Warbreaker Part 14

"Unless you count pets," Tonk Fah said, balancing his bird on his foot.

"She'll be back in a bit," Denth said. "I know we've got at least a few months left on our contract, and we were paid half up front. Even if you decide not to pay the rest, we probably owe you a few more weeks."

Tonk Fah nodded. "So if there's anyone you want killed, now would be the time."

Vivenna paused, and Tonk Fah chuckled.

"You're really going to have to get used to our terrible senses of humor, princess," Denth said. "a.s.suming, of course, you're going to keep us around."

"I've already implied that I'll keep you," Vivenna said.

"All right," Denth replied. "But what are you going to do with us? Why did you even come to the city?"

Vivenna didn't answer immediately. No point in holding back, she thought. They know the most dangerous secret-my ident.i.ty-already. "I'm here to rescue my sister," she said. "To sneak her out of the G.o.d King's palace and see her returned to Idris unharmed."

The mercenaries fell silent. Finally, Tonk Fah whistled. "Ambitious," he noted as his parrot mimicked the whistle.

"She is a princess," Denth said. "They tend to be ambitious sorts, I hear."

"Siri isn't ready to deal with Hallandren," Vivenna said, leaning forward. "My father sent her in my place, but I cannot stand the thought of her serving as the G.o.d King's wife. Unfortunately, if we simply grab her and go, Hallandren will likely attack my homeland. We need to make her disappear in a way that isn't d.a.m.ning to my people. Then, if necessary, we can subst.i.tute me in Siri's place."

Denth scratched his head.

"Well?" Vivenna asked.

"Little bit out of our realm of expertise," Denth said.

"We usually hit things," Tonk Fah said.

Denth nodded. "Or, at least, keep things from getting hit. Lemks kept us on as partially just as bodyguards."

"Why wouldn't he just send for a couple of Idris soldiers to protect him?"

Denth and Tonk Fah exchanged a look.

"How can I put this delicately?" Denth said. "Princess, your Lemks was embezzling money from the king and spending it on Breath."

"Lemks was a patriot!" Vivenna said immediately.

"That may have been the case," Denth said. "But even a good priest isn't above slipping himself a few coins out of the coffer, so to speak. I think your Lemks figured it would be better to have outside muscle, rather than inside loyalists, protecting him."

Vivenna fell silent. It was still hard to imagine the thoughtful, clever, and pa.s.sionate man represented in Lemk's letters as a thief. Yet, it was also hard to imagine Lemks holding as much Breath as he obviously had.

But embezzling? Stealing from Idris itself?

"You know, you learn things as a mercenary," Denth said, resting back with hands behind his head. "You fight enough people, and you figure you start to understand them a bit. It's a strange thing. You stay alive by antic.i.p.ating others. The thing is, people aren't simple, princess. Even Idrians."

"Boring, yes," Tonk Fah added. "But not simple."

"Your Lemks, he was involved in some big things," Denth said. "I honestly think he was a patriot. There are plans and intrigues going on in this city, princess-some of the projects Lemks had us working on looked toward a much bigger picture. Many of those seem to be for the good of Idris. I guess he just thought he should be compensated a little for that patriotism."

"Quite an amiable fellow, actually," Tonk Fah said. "Didn't want to bother your father. So he just did the figures on his own, gave himself a raise, and indicated in his reports that his costs were far greater than they really were."

Vivenna fell silent, letting herself digest the words. How could anyone who stole money from Idris also be a patriot? How could a person faithful to Austre end up with several hundred BioChromatic Breaths?

She shook her head wryly. I saw men who placed themselves above others, and I saw them cast down, she thought. It was one of the Five Visions, prime tenets of her religion. She shouldn't judge Lemks, particularly now that he was dead. "Wait a moment," she said, eying the mercenaries. "You said that you were just bodyguards. What, then, were you doing helping Lemks with 'projects'?"

The two men shared a look.

"Told you she was smart," Tonk Fah said. "Comes from not being a mercenary."

"We are bodyguards, princess," Denth said. "However, we're not unpossessing of certain... skills. We can make things happen."

"Things?" Vivenna asked.

"Projects, problems, situations," Denth said. "We know people. That's part of what makes us useful. Let me think about this issue with your sister. Maybe I'll be able to come up with some ideas. It's a little like kidnapping..."

"Which," Tonk Fah said, "we're not too fond of. Did we mention that?"

"Yes," Vivenna said. "Bad business. No money."

"Exactly," Tonk Fah said, resting back and yawning again.

"What were these 'projects' Lemks was working on," Vivenna asked, turning back to Denth.

"I'm not exactly sure of the whole scope, Princess," he admitted. "We only saw pieces-running errands, arranging meetings, intimidating people. It had something to do with work for your father. We can find out for you, if you want."

Vivenna nodded. "I do."

Denth stood. "All right," he said. He walked past Tonk Fah's couch, smacking the larger man's leg, causing the bird to squawk. "Tonk. Come on. Time to ransack the house."

Tonk Fah yawned and sat up.

"Wait!" Vivenna said. "Ransack the house?"

"Sure," Denth said, heading up the stairs. "Break out any hidden safes. Search through papers and files. Figure out what old Lemks was up to."

"He won't care much," Tonk Fah said, standing. "If you want, we'll turn the body face down so he doesn't have to watch."

Vivenna shivered. She still wasn't certain what to do with the body, but having a pair of toughs search his belongings felt a little unseemly.

Denth must have noticed her discomfort. "We don't have to, if you don't want us to."

"Sure," Tonk Fah said. "We'll never know what Lemks was up to, though."

"Continue," Vivenna said. "But I'm going to supervise."

"Actually, I doubt that you will," Denth said.

"And why is that?"

"Because," Denth said. "Now, I know n.o.body ever asks mercenaries for their opinion. You see-"

"Oh, just get on with it," Vivenna said with annoyance, though she immediately chastised herself for her ostentatious snappishness. What was wrong with her? The last few days must be wearing on her.

Denth just smiled, as if he found her outburst incredibly amusing. "Today's the day when the Returned hold judicial court, princess."

"So?" Vivenna asked with forced calmness.

"So," Denth replied, "it's also the day when your sister will be presented to the Court of G.o.ds. I suspect that you'll want to go get a good look at her, see how she's holding up. If you're going to do that, you'll want to get moving. Court will begin pretty soon here."

Vivenna folded her arms, not moving. "I've been tutored all about the court, Denth. I know things-like the fact that regular people can't just walk into the Court of G.o.ds. If you want to watch judgments, you either have to be favored of one of the G.o.ds, be extremely influential, or you have to draw lottery."

"True," Denth said, leaning against the banister. "If only we knew someone with enough BioChromatic Breath to instantly be considered important, and therefore gain entrance to the court without being questioned."

"Ah, Denth," Tonk Fah said. "Someone has to have at least fifty Breath to be considered worthy of watching judgments! That's a terribly high number."

Vivenna paused. "And... how many Breaths do I have?"

"Oh, around five hundred or so," Denth said. "At least, that's what Lemks claimed he had. I'm inclined to believe him. You are, after all, making the carpet shine."

She glanced down, noticing for the first time that she was creating a pocket of enhanced color around her. It wasn't very distinct, but it was noticeable.

"You'd better get going, princess," Denth said, continuing to clomp up the stairs. "You'll be late."

Chapter Fourteen.

"It's raining," Lightsong noted.

"Very astute, your grace," Llarimar said, walking beside his G.o.d.

"I'm not fond of rain."

"So you have often noted, your grace."

"I'm a G.o.d," Lightsong said. "Shouldn't I have power over the weather? How can it rain if I don't want it to?"

"There are currently twenty-five G.o.ds in the Court, your grace. Perhaps there are more who desire rain than those who don't."

Lightsong's robes of gold and red rustled as he walked. The gra.s.s was cool and damp beneath his sandaled toes, but a group of servants carried a wide pavilion over him. Rain fell softly on the cloth above. In T'Telir, rainfalls were common, but they were never very strong.

Lightsong would have liked to have seen a true rainstorm, like people said happened out in the jungles. "I'll take a poll then," Lightsong said. "Of the other G.o.ds. See how many them wanted it to rain today."

"If you wish, your grace," Llarimar said. "It won't prove much."

"It'll prove who's fault this is," Lightsong said. "And... if it turns out that most of us want it to stop raining, perhaps that will start a theological crisis."

Llarimar, of course, didn't seem bothered by the concept of a G.o.d trying to undermine his own religion. "Your grace," he said, "our doctrine is quite sound, I a.s.sure you."

"And if the G.o.ds don't want it to rain, yet it still does?"

"Would you like it to be sunny all the time, your grace?"

Lightsong shrugged. "Sure."

"And the farmers?" Llarimar said. "Their crops would die without the rain.

"It can rain on the crops," Lightsong said, "just not in the city. A few selective weather patterns shouldn't be too much for a G.o.d to accomplish."

"The people need water to drink, your grace," Llarimar said. "The streets need to be washed clean. And what of the plants in the city? The beautiful trees-even this gra.s.s that you enjoy walking across-would die if the rain did not fall."

"Well," Lightsong said, "I could just will them to continue living."

"And that is what you do, your grace," Llarimar said. "Your soul knows that rain in the city is best for it, and so it rains. Despite what your consciousness thinks."

Lightsong frowned. "By that argument, you could claim that anyone was a G.o.d, Llarimar."

"Not just anyone comes back from the dead, your grace. Nor do they have the power to heal the sick, and they certainly don't have your ability to foresee the future."

Good points, those, Lightsong thought as they approached the arena. The large, circular structure was at the back of the Court of G.o.ds, outside of the ring of palaces that surrounded the courtyard. Lightsong's entourage moved inside-red pavilion still held above him-and entered the sand-covered arena yard. Then they moved up a ramp toward the seating area.

The arena had four rows of seats for regular people-stone benches, accommodating T'Telir citizens who were favored, lucky, or rich enough to get themselves into a judgment session. The upper reaches of the arena were reserved for the Returned. Here-close enough to hear what was said on the arena floor, yet far enough back to remain stately-were the boxes. Large, ornate, and stone, they were large enough to hold a G.o.d's entire entourage.

Lightsong could see that several of his colleagues had arrived, marked by the colorful pavilions which sat above their boxes. Windreader was there, as was Mercystar. They pa.s.sed by the empty box usually reserved for Lightsong. Instead, they made their way around the ring and approached a box topped by a green pavilion.

Blushweaver lounged inside. Her green and silver dress was lavish and revealing, as always. Despite its rich trim and embroidery, it was little more than a long swath of cloth with a hole in the center for her head. That left it completely open on both sides from shoulder to calf, and Blushweaver's thighs curved out lusciously on either side. She sat up, smiling.

I asked for this, Lightsong thought. He wasn't certain what made him so hesitant. Blushweaver always treated him kindly and she certainly did have a high opinion of him. It was just that he felt like he had to be on guard at all times when he was around her. A man could be taken in by a woman such as she.

Taken in, then never released.

"Lightsong, dear," she said, smiling more deeply as Lightsong's servants scuttled forward, setting up his chair, footrest, and snack table.

"Blushweaver," Lightsong replied. "My high priest tells me that you're to blame for this dreary weather."

Blushweaver raised an eyebrow, and to the side-standing with the other priests-Llarimar flushed. "I like the rain," Blushweaver finally said, lounging back on her couch. "It's... different. I like things that are different."

"Then you should be thoroughly bored by me, my dear," Lightsong said, seating himself and taking a handful of grapes-already pealed-from the bowl on his snack table.

"Bored?" Blushweaver asked.