Around them, the lighteyes began talking, sounding disappointed. They began to disperse. Dalinar’s officers remained standing behind him, as if expecting a surprise strike.

Blood of my fathers… Dalinar thought. What does it mean?

Sadeas waved for his men to take the groom away, then nodded to Elhokar and withdrew in the direction of the evening trays, where warmed wine sat in pitchers next to toasted breads. Dalinar caught up to Sadeas as the shorter man was filling a small plate. Dalinar took him by the arm, the fabric of Sadeas’s robe soft beneath his fingers.

Sadeas looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Thank you,” Dalinar said quietly. “For not going through with it.” Behind them, the flutist resumed her playing.

“For not going through with what?” Sadeas said, setting down his small plate, then prying Dalinar’s fingers free. “I had hoped to make this presentation after I’d discovered more concrete proof that you weren’t involved. Unfortunately, pressed as I was, the best I could do was to indicate that it was unlikely you were involved. There will still be rumors, I’m afraid.”

“Wait. You wanted to prove me innocent?”

Sadeas scowled, picking up his plate again. “Do you know what your problem is, Dalinar? Why everyone has begun finding you so tiresome?”

Dalinar didn’t reply.

“The presumption. You’ve grown despicably self-righteous. Yes, I asked Elhokar for this position so I could prove you innocent. Is it so storming difficult for you to believe someone else in this army might do something honest?”

“I…” Dalinar said.

“Of course it is,” Sadeas said. “You’ve been looking down on us like a man standing atop a single sheet of paper, who therefore thinks himself so high as to see for miles. Well, I think that book of Gavilar’s is crem, and the Codes are lies people pretended to follow so that they could justify their shriveled consciences. Damnation, I’ve got one of those shriveled consciences myself. But I didn’t want to see you maligned for this bungled attempt to kill the king. If you’d wanted him dead, you’d have just burned out his eyes and been done with it!”

Sadeas took a drink of his steaming violet wine. “The problem is, Elhokar kept on and on about that blasted strap. And people started talking, since he was under your protection and you two rode off together like that. Stormfather only knows how they could think you would try to have Elhokar assassinated. You can barely bring yourself to kill Parshendi these days.” Sadeas stuffed a small piece of toasted bread in his mouth, then moved to walk away.

Dalinar caught him by the arm again. “I…I owe you a debt. I shouldn’t have treated you as I have these six years.”

Sadeas rolled his eyes, chewing his bread. “This wasn’t for you alone. So long as everyone thought you were behind the attempt, nobody would figure out who really tried to have Elhokar killed. And someone did, Dalinar. I don’t accept eight gemstones cracking in one fight. The strap alone would have been a ridiculous way to attempt an assassination, but with weakened Shardplate…I’m half tempted to believe that the surprise arrival of the chasmfiend was orchestrated too. How someone would manage that though, I have no idea.”

“And the talk of me being framed?” Dalinar asked.

“Mostly to give the others something to gossip about while I sort through what’s really happening.” Sadeas looked down at Dalinar’s hand on his arm. “Would you let go?”

Dalinar released his grip.

Sadeas set down his plate, straightening his robe and dusting off the shoulder. “I haven’t give up on you yet, Dalinar. I’m probably going to need you before this is all through. I do have to say, though, I don’t know what to make of you lately. That talk of you wanting to abandon the Vengeance Pact. Is there any truth to that?”

“I mentioned it, in confidence, to Elhokar as a means of exploring options. So yes, there’s truth to it, if you must know. I’m tired of this fighting. I’m tired of these Plains, of being away from civilization, of killing Parshendi a handful at a time. However, I’ve given up on getting us to retreat. Instead, I want to win. But the highprinces won’t listen! They all assume that I’m trying to dominate them with some crafty trick.”

Sadeas snorted. “You’d sooner punch a man in the face than stab him in the back. Blessedly straightforward.”

“Ally with me,” Dalinar said after him.

Sadeas froze.

“You know I’m not going to betray you, Sadeas,” Dalinar said. “You trust me as the others never can. Try what I’ve been trying to get the other highprinces to agree to. Jointly assault plateaus with me.”

“Won’t work,” Sadeas said. “There’s no reason to bring more than one army on an assault. I leave half my troops behind each time as it is. There isn’t room for more to maneuver.”

“Yes, but think,” Dalinar said. “What if we tried new tactics? Your quick bridge crews are fast, but my troops are stronger. What if you pushed quickly to a plateau with an advance force to hold off the Parshendi? You could hold until my stronger, but slower, forces arrive.”

That gave Sadeas pause.

“It could mean a Shardblade, Sadeas.”

Sadeas’s eyes grew hungry.

“I know you’ve fought Parshendi Shardbearers,” Dalinar said, seizing on that thread, “But you’ve lost. Without a Blade, you’re at a disadvantage.” Parshendi Shardbearers had a habit of escaping after entering battles. Regular spearmen couldn’t kill one, of course. It took a Shardbearer to kill a Shardbearer. “I’ve slain two in the past. I don’t often have the opportunity, however, because I can’t get to the plateaus quickly enough. You can. Together, we can win more often, and I can get you a Blade. We can do this, Sadeas. Together. Like the old days.”

“The old days,” he said idly. “I’d like to see the Blackthorn in battle again. How would we split the gemhearts?”

“Two-thirds to you,” Dalinar said. “As you’ve got twice as good a record at winning assaults as I have.”

Sadeas looked thoughtful. “And the Shardblades?”

“If we find a Shardbearer, Adolin and I will take him. You win the Blade.” He raised a finger. “But I win the Plate. To give to my son, Renarin.”

“The invalid?”

“What would you care?” Dalinar said. “You already have Plate. Sadeas, this could mean winning the war. If we start to work together, we could bring the others in, prepare for a large-scale assault. Storms! We might not even need that. We two have the largest armies; if we could find a way to catch the Parshendi on a large enough plateau with the bulk of our troops—surrounding them so they couldn’t escape—we might be able to damage their forces enough to bring an end to this all.”

Sadeas mulled it over. Then he shrugged. “Very well. Send me details via messenger. But do it later. I’ve already missed too much of tonight’s feast.”

“A woman sits and scratches out her own eyes. Daughter of kings and winds, the vandal.”

—Dated Palahevan, 1173, 73 seconds pre-death. Subject: a beggar of some renown, known for his elegant songs.