Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(10)



Talik looked down, then waggled his feet. “How long . . .”

“Oh, you’re safe,” Lopen said. “If you drop, it would take way long for you to hit. I’d catch you first.”

“That’s not terribly encouraging . . .” Talik said. He took a deep breath, then studied Lopen. “Normally, I would assume a person who brought me up here like this had done so to discomfort me during our negotiations. But you . . . really aren’t doing that, are you?”

“We can go down if you want,” Lopen said. “I just thought . . . I mean, you like it, right?”

“I do,” Talik said, then smiled. “I will admit to finding myself . . . encouraged by the presence of a Herdazian among the Knights Radiant. I lived among your people for several years, Windrunner. Let me ask you this. In your opinion, do they truly care about us? The Alethi, the Vedens, the Azish? For centuries, they’ve ignored us in the Isles. Now, amid a war, they write to us? They ask for a meeting with our king?

“We are a proud people, the Lopen—but small, insignificant. Paid attention to by outsiders for our novelty, or for the ways we can be exploited. I trained in Thaylenah. I know how we’re regarded. And I know they have historically treated you the same way. So can you tell me why the greatest kings in Roshar would suddenly show interest in us?”

“Oh, that,” Lopen said. “Yeah, they think maybe the enemy will start moving troops through the sea to land for an invasion of Jah Keved in the east. So, Dalinar and Jasnah figure it would be good to have you on their side.”

“So it’s purely political,” Talik said.

“Purely?” Lopen shrugged, and Rua did too. “They’re trying to be good, velo. But they’re, you know, Alethi. Conquering folks is basically their primary cultural heritage. It’s taking some time for them to learn to see things another way—but they are listening. They agreed to let me talk to you, after I explained we were practically cousins, what with the Reshi Isles being so close to Herdaz.”

Talik nodded.

“I was one of the ones that told them to send to you,” Lopen said. “See, lots of us people—Herdaz, Reshi, even Thaylenah to an extent—are small. But the whole world has been invaded, not only the big places. And a lot of small people make big numbers, velo. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first, to ask you to listen to what the Alethi say.”

“I will suggest to the king that he accept your advice, the Lopen,” Talik said, then extended his hand. “I appreciate your sincerity. It is not what I expected to find in this city.”

Lopen took the hand.

“Before you take me down,” Talik said, “I have a . . . somewhat delicate question for you. Our king, who is one of my parents, has undergone some unusual physical changes lately. They have transformed him in dramatic ways, and at first we thought it was a gift of our god, as he was not born looking as he does now. We now realize this transformation is in relation to a spren he has been seeing. It is why he agreed to make this long trip.”

“Your king is Radiant!” Lopen said. “What kind?”

“He can make the very air seem to catch flame,” Talik said. “And sees a spren that burns through the inside of objects in curious treelike patterns.”

“Dustbringer,” Lopen said. “We’ve been hoping to find some more. Look, this is great. But don’t talk to the ones we already have, all right? It’s complicated, but we’d love to see you figure your own way, without anyone interfering.”

“I do not understand.”

“I don’t really either,” Lopen said. “Have your king talk to Dalinar about it, all right? But don’t tell anyone else. It’s politics. The annoying kind.”

“There’s another kind?”

Lopen grinned. “I like you, velo.” He grabbed Talik by the arm and flew him to the floor—where a number of his friends were arguing loudly with some of Dalinar’s soldiers. They were all surrounded by pools of angerspren and gesturing at the sky. Poor guys. Probably sad they didn’t get to fly too.

Kaladin had arrived, so Lopen towed Talik over and presented him. “This is my cousin Talik,” Lopen said, pointing. “He’s, sure, the king’s son. Treat him well, gancho.”

“I’ll try,” Kaladin said, his voice dry. “I hope Lopen’s tour of the tower was informative.”

“Tour . . . ?” Talik said, glancing at Lopen, who made some low-key shushing gestures. Wasn’t Lopen’s fault he’d spent too long at lunch and hadn’t managed to greet the Reshi when they arrived. He blamed Cord’s cooking. “Yes . . .” Talik continued. “It was informative.”

“Excellent,” Kaladin said. “I have scheduled a meeting for your king with Dalinar and Navani Kholin, rulers of this tower. Though perhaps we should first deal with whatever is happening over there. . . .” He pointed at the Reshi king’s arguing soldiers. Talik rushed over to calm them, though Kaladin lingered with Lopen.

“Where is Huio?” Kaladin asked.

“He was busy. So I went on my own.”

Kaladin gave him a long-suffering look. Huio and Lopen had persuaded him that the Reshi would respond best to Herdazians meeting them, and that was true. So why was he having a problem?

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