directly into Sadeas’s army. Raising a hand against the bright white sunlight, Dalinar found he could make out Sadeas’s personal banner.
It was directly in the path of the oncoming Parshendi force; he tended to remain at the back of his armies, in a secure position. Now, that position suddenly became the front lines, and Sadeas’s other troops were too slow to disengage and react. He didn’t have any support.
But no, they’d be too slow.
The spearmen couldn’t get to him. But someone mounted might be able to.
“Gallant!” Dalinar bellowed, throwing himself off the rock formation. He fell to the rocks below, Plate absorbing the shock as he hit, cracking the stone. Stormlight puffed up around him, rising from his armor, and the greaves cracked slightly.
Gallant pulled away from his minders, galloping across the stones at Dalinar’s call. As the horse approached, Dalinar grabbed the saddle-holds and heaved himself up and into place. “Follow if you can,” he bellowed at his honor guard, “and send a runner to tell my son he now commands our army!”
Dalinar reared Gallant and galloped alongside the perimeter of the battlefield. His guard called for their horses, but they’d have difficulty keeping up with a Ryshadium.
So be it.
Fighting soldiers became a blur to Dalinar’s right. He leaned low in the saddle, wind hissing as it blew over his Shardplate. He held a hand out and summoned Oathbringer. It dropped into his hand, steaming and frosted, as he turned Gallant around the western tip of the battlefield. By design, the original Parshendi army lay between his force and Sadeas’s. He didn’t have time to round them. So, taking a deep breath, Dalinar struck out through the middle of it. Their ranks were spread out because of how they fought.
Gallant galloped through them, and Parshendi threw themselves out of the massive stallion’s way, cursing in their melodic language. Hooves beat a thunder upon the rocks; Dalinar urged Gallant on with his knees. They had to keep momentum. Some Parshendi fighting on the front against Sadeas’s force turned and ran at him. They saw the opportunity. If Dalinar fell, he’d land alone, surrounded by thousands of enemies.
Dalinar’s heart thumped as he held his Blade out, trying to swipe at Parshendi who came too close. Within minutes, he approached the northwestern Parshendi line. There, his enemies formed up, raising spears and setting them against the ground.
Dalinar charged the formation, then wheeled Gallant at the last moment, turning parallel to the Parshendi spear wall. He swung his Shardblade out to the side, shearing the tips from their weapons and hitting a few arms. A patch of Parshendi just ahead wavered, and Dalinar took a deep breath, urging Gallant directly into them, shearing off a few spear tips. Another one bounced off his shoulder armor, and Gallant took a long gash on the left flank.
Their momentum carried them forward, trampling over the Parshendi, and with a whinny, Gallant burst free of the Parshendi line just to the side of where Sadeas’s main force was engaging the enemy.
Dalinar’s heart pumped. He passed Sadeas’s force in a blur, galloping toward the back lines, where a churning, disorganized chaos of men tried to react to the new Parshendi force. Men screamed and died, a mess of forest green Alethi and Parshendi in black and red.
It was time for the slaughter to begin again.
He tore into the Parshendi force from the side, and some turned, looks of surprise in their usually stoic black eyes. At times the Parshendi seemed alien, but their emotions were so human. The Thrill rose and Dalinar did not force it down. He needed it too much. An ally was in danger.
It was time to let the Blackthorn loose.
Dalinar punched through the Parshendi ranks. He felled Parshendi like a man sweeping crumbs from the table after a meal. There was no controlled precision here, no careful engagement of a few squads with his honor guard at the back. This was a full-out attack, with all the power and deadly force of a life-long killer enhanced by Shards. He was like a tempest, slashing through legs, torsos, arms, necks, killing, killing, killing. He was a maelstrom of death and steel. Weapons bounced off his armor, leaving tiny cracks. He killed dozens, always moving, forcing his way toward where Sadeas’s banner had fallen.
Eyes burned, swords flashed in the sky, and Parshendi sang. The close press of their own troops-bunching up as they hit Sadeas’s line-inhibited them. But not Dalinar. He didn’t have to worry about striking friends, nor did he have to worry about his weapon getting caught in flesh or stuck in armor. And if corpses got in his way, he sheared through them-dead flesh would cut like steel and wood.
Soon, Parshendi blood splashed in the air as he killed, then hacked, then shoved his way through the press. Blade from shoulder to side, back and forth, occasionally turning to sweep at those trying to kill him from behind.
He stumbled on a swath of green cloth. Sadeas’s banner. Dalinar spun, searching. Behind him, he’d left a line of corpses that was quickly yet carefully being stepped past by more Parshendi focused on him. Except just to his left. None of the Parshendi there turned toward him.
Just to the side lay a large Shardbearer’s hammer, fallen where Sadeas had apparently dropped it. Dalinar leaped forward, dropping his Blade and grabbing the hammer. He roared as he slammed it into the group, tossing a dozen Parshendi away from him, then turned and swung again on the other side. Bodies sprayed into the air, hurled backward.
The hammer worked better in such close quarters; the Blade would simply have killed the men, dropping their corpses to the ground, leaving him still pressed and pinned. The hammer, however, flung the bodies away. He leaped into the middle of the area he’d just cleared, positioning himself with one foot on either side of the fallen Sadeas. He began the process of summoning his Blade again and laid about him with the hammer, scattering his enemies.
At the ninth beat of his heart, he threw the hammer into the face of a Parshendi, then let Oathbringer reform in his hands. He fell immediately into Windstance, glancing downward. Sadeas’s armor leaked Stormlight from a dozen different breaks and rifts. The breastplate had been shattered completely; broken, jagged bits of metal jutted out, revealing the uniform underneath. Wisps of radiant smoke trailed from the holes.
There was no time to check if he still lived. The Parshendi now saw not one, but two Shardbearers within their grasp, and they threw themselves at Dalinar. Warrior after warrior fell as Dalinar slaughtered them in sweeps, protecting the space just around him.
He couldn’t stop them all. His armor took hits, mostly on the arms and back. The armor cracked, like a crystal under too much stress.
He roared, striking down four Parshendi as two more hit him from behind, making his armor vibrate. He spun and killed one, the other barely dancing out of range. Dalinar began to pant, and when he moved quickly, he left trails of blue Stormlight in the air. He felt like a bloodied prey beast trying to fend off a thousand different snapping predators at once.
But he was no chull, whose only protection was to hide. He killed, and the Thrill rose to a crescendo within him. He sensed real danger, a chance of falling, and that made the Thrill surge. He nearly choked on it, the joy, the pleasure, the desire. The danger. More and more blows got through; more and more Parshendi were able to duck or dodge out of the way of his Blade.
He felt a breeze through the back of his breastplate. Cooling, terrible, frightening. The cracks were widening. If the breastplate burst…
He screamed, slamming his blade down through a Parshendi, burning out his eyes, dropping the man without a mark on his skin. Dalinar brought his Blade up, spinning, cutting through the legs of another foe. His insides were
