Warbreaker Part 27

"Indeed, he must have been deranged," Blushweaver said soothingly. Lightsong stood beside her, hands clasped behind his back. An afternoon breeze blew across the courtyard and through the pavilion. Some of Blushweaver's garden workers had brought flowers and trees over, surrounding the canopy, making it smell of pollen.

"I can't understand it," Mercystar said. "The men at the gates are supposed to stop these kinds of things! Why do we have walls if people can just walk in and break into our homes? I just don't feel safe any more."

"I'm certain the guards will be more diligent in the future," Blushweaver said.

Lightsong frowned. Something felt... off to him about the entire experience. He glanced toward Mercystar's mansion, where servants buzzed about. "What was the intruder after, do you suppose?" he said, almost to himself. "Pieces of art, perhaps? Surely there are merchants who would be much easier to rob."

"We know what they were after," Blushweaver said smoothly.

"We do?" Mercystar said, perking up.

"Yes, dear," Blushweaver said. "Only someone with no respect for tradition, propriety, or religion would dare trespa.s.s in the home of a G.o.d. Someone base. Disrespectful. Unbelieving..."

"An Idrian?" Mercystar asked.

"Did you ever wonder, dear," Blushweaver said, "why they sent their youngest daughter to the G.o.d King instead of their eldest?"

Mercystar frowned. "They did?"

"Yes, dear," Blushweaver said.

"That's rather suspicious now, isn't it."

"Something is going on in the Court of G.o.ds, Mercystar," Blushweaver said, leaning down. "Times could be dangerous for the crown in the future."

"Blushweaver," Lightsong said. "Might I speak with you for a moment?"

She eyed him in annoyance. He met the gaze, which eventually caused her to sigh. She patted Mercystar's hand and then retreated with Lightsong from the pavilion, their servants and priests trailing behind.

"What are you doing?" Lightsong said as soon as they were out of Mercystar's earshot.

"Recruitment," Blushweaver said, a glint in her eye. "We're going to need her Lifeless Commands."

"We don't know that an Idrian was the one who broke into her palace."

"Oh?" Blushweaver asked. "And you think it's coincidence that this would happen now? Someone sneaks into one of our palaces now, with the war approaching?"

"Coincidence."

"And the intruder just happened to pick one of the four Returned who have Lifeless access Commands?"

Lightsong glanced back at the palace. Blushweaver's arguments held some merit, but... they weren't enough. He had an odd itch to look into things more. However, that sounded like work. He couldn't really afford to begin involving himself in such bad habits, particularly without a lot of complaining. It sat a poor precedent. So he just nodded his head, and Blushweaver led them back to the pavilion.

"Dear," Blushweaver said, sitting quickly beside Mercystar, looking a little bit more anxious. She leaned in. "We've discussed and we have decided to trust you."

Mercystar sat up. "Trust me? With what?"

"Knowledge," Blushweaver whispered. "There are those of us who are worried that the Idrians aren't content with their mountains and are determined to infiltrate the lowlands as well."

"But... we'll be joined by blood," Mercystar said. "There will be a Hallandren G.o.d King with Royal blood on our throne."

"Oh?" Blushweaver said. "And could that not also be interpreted as an Idris king with Hallandren blood on the throne?"

Mercystar wavered. Then, oddly, she glanced at Lightsong. "Do you believe this?"

Why did people look toward him? He did his best to discourage such behavior, but they still tended to act like he was some kind of moral authority. "I think that... preparation would be wise," he said. "Though, of course, the same can be said for dinner."

Blushweaver shot him an annoyed look, though by the time she looked back at Mercystar, she had her consoling face on again. "We understand that you've had a difficult day," she said. "But please, consider our offer. We would like you to join with us in our preparations."

"What kind of preparations are you talking about?" Mercystar asked.

"Simple ones," Blushweaver said quickly. "Thinking, talking, planning. Eventually, if we think we have enough evidence, we will bring what we know to the G.o.d King."

This seemed to ease Mercystar's mind. She nodded. "Yes, I can see. Preparation. It would be wise."

"Rest now, dear," Blushweaver said, rising, leading Lightsong retreated from the pavilion. They walked leisurely across the field of gra.s.s back toward Blushweaver's own palace. He felt a hesitance to go, however. Something about the meeting itched at him.

"She's a dear," Blushweaver said, smiling.

"You just say that because she's easy to manipulate."

"Of course," Blushweaver said. "I positively love people who do as they should. 'Should' being defined as whatever I think is best."

"At least you're open about it," Lightsong said.

"To you, my dear, I'm as easy to read as a book."

He snorted. "Maybe one that hasn't been translated to Hallandren yet."

"You just say that because you've never really tried reading me," she said, smiling at him. "Though, I must say that there is one thing about dear Mercystar that positively annoys me."

"And that is?"

"Armies," Blushweaver said, folding her arms. "Why did she get command of ten thousand Lifeless? It's obviously a dire error in judgment. Particularly since I don't have command of any troops."

"Blushweaver," he said with amus.e.m.e.nt, "you're the G.o.ddess of honesty, communication, and interpersonal relationships. Why in the world would you be given stewardship over armies?"

"There are lots of interpersonal relationships related to armies," she said. "After all, what do you call one man hitting another with a sword? That's interpersonal."

"I'm sure," Lightsong said, glancing back at Mercystar's pavilion.

"Now," Blushweaver said, "I should think that you'd appreciate my arguments, since relationships are-in fact-war. As established by our relationship, dear Lightsong. We..." She trailed off, then poked him in the shoulder. "Lightsong? Pay attention to me!"

"Yes?"

She folded her arms petulantly. "I must say, your banter has been decidedly weak today. I might just have to go find someone else to play with."

"Humm, yes," he said, studying Mercystar's palace. "Tragic. Now, the break in at Mercystar's. It was just one person?"

"Supposedly," Blushweaver said. "It's not important."

"Was anyone injured?"

"A couple of servants," Blushweaver said with a wave of the hand. "One was found dead. You should be paying attention to me, not that-"

Lightsong froze in place. "Someone was killed?"

She shrugged. "So they say."

He turned around. "I'm going to go back and talk to her some more."

"Fine," Blushweaver snapped. "But you'll do it without me. I have gardens to enjoy."

"All right," Lightsong said, already walking. "I'll talk to you later."

Blushweaver let out a huff of indignation, and a piece of him could imagine her, hands on hips, watching him go. The rest of him, however, was more focused on...

What? So some servants had been hurt. It wasn't his place to be involved in criminal disturbances. And yet, he did not slow. He walked Mercystar's pavilion again, his servants and priests trailing behind.

She was still reclining on her couch. "Lightsong?" she asked with a frown.

"I... just returned because I heard that one of your servants was killed in the attack."

"Ah, yes," she said. "The poor man. What a terrible occurrence. He will be blessed in the eternities, of course."

"How did it happen?"

"It's very odd, actually," she said. "The two guards at the door were knocked unconscious. The intruder was discovered by four of my servants who were walking through the service hallway. He fought them, knocked out one, killed another, and two escaped."

"What did he use?" Lightsong asked. "How was the man killed?"

Mercystar sighed. "I really don't know," she said with a wave of the hand. "My priests know more about it. I fear I am too traumatized to pay attention to details."

"Would it be all right if I talked to the priests?"

"If you must," Mercystar said. "Though one would think that you'd rather stay and comfort me. Have I mentioned exactly how out of peace I am?"

"My dear Mercystar," he said. "If you know anything of me, then you will realize that leaving you alone is by far the best comfort I can offer. If you wish, I shall have one of my priests throw rocks at you-that is reportedly more pleasant than speaking with me."

She frowned, looking up. "That... won't be necessary."

"It was a joke, my dear," he said. "I am, unfortunately, quite bad at them. Scoot, you coming?"

Llarimar, who stood-as always-with the rest of the priests, looked over at him. "Your grace?"

"No need to upset the others any further," Lightsong said. "I think that you and I alone will be sufficient for this exercise."

"As you command, your grace," Llarimar said. Once again, Lightsong's servants found themselves separated from their G.o.d. They cl.u.s.tered uncertainly on the gra.s.s-like a group of children abandoned by their parents.

"What is this about, your grace?" Llarimar asked quietly as they walked up to the palace.

"I honestly have no idea," Lightsong said. "I just... feel like there's more to what is going on here. The break in. The death of that man. Something is wrong."

Llarimar looked at him, a strange expression on the man's face.

"What?" Lightsong asked.

"It is nothing, your grace," Llarimar finally said. "This is just a very odd action for you to take."

"I know," Lightsong said, feeling confident about the decision nonetheless. "I honestly can't say what prompted it. Curiosity, I guess."

"Curiosity that outweighs your desire to avoid doing... well, anything at all?"

Lightsong shrugged. He felt energized as he walked into the palace. His normal lethargy retreated, and instead he felt an excitement. Almost a familiarity. He found a group of priests chatting inside the servant's corridor. Lightsong walked right up to them, and they turned to regard him with shock.

"Ah, good," Lightsong said. "I a.s.sume you can tell me more of this break in?"

"Your grace," one said, all three bowing their heads. "I a.s.sure you, we have everything under control. There is no danger to you or your people."

"Yes, yes," Lightsong said, looking over the corridor. "Is this where the man was killed, then?"

They glanced at each other. "Over there," one of them reluctantly said, pointing to a turn in the hallway.

"Wonderful. Accompany me, if you please." Lightsong walked up to the indicated section. A group of workers were removing the boards from the floor, probably to be replaced. Bloodstained wood, no matter how well-cleaned, would not do for a G.o.ddess's home.

"Hum," Lightsong said. "Looks messy. How did it happen?"

"We... aren't sure, your grace," said one of the priests. "The intruder knocked the men at the doorway unconscious, but did not otherwise harm them."

"Yes, Mercystar mentioned that," Lightsong said. "But then he fought with four of the servants?"

"Well, 'fought' isn't the right word," the priest said, sighing. Though he wasn't their G.o.d, he was a G.o.d. They would be bound by oath to answer his questions.

"He immobilized one of them with an Awakened rope," the priest continued. "Then, while one remained behind to distract the intruder, the other two ran for aid. The intruder quickly knocked the remaining man unconscious. At that time, the one who had been tied up was still alive." The priest glanced at his colleagues. "When help finally came-delayed by a Lifeless animal that was causing confusion-they found the one man unconscious. The other, still tied in the rope, was dead. Stabbed through the heart with a dueling blade."

Lightsong nodded, kneeling beside the broken boards. The servants who had been working there retreated, bowing their heads before him. He wasn't certain what he expected to find. The ground had been scrubbed clean, then torn apart. However, there was a patch of... something a short distance away. He walked over.

The wood was grayed slightly in a patch on the floor. He knelt, inspecting it.

Completely devoid of color, he thought. He looked up, focusing on the priests. "An Awakener, you say?"

"Undoubtedly, your grace."

He looked back down at the grey patch. There's little chance an Idrian did this, he realized. Not if he used Awakening. And... what was that about a Lifeless? "What was this creature you discovered?"

"A Lifeless squirrel, your grace," one of the men said. "The intruder used it as a distraction."

"Well made?" he asked.