. “But my threats are not to be taken lightly.”

“So that’s it?” Fen said. “You come in here and demand I bend the knee?”

“Do you love this city, Fen?” Taravangian asked.

“With all my life.”

“Then listen to me,” he said, leaning forward, clasping his hands. “I do not have time to perpetuate petty wars on the surface of Roshar; I have grander tasks to be about. I must take this city tonight. See that as a threat, but also see me arriving here as an attempt to do it any other way. Come with me, my friend, so that your people may prosper.”

Fen shook her head. “I don’t see how you possibly think this will work, Taravangian.”

“My arguments will stand,” he said, gesturing to Jasnah without looking at her, “because Jasnah agrees. The smartest person you know, Fen, agrees with me.”

“This again?” Jasnah said. “I do not. ”

“We will see. But first, would you like to hear my entire offer, laid out point by point?”

“Please,” Fen said. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Excellent,” he replied. He nodded to Jasnah, who nodded back, wanting to see his hidden card. “The first reason is as explained: I have forces poised to take this city and overthrow it. You, however, have a chance to prenegotiate a ceasefire.”

Jasnah frowned, remembering what Wit had taught her. “They are allowed to lie. It’s only a formal contract that they cannot break, and certain oaths made to others of the same level of power.”

“Nevertheless,” Taravangian said, “this point is absolutely true. But it is not the main reason you should join with me, Fen. The main reason is my strength, and that of my empire.”

Fen sniffed. “Break my oaths to the other monarchs to switch to the presumably winning side?”

“Why not?” Odium said. “Fen, do you realize what will happen even if Dalinar wins? I control most of the world—including the coasts. ” He unfolded something from his pocket. “Here are contracts I’ve made, over the last nine days, with each of the former Azish protectorates, or key cities in those protectorates in too much turmoil to claim entirely, plus other notable cities across Roshar.

“You know of Emul and Tashikk. I have here contracts with Steen, Dawn’s Shadow, New Natanan, even Sesemalex Dar and Tukar—Ishar’s attention being elsewhere. These join my ports in Jah Keved, and my recent conquest in Karanak. In aggregate, I now control every major port on Roshar. Every one, Fen. Except, of course, Thaylen City.”

She took the papers hesitantly, and her eyes widened. Storms. Jasnah should have anticipated this.

“Check if you must,” Taravangian said. “Write to the leaders of these port cities.”

“You’ll still have us, Fen,” Jasnah reminded. “You won’t be without allies.”

“In the best of circumstances,” Taravangian said, “the only ports available to you will be in Alethkar and Herdaz. Think on it, Fen. You will be left with allies who are practically landlocked. You’ll face miles upon miles of coast with no friendly berths. Nowhere to shelter from storms. Nowhere to trade. What is a merchant city with no customers?”

“Storms …” Fen whispered. She looked up at Jasnah. “I … Storms.”

“My third point,” Taravangian said, “is that I can keep your people safe as no one else can. I realize that alone isn’t enough, but in the context of the rest? Because, Fen, the fourth point is extremely relevant. Even if Dalinar wins, you will want to be part of what I’m building.

“I will give your people a contractual say in the management of my empire. A representation alongside the singers, something my predecessor would never have done. You can work with me to shape the world, Fen. Your terms will be more favorable than any in your hand there. They will be spectacular, Fen. We’ll build a true empire, with Thaylenah as one of its crown jewels.”

He leaned forward. “This is your chance, Fen, to negotiate for yourself. You don’t have to rely on Dalinar, or his contest, or his word. You can make your own deal. Isn’t that what your people excel at? Why let another lead?”

“That’s bad,” Ivory whispered in Jasnah’s ear. “It is what Fen wants most.”

“Fen,” Jasnah said. “You have a voice with us.”

“She … is right,” Fen said. “Taravangian, I’m already part of something. I like the coalition, for all its faults.”

“And if Jasnah agrees you should leave it?” he asked. “Because she will.”

“Like Damnation I will,” Jasnah said.

“Ah, and so here we are at last,” Taravangian said. “I have made my offer. Outlined my reasons. Tell us, Jasnah. What arguments can you present that Fen should stay in your coalition?”

Jasnah calmed herself. She couldn’t focus on the full dissolution of the Azish empire; he’d presented this as a dramatic reveal, to make her fixate upon it—and not the point at hand. She therefore kept her rebuttal cool, in control.

“She shouldn’t join,” Jasnah said, “because you—both Taravangian and Odium—are a tyrant, a destroyer, and a monster. You have murdered thousands, and by joining with you and your empire, any monarch becomes complicit in the damage you have done—and will do.”

“I’ve done it in the service of the greatest good,” Taravangian said.

He hoped to use Jasnah’s personal values against her. Well, it would be best not to underestimate the creature with near-deific powers, so she was careful and precise as she replied. “I do not accept that you have done good, Taravangian. Your murders in Jah Keved were in the service of putting yourself on the throne—something you might argue is the greater good. However, there were obviously better ways than murder of achieving stability in the kingdom.”

“And stability on Roshar, Jasnah?” Taravangian asked. “I can see the permutations of time. How many billions of people—slated for death—will live because I stepped up to take this mantle? When I have control of the cosmere, the peace that shall be known will bring joy to more people than you can imagine exist.”

“Is peace your only ‘good’?” Jasnah asked. “Because freedom and volition are enormous goods unto themselves—and being protected from harm, yet being dominated without the chance to speak or fight for yourself, is not a true good. Shall we speak of the writings of Falabratant, of your own home city, and his moral philosophies regarding self-determination? We could write to him now and see what he says.”

“He would not answer,” Taravangian said softly.

“Because you’ve made them all stop using spanreeds,” Jasnah said. Kharbranth suddenly being cut off from the outside world was an unnerving silence, but not unexpected, considering its place as his seat. It was strange he’d managed to keep even spies from communicating, but that city was fully in his power. She’d guessed that he’d done something to stop spanreeds from working in the city, as had previously happened at Kholinar.

“Yes,” Taravangian said. “I have.” Taravangian fell silent, eyeing her. He plainly understood Jasnah’s tactic—getting into the weeds of nuanced philosophical discourse would lose Fen. She was intelligent and discerning, but in Jasnah’s experience, one of the fastest ways to kick someone out of a conversation was to bombard them with minutiae about a topic they had not researched.

“But this,” Taravangian said, “is a tangent.”

“Then it is one which is specifically relevant to the situation,” Jasnah replied.

“No,” Taravangian said. “Fen can’t know, as you can’t know, the things my divine eyes can see. I insist my rule will be the better good, but anything I showed you would be tainted by my touch. You will never believe that I am right.”

A point to Jasnah. By admitting that, by refusing to argue further, he acknowledged as much.

“Then,” Jasnah said, “if joining you isn’t for the greater good, why should she join you?”

“Because she would get a better deal with me.”

“And what of her sense of honor?” Jasnah asked, knowing how relevant the idea was to Fen. “She has made promises to our coalition. Joining you would be to turn her back on her allies.”

“Allies,” he said. “For how long? Two years now?”

“These two years haven’t been without their problems, but we have been a good team.” Jasnah looked across at Fen. “Alethkar, Thaylenah, Azir. We have done well together—better than we ever did apart. This is the start of something valuable, Fen.”

“That is true,” Fen said. “Isn’t it?” She looked to Taravangian, nodding. “All of your arguments are abstract—when I have at my side an ally who has proven themselves. I face you, an ally who betrayed us. So Taravangian, with all this talking in circles, you have proved nothing.”

“Nothing?” he said. “Fen, your grand coalition will fall eventually. You know Alethkar cannot keep its word long-term. What of Dalinar’s attempts to become highking? What about the secrets they kept from you? What about how consistently Alethkar acted without informing or involving you?”

“Mistakes,” Jasnah said. “Which we admitted. We have done better in each instance.”

“Yes,” Fen said. “Dalinar is a bully at times—but I know where I stand with him, and he is doing better.”

Taravangian drew his lips to a line and eyed Jasnah. Seeming displeased. He soldiered on. “The Alethi can’t protect your people, but I can. Forever. I offer you, right now, the chance to negotiate. Isn’t it at least tempting to see what you can negotiate out of me? For yourself?”

“I think I’m fine where I am, Taravangian,” she said. “If you’re finished, I believe I’ve made my decision.”

“Have you asked Jasnah what she’d do in your situation?” he asked softly.

Jasnah frowned. “I’d obviously not side with you. I don’t understand why you keep bringing this up …”

She trailed off, because Taravangian’s smile had returned.

That unnerved her.

“I’ll ask it,” he said. “Jasnah, what would you do if you were in Fen’s situation?”

“Keep my promises,” she said.

“Is that so?” he asked. “You would do the moral thing instead of the right thing? Tell me, historian, do you avoid distasteful choices because they are difficult? Do you search for the non-violent solution, or do you act decisively to protect your own? To do the greatest good as you see it, regardless of the cost.”

She hesitated. Wait. But she’d won that point, hadn’t she? He was obviously trying to turn the focus from himself to her—undermining her value as a credible …

Oh no. Looking at his smile, she felt a coldness move through her. He couldn’t know about …

“Jasnah,” he said, “shall we speak of it?”

“It?”

“The lesson,” he whispered. “The day you came into my city, took Shallan, and went on the hunt for people to murder. The day you transformed living, breathing men into statues and smoke in an alley?”

Jasnah felt cold—remembering that first day when she’d shown her powers to Shallan.

“That day,” Taravangian said, “when you murdered people on the streets of my city, you let your true allegiance—to Odium—be known.”

“What is this?” Fen asked, looking to Jasnah, whose insides were turning into knots. “What is he talking about?”

“Jasnah,” Taravangian said, sitting calmly, meeting Jasnah’s eyes, “once walked around in my city at night, displaying her wealth, hoping that men would try to rob her. Like a fisherman with a lure, to attract thieves so that she could kill them.”

“A lesson for my ward,” Jasnah said. “About making difficult choices.”

“You said earlier,” Taravangian continued, “that your moral philosophy led you to do the most good. And thus, you sought out and killed men who were dangerous. In so doing, you protected women who didn’t have the means to fight back. I commend you.”

“This has no relevance to our conversation,” Jasnah said.

“It is the soul of our conversation.” He leaned forward, hands perched on the top of his cane. “Fen has an extremely difficult decision to make. You are here to offer her council and guidance, Jasnah. Do that. Tell her she needs to do whatever she can to protect her people. Regardless of prior promises. She must overcome any obstacles. Whether they be people, morals, or ideals. Tell her to do what you’d do.”

“I would obviously …” She trailed off again, sensing that there was more to come. He had another blow to deliver.

Indeed, Taravangian patted at his robes, then reached into one pocket and took out a piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully, then presented it to Fen.

Jasnah, feeling a mounting dread, rose and stepped over to look: and saw Fen held a contract for assassination. One targeting Aesudan—Elhokar’s wife, and Jasnah’s sister-in-law. It was signed by Jasnah herself.

Damnation. While she’d come prepared to argue against philosophies, Taravangian had come to argue against a person.

Her.

As Navani walked through Urithiru, she held Gav, who was—despite being small for his age—a little too big to carry gracefully. He immediately fell asleep, his little body giving up and letting him slumber.

She didn’t set him down as they rode the lift all the way to the top. Her mind was on Dalinar, whom she’d abandoned. Logically, she still agreed with all of her reasons for leaving. Protecting Gav. Making certain one Bondsmith escaped. If Dalinar couldn’t go to the contest of champions …

Storms. She’d go. She’d already decided that, hadn’t she? This wouldn’t be a fight with swords. Whatever it was, if Dalinar couldn’t go … she would.

But even that was not something she could focus on. She had heard Dalinar describe this emotion before, this heightened intensity. You leave a man behind on the battlefield, and something changes in you. Her every thought was on how she could get him out. If she relaxed, it would be a betrayal. It didn’t make sense, but it felt like sense.

She drew a strange spren, like swaths of light in the air following an invisible shining object. One she’d never seen before. She reached the top, where Mararin the nursemaid—brought by her request to the Sibling—waited to take Gav. Navani nervously let him go, but fortunately he was fast asleep. Navani gave instructions to put him on a couch in the room next door, where she could check on him. Then she strode toward her meeting room, surprising the guards out front—who immediately drew swords on her.

Told you, the Sibling said.

Navani glared at the guards. A long, uncomfortable moment. Then … they slowly lowered their weapons. “Storms,” one said. “You’re the real one, aren’t you?”

“Let me see,” Navani said, brushing past and entering the little chamber beyond. She and Dalinar didn’t have a throne room; they were too busy. Instead she had this: a chamber with a desk. And today there was someone in her seat.

Navani herself.

One of the Fused? Navani thought with a panic, thoughts of danger piercing—like a pike through armor—her worries about Dalinar. You told me there was a surprise, but how did a Masked One get here? I thought you said they couldn’t use their abilities while—

Look closer, the Sibling said. And they sounded … amused?

The other Navani was halfway through a meal. Men’s food—spiced mashed glibon beans, cured pork, flatbread. The doppelganger’s hands were sticky with sauce, her head close to the table, arm lifted as she attempted to shove an entire piece of flatbread into her mouth. Her eyes opened wide as she saw Navani, and she froze there, juice dripping off the bread and onto her cheek.

“Lift?” Navani guessed.

“Told you,” the younger guard whispered to his companion from behind. “Brightness Navani would never spend so much time staring at my ass …”

“Oh, flaps!” Lift said. “Seventeen bakers and one whore! Uh … I mean … uh, hi, Navani! Um … I did a real good job a bein’ you …”

It was surreal seeing herself quickly wipe her hands and scramble over—hitting her elbow on the desk, then cursing and kicking it, then cursing and hopping on one foot from the pain.

“This was Wit’s idea?” Navani said flatly.

Lift-Navani wiped her hands on her fine havah, making real-Navani wince. “He thought it would … um … stop people from panicking?”

“He thought it would be funny too, admittedly,” Wit’s voice said from behind.

Navani spun, and found Dalinar with a distinctly Wit-ish twinkle in his eye.

“In my defense,” Wit said, the illusion evaporating, “I mostly required her to stay in bed complaining of an illness. I told our leaders the truth. We paraded her back and forth through the hallways to keep the tower calm.”

“She didn’t moon anyone, did she?” Navani asked.

“Hey!” Lift said, scowling. “I’m not that bad.”

The girl was getting more sensitive about jokes. Well, Navani remembered that age, and being the same way. She tried to apply that understanding to Lift, but storms … she felt like she was going to spend years hearing about the embarrassing things “she” had done this week.

Her worry for Dalinar, however, washed away such concerns. She took Wit by the arm. “I left him,” she said, tears finally forming in her eyes. “I had … I had to leave him. And—”

“It’s all right,” Wit said. “Calm yourself.”

“I don’t need calm, Wit,” she snapped. “I need focus. You helped us into this mess, and you will help me save him.”

“Of course,” Wit said. “First, did Shallan, Gav, Rlain, or Renarin return with you?”

“Shallan?” she said. “I have Gav. But Rlain? Renarin? I didn’t know they were even in there.”

“Come. Let us find a spot to talk. I think I may have determined what went wrong seven days ago … and as a result, perhaps I can think of a way to help Dalinar.”

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.