been given to studying the Parshendi. Everyone just wanted them dead, and if there was one thing the Alethi were good at, it was killing.
He charged toward another section of the battlefield, Shardblade before him in two hands, making certain not to outpace his soldiers. To the south, he could see Adolin’s banner flying as he led his division against the Parshendi there. The lad had been uncharacteristically reserved lately. Being wrong about Sadeas seemed to have made him more contemplative.
On the west side, Sadeas’s own banner flew proudly, Sadeas’s forces keeping the Parshendi from the chrysalis. He’d arrived first, as before, engaging the Parshendi so Dalinar’s companies could arrive. Dalinar had considered cutting out the gemheart so the Alethi could retreat, but why end the battle that quickly? He and Sadeas both felt the real point of their alliance was to crush as many Parshendi as possible.
The more they killed, the faster this war would be through. And so far, Dalinar’s plan was working. The two armies complemented one another. Dalinar’s assaults had been too slow, and he’d allowed the Parshendi to position themselves too well. Sadeas was fast-more so now that he could leave men behind and concentrate fully on speed-and he was frighteningly effective at getting men onto the plateaus to fight, but his men weren’t trained as well as Dalinar’s. So if Sadeas could arrive first, then hold out long enough for Dalinar to get his men across, the superior training-and superior Shards-of his forces worked like a hammer against the Parshendi, smashing them against Sadeas’s anvil.
It was still by no means easy. The Parshendi fought like chasmfiends.
Dalinar crashed against them, swinging out with his blade, slaying Parshendi on all sides. He couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for the Parshendi. Few men dared assault a Shardbearer directly-at least not without the entire weight of their army forcing them forward, almost against their will.
These Parshendi attacked with bravery. Dalinar spun, laying about him, the Thrill surging within. With an ordinary sword, a fighter focused on controlling his blows, striking and expecting recoil. You wanted quick, rapid strikes with small arcs. A Shardblade was different. The Blade was enormous, yet remarkably light. There was never recoil; landing a blow felt nearly like passing the blade through the air itself. The trick was to control momentum and keep the blade moving.
Four Parshendi threw themselves at him; they seemed to know that working into close quarters was one of the best ways to drop him. If they got too close, the length of his Blade’s hilt and the nature of his armor would make fighting more difficult for him. Dalinar spun in a long, waist-high attack, and noted the deaths of Parshendi by the slight tug on the Blade as it passed through their chests. He got all four of them, and felt a surge of satisfaction.
It was followed immediately by nausea.
He threw himself into another attack-raising Blade in a twisting swing over his head, then bringing it down parallel to the ground. Six Parshendi died. He felt a spike of regret along with displeasure at the Thrill. Surely these Parshendi-these soldiers-deserved respect, not glee, as they were slaughtered.
He remembered the times when the Thrill had been the strongest. Subduing the highprinces with Gavilar during their youths, forcing back the Vedens, fighting the Herdazians and destroying the Akak Reshi. Once, the thirst for battle had nearly led him to attack Gavilar himself. Dalinar could remember the jealousy on that day some ten years ago, when the itch to attack Gavilar-the only worthy opponent he could see, the man who had won Navani’s hand-had nearly consumed him.
His honor guard cheered as his foes dropped. He felt hollow, but he seized the Thrill and got a tight grip on his feelings and emotions. He let the Thrill pulse through him. Blessedly, the sickness went away, which was good, for another group of Parshendi charged him from the side. He executed a Windstance turn, shifting his feet, lowering his shoulder, and throwing his weight behind his Blade as he swung.
He got three in the sweep, but the fourth and final Parshendi shoved past his wounded comrades, getting inside Dalinar’s reach, swinging his hammer. His eyes were wide with anger and determination, though he did not yell or bellow. He just continued his song.
His blow cracked into Dalinar’s helm. It pushed his head to the side but the Plate absorbed most of the hit, a few tiny weblike lines cracking along its length. Dalinar could see them glowing faintly, releasing Stormlight at the edges of his vision.
The Parshendi was in too close. Dalinar dropped his Blade. The weapon puffed away to mist as Dalinar raised an armored arm and blocked the next hammer blow. Then he swung with his other arm, smashing his fist into the Parshendi’s shoulder. The blow tossed the man to the ground. The Parshendi’s song cut off. Gritting his teeth, Dalinar stepped up and kicked the man in the chest, throwing the body a good twenty feet through the air. He’d learned to be wary of Parshendi who weren’t fully incapacitated.
Dalinar lowered his hands and began to resummon his Shardblade. He felt strong again, passion for battle returning to him.
He paused, noticing something. What was that on the next plateau over? It looked like…
Like a second Parshendi army.
Several groups of his scouts were dashing toward the main battle lines, but Dalinar could guess the news they brought. “Stormfather!” he cursed, pointing with his Shardblade. “Pass the warning! A second army approaches!”
Several men scattered in accordance to his command.
But that implied that they had limited themselves before. Did they do it because they realized that the battlefields left little room for maneuvering? Or was it for speed? But that didn’t make sense-the Alethi had to worry about bridges as choke points, slowing them more and more if they brought more troops. But the Parshendi could jump the chasms. So why commit fewer troops than their all?
He shoved his Shardblade into the rock beside him, placing it intentionally so that it didn’t vanish. He began calling out orders. His honor guard formed around him, ushering in scouts and sending out runners. For a short time, he became a tactical general rather than an advance warrior.
It took time to change their battlefield strategy. An army was like a massive chull at times, lumbering along, slow to react. Before his orders could be executed, the new Parshendi force began crossing over onto the north side. That was where Sadeas was fighting. Dalinar couldn’t get a good view, and scout reports were taking too long.
He glanced to the side; there was a tall rock formation nearby. It had uneven sides, making it look a little like a pile of boards stacked one atop another. He grabbed his Shardblade in the middle of a report and ran across the stony ground, smashing a few Rockbuds beneath his plated boots. The Cobalt Guard and the messengers followed quickly.
At the rock formation, Dalinar tossed his Blade aside, letting it dissolve to smoke. He threw himself up and grabbed the rock, scaling the formation. Seconds later, he heaved himself up onto its flat top.
The battlefield stretched out below him. The main Parshendi army was a mass of red and black at the center of the plateau, now pressed on two sides by the Alethi. Sadeas’ bridge crews waited on a western plateau, ignored, while the new force of Parshendi crossed from the north onto the battlefield.
Not a single Parshendi lost his footing as they crossed the chasm. They approached the chasm at a trot, then dashed with a burst of speed for about ten feet, launching themselves forward. The new force pushed south,
