#dalinar

I have spent too much of my time worrying about what people think, Navani. When I thought my time had arrived, I realized that all my worrying had been wasted. In the end, I was pleased with how I had lived my life.

‘What is a man’s life worth?’ Dalinar asked softly.

‘The slavemasters say one is worth about two emerald broams,’ Kaladin said, frowning.

‘And what do you say?’

‘A life is priceless,’ he said immediately, quoting his father.

Dalinar smiled, wrinkle lines extending from the corners of his eyes.

‘Coincidentally, that is the exact value of a Shardblade. So today, you and your men sacrificed to buy me twenty-six hundred priceless lives. And all I had to repay you with was a single priceless sword. I call that a bargain.’

‘Death is the end of all men!’ Dalinar bellowed. ‘What is the measure of him once he is gone? The wealth he accumulated and left for his heirs to squabble over? The glory he obtained, only to be passed on to those who slew him? The lofty positions he held through happenstance?’

‘No. We fight here because we understand. The end is the same. It is the path that separates men. When we taste that end, we will do so with our heads held high, eyes to the sun.’

He held out a hand, summoning Oathbringer. ‘I am not ashamed of what I have become,’ he shouted, and found it to be true. It felt so strange to be free of guilt. ‘Other men may debase themselves to destroy me. Let them have their glory. For I will retain mine!’