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Adolin was halfway back to the front of the column when the truth struck him.
* * *
Veil closed the top of the trunk with the communication cube, then locked it. She couldn’t always rely on the spy to return the cube in a different orientation after moving it, so—using a trick she’d learned from Tyn long ago—she’d started dusting it with a faint bit of powder.
It hadn’t been disturbed all this trip, so far as she could tell. She needed to find a way to use it as bait, leaving it alone in a tempting way. Pondering that, she walked over and took a bowl of mush from Ishnah. Veil braced herself to eat the terrible Soulcast stuff. She should force Radiant to take over for meals. Soldiers were accustomed to eating terrible rations in the field, right? Radiant would see it as an honor to eat this slop. It would build character, and—
Adolin dashed past.
Radiant dropped the cup and leaped to her feet. That was the posture of a man running toward a fight. She took off after him, reflexively trying to summon her Shardblade—which of course didn’t work. Not here in Shadesmar.
Adolin scrambled up to the top of the outcropping where Felt was still watching their rear. Radiant started climbing, and was joined by two of Adolin’s other soldiers. The rest of the Radiants and agents—even Zu the Stoneward, who always seemed so eager and excitable—just stood looking back with confused expressions.
At the top of the outcropping, she found Adolin peering through a spyglass, tense and alert.
“What?” Radiant asked.
“They weren’t following us,” he said. “Leave a spren or two to watch the camp, then bring everyone else after me! Be ready for a fight.”
With that, he leaped off the outcropping. His boots slapped stone below—storms, he did remember he wasn’t in Shardplate, didn’t he? Adolin took off running toward the distant Tukari caravan, hand on the sheathed sword at his belt, holding it in place.
Radiant stood stunned. Was Adolin going to walk all the way to—
The sound of cracking stone thundered from behind. Radiant jumped, searching the nearby formations for some kind of avalanche. Only then did she realize it was the sound of hooves striking obsidian at high speed as Gallant galloped past. A panicked Maya clung to his mane with a two-fisted grip—but his supplies appeared to have been unloaded.
Barely breaking stride, Adolin grabbed the dangling reins as Gallant pulled up beside him. Adolin did an odd running hop, then hoisted himself into the saddle behind Maya, a maneuver that a part of Radiant’s brain refused to believe was possible.
“Rusts,” Felt said, lowering his spyglass. “How did the beast know? Did anyone hear Highprince Adolin whistle for it?”
The other soldiers shook their heads.
“Let’s move!” Radiant said. “Get the packhorses and send outriders to follow him. I’ll have Pattern watch our things. Everyone else get ready to march!”
She had them all going in what she considered an impressively short amount of time. Three soldiers on horses went chasing after Adolin, but they were far slower than the Ryshadium. Something that large shouldn’t be so fast.
She marched double-time beside Godeke and Zu, and they outpaced the Stump and some of the spren. However, while Radiant’s training with Adolin over the last twelve months meant she wasn’t soft, she also hadn’t done any forced marches.
She’d come to rely on Stormlight. With it, she could have run at a full dash without tiring. Godeke could have slid out ahead of them, moving on the stone like it was ice. They didn’t have any Stormlight left, so they followed as best they could. What was it that Adolin had said? The strange humans hadn’t been following Adolin’s party? So who had they been following?
It clicked almost immediately. The humans had skirted close, always in sight, seeming like they wanted to overtake the group—but never daring. They’d turned away today, heading south.
The same direction Notum had gone.
* * *
Riding behind Maya as she clung to Gallant’s neck wasn’t particularly comfortable for Adolin. Fortunately, the Ryshadium didn’t need much direction from him.
Adolin leaned low—gripping the reins, feeling the rhythm of Gallant’s hooves pounding the obsidian ground. The Tukari humans had likely planned to jump Notum soon after his patrol left the port town, but had held off once Adolin’s group started going the same way. They’d likely worried Adolin’s team would come to Notum’s defense.
They’d stayed close, never daring to attack. Until at last Notum had turned south while Adolin continued west.
Gallant was sweating heavily by the time they approached the humans’ caravan. They’d left some people behind with supplies and sent a larger group after Notum, bearing torches. Adolin ignored the ones guarding the supplies. He leaned lower, one hand around Maya’s waist, hoping he was wrong. Hoping this was all about nothing.
Adolin’s worry mounted as he drew closer. Harsh torchlight. Figures shouting.
“When we get there,” Adolin said to the horse, “stay out of the fight.”
Gallant snorted his disagreement.
“I’ll need you to get me out,” Adolin said, “and you’ll need to catch your breath to do that.”
Ryshadium were far more than the average warhorse, with speed that seemed to defy their grand size. That said, they weren’t built for long gallops.
And Adolin wasn’t built for fighting a large group on his own. The others would be far behind. So what was Adolin’s plan? If Notum really was in trouble, Adolin couldn’t very well face ten or more people without his Plate.
He drew close, picking out men in thick, patterned Tukari clothing holding aloft torches and swords—short one-handed cutlasses with a steep curve to them. Chopping weapons, common sidearms. Only two of the enemy had shields, and there was no armor to speak of, though he did spot a few spears that he’d need to keep in mind.
They’d stopped in a large circle, surrounding something at their center. Adolin gritted his teeth and guided Gallant with his knees to charge in close so he could survey better. Spren had been … cagey about whether they could be killed in Shadesmar. He’d seen them carry weapons, and during his earlier trip, Notum’s sailors had admitted that spren could be cut and would feel pain. “Killing” them involved hurting them so much that their minds broke and they became something akin to a deadeye.
Stormfather! Adolin caught enough as he rode by; his worst fears were true. In the center of the group, a glowing figure lay huddled on the ground, bound in ropes. Over a dozen animated Tukari were repeatedly stabbing him with spears and swords. Notum’s attendants—a group of three Reachers—had been bound and set in a row. Perhaps they would be next to suffer torture.
The assailants didn’t appear to have bows, fortunately, so Gallant made it past them without incident. In fact, Adolin was increasingly certain from their postures and lack of discipline that this was more a mob than a force of soldiers. Why would they attack an honorspren? How had they even gotten into Shadesmar in the first place?
Adolin reined in once they were a safe distance away. He’d hoped to draw some of the Tukari away after him, but they remained clustered, a good twenty men with torches, spears, swords. After briefly glancing at Adolin, they returned to stabbing at Notum.
