The Way of Kings

Sadeas frowned at this. In front of them, the two swordsmen continued their duel; Elhokar watched keenly. He loved duels. Bringing in sand to coat the floor of this arena had been one of his first acts at the Shattered Plains.

“‘Regardless,’” Dalinar said, still quoting from The Way of Kings, “‘I made the trip and – as the astute reader has already concluded – survived it. The stories of its excitements will stain a different page in this narrative, for first I must explain my purpose in walking this strange path. Though I was quite willing to let my family think me insane, I would not leave the same as my cognomen upon the winds of history.

“‘My family traveled to Urithiru via the direct method, and had been awaiting me for weeks when I arrived. I was not recognized at the gate, for my mane had grown quite robust without a razor to tame it. Once I revealed myself, I was carried away, primped, fed, worried over, and scolded in precisely that order. Only after all of this was through was I finally asked the purpose of my excursion. Couldn’t I have just taken the simple, easy, and common route to the holy city?’”

“Exactly,” Sadeas interjected. “He could at the very least have ridden a horse!”

“‘For my answer,’” Dalinar quoted, “‘I removed my sandals and proffered my callused feet. They were comfortable upon the table beside my half-consumed tray of grapes. At this point, the expressions of my companions proclaimed that they thought me daft, and so I explained by relating the stories of my trip. One after another, like stacked sacks of tallew, stored for the winter season. I would make flatbread of them soon, then stuff it between these pages.

“‘Yes, I could have traveled quickly. But all men have the same ultimate destination. Whether we find our end in a hallowed sepulcher or a pauper’s ditch, all save the Heralds themselves must dine with the Nightwatcher.

“‘And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.

“‘In the end, I must proclaim that no good can be achieved of false means. For the substance of our existence is not in the achievement, but in the method. The Monarch must understand this; he must not become so focused on what he wishes to accomplish that he diverts his gaze from the path he must take to arrive there.’”

Dalinar sat back. The rock beneath them had been cushioned and augmented with wooden armrests and back supports. The duel ended with one of the lighteyes – wearing green, as he was subject to Sadeas – scoring a hit on the breastplate of the other, leaving a long white mark. Elhokar clapped his approval, gauntleted hands clanking, and both duelists bowed. The winner’s victory would be recorded by the women sitting in the judging seats. They also held the books of dueling code, and would adjudicate disputes or infractions.

“That is the end of your story, I presume,” Sadeas said, as the next two duelists walked out onto the sand.

“It is,” Dalinar said.

“And you have that entire passage memorized?”

“I likely got a few of the words wrong.”

“Knowing you, that means you might have forgotten a single ‘an’ or ‘the.’”

Dalinar frowned.

“Oh, don’t be so stiff, old friend,” Sadeas said. “That was a compliment. Of sorts.”

“What did you think of the story?” Dalinar asked as the dueling resumed.

“It was ridiculous,” Sadeas said frankly, waving for a servant to bring him some wine. Yellow, as it was yet morning. “He walked all that distance just to make the point that kings should consider the consequences of their commands?”

“It wasn’t just to prove the point,” Dalinar said. “I thought that myself, but I’ve begun to see. He walked because he wanted to experience the things his people did. He used it as a metaphor, but I think he really wanted to know what it was like to walk that far.”

Sadeas took a sip of his wine, then squinted up at the sun. “Couldn’t we get an awning or something set up out here?”

“I like the sun,” Elhokar said. “I spend too much time locked away in those caves we call buildings.”

Sadeas glanced at Dalinar, rolling his eyes.

“Much of The Way of Kings is organized like that passage I quoted you,” Dalinar said. “A metaphor from Nohadon’s life – a real event turned into an example. He calls them the forty parables.”

“Are they all so ridiculous?”

“I think this one is beautiful,” Dalinar said softly.

“I don’t doubt that you do. You always have loved sentimental stories.” He raised a hand. “That was also intended to be a compliment.”

“Of sorts?”