What if they take you captive?” Goradel asked.
“My dear man,” Breeze said, leaning forward to look out at Goradel. “That’s why kings send ambassadors. This way, if someone gets captured, the king is still safe. We, my friend, are something Elend can never be: expendable.”
Goradel frowned at that. “I don’t feel very expendable.
Mots clés expendable
If you can read the book and say, ‘Space Marines, YEEEAAAHHH!’ That’s Military Science Fiction.” (Brigham Young writing lecture, March 2012)
Brandon SandersonMots clés writing science-fiction brandon-sanderson military-sf
I'm not really sure why. But... do you stop loving someone just because they betray you? I don't think so. That's what makes the betrayal hurt so much - pain, frustration, anger... and I still loved her. I still do.
Brandon SandersonMots clés pain love hurt frustration anger betrayal
What a pair they were - a Mistborn who felt guilty wasting coins to jump and a nobleman who thought balls were too expensive.
Brandon SandersonMots clés humor money frugality
Wit was insulting each person as they stepped onto the island. “Brightness Marakal! What a
disaster that hairstyle is; how brave of you to show it to the world. Brightlord Marakal, I wish you’d
warned us you were going to attend; I’d have forgone supper. I do so hate being sick after a full meal.
Brightlord Cadilar! How good it is to see you. Your face reminds me of someone dear to me.”
“Really?” wizened Cadilar said, hesitating.
“Yes,” Wit said, waving him on, “my horse. Ah, Brightlord Neteb, you smell unique today—did you
attack a wet whitespine, or did one just sneeze on you? Lady Alami! No, please, don’t speak—it’s much
easier to maintain my illusions regarding your intelligence that way. And Brightlord Dalinar.” Wit nodded
to Dalinar as he passed. “Ah, my dear Brightlord Taselin. Still engaged in your experiment to prove a
maximum threshold of human idiocy? Good for you! Very empirical of you.
I need you, Teft,” Kaladin said.
“I said—”
“Not your food. You. Your loyalty. Your allegiance.”
The older man continued to eat. He didn’t have a slave brand, and neither did Rock. Kaladin didn’t
know their stories. All he knew was that these two had helped when others hadn’t. They weren’t
completely beaten down.
“Teft—” Kaladin began.
“I’ve given my loyalty before,” the man said. “Too many times now. Always works out the same.”
“Your trust gets betrayed?” Kaladin asked softly.
Teft snorted. “Storms, no. I betray it. You can’t depend on me, son. I belong here, as a
bridgeman.”
“I depended on you yesterday, and you impressed me.”
“Fluke.”
“I’ll judge that,” Kaladin said. “Teft, we’re all broken, in one way or another. Otherwise we
wouldn’t be bridgemen. I’ve failed. My own brother died because of me.”
“So why keep caring?”
“It’s either that or give up and die.”
“And if death is better?”
It came back to this problem. This was why the bridgemen didn’t care if he helped the wounded or
not.
“Death isn’t better,” Kaladin said, looking Teft in the eyes. “Oh, it’s easy to say that now. But when
you stand on the ledge and look down into that dark, endless pit, you change your mind. Just like
Hobber did. Just like I’ve done.” He hesitated, seeing something in the older man’s eyes. “I think you’ve
seen it too.”
“Aye,” Teft said softly. “Aye, I have.”
“So, are you with us in this thing?” Rock said, squatting down.
Us? Kaladin thought, smiling faintly.
Teft looked back and forth between the two of them. “I get to keep my food?”
“Yes,” Kaladin said.
Teft shrugged. “All right then, I guess. Can’t be any harder than sitting here and having a staring
contest with mortality.
How can you be a lighteyes without light eyes?” Teft said with a scowl.
“By having dark eyes,” Rock said, as if it were obvious. “We do not pick our leaders this way. Is complicated. But do not interrupt story.” He milked another reed, tossing the husk into a pile beside him.
“The nuatoma, they see our lack of Shards as great shame. They want these weapons very badly. It is believed that the nuatoma who first obtains a Shardblade would become king, a thing we have not had for many years. No peak would fight another peak where a man held one of the blessed Blades.”
“So you came to buy one?” Kaladin asked. No Shardbearer would sell his weapon. Each was a
distinctive relic, taken from one of the Lost Radiants after their betrayal.
Rock laughed. “Ha! Buy? No, we are not so foolish as this. But my nuatoma, he knew of your tradition, eh? It says that if a man kills a Shardbearer, he may take the Blade and Plate as his own. And
so my nuatoma and his house, we made a grand procession, coming down to find and kill one of your Shardbearers.”
Kaladin almost laughed. “I assume it proved more difficult than that.”
“My nuatoma was not a fool,” Rock said, defensive. “He knew this thing would be difficult, but your tradition, it gives us hope, you see? Occasionally, a brave nuatoma will come down to duel a
Shardbearer. Someday, one will win, and we will have Shards.
Dalinar forced himself to be calm. "Roion, we cannot continue to treat this war as a game."
"All wars are games. The greatest kind, with the pieces lost real lives, the prizes captured making for real wealth! This is the life for which men exist. To fight, to kill, to win.
Well,” Waxillium said. “Perhaps I should begin by asking after your health.”
“Perhaps you should,” Steris replied.
“Er. Yes. How’s your health?”
“Suitable.”
“So is Waxillium,” Wayne added.
They all turned to him.
“You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?
Mots clés suitable
I need something, Wax. A place to look. You always did the thinking.”
“Yes, having a brain helps with that, surprisingly.
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