Warbreaker Part 51

"Just saying some things that I should have established from the beginning," he said. They stopped in the shadow of the ma.s.sive palace. "You are not important here. Not compared to our G.o.d King. He is everything, and you are nothing. Just like the rest of us."

If he's so important, Siri thought, meeting Tridees' eyes, then why are you planning to kill him? She held his eyes. She wouldn't have been able to do such a thing several months ago. Even a few weeks ago, she would have looked away. But when she felt weak, she remembered Susebron. Tridees was orchestrating the plot to subdue, control, and eventually kill his own G.o.d King.

And Siri wanted to know why.

"I stopped having s.e.x with the G.o.d King on purpose," she said, keeping her hair dark with some effort. "I knew it would get your attention."

In truth, she had simply stopped her little performances each night. Tridees' reaction, however, proved what Bluefingers had told her-the priests only listened, but did not watch. They believed her acts. For that she could bless her luck.

They might still be unaware that she could communicate with Susebron. She was extra careful to whisper at night, and had even taken to writing things herself, to keep up the charade. Then again, they might know. On that, she couldn't be sure.

"You must produce an heir," Tridees said.

"Or what? Why are you so eager, Tridees?"

"It is none of your concern," he said. "Suffice it to say that I have obligations that you cannot comprehend. I am subject to G.o.ds, and I do their will, not yours."

"Well you're going to have to bend that last part a bit if you want your heir," Siri said.

Tridees obviously did not like how the conversation was going. He glanced at her hair. And, somehow, she kept it from showing even a slight bit of uncertainty. He glanced back at her eyes.

"You can't kill me Tridees," she said. "Not if you want a Royal heir. You can't bully me or force me. Only the G.o.d King could do that. And, we know how he is."

"I don't know what you mean," Tridees said flatly.

"Oh, come now," Siri said. "You didn't honestly expect me to sleep with the man and not find out he has no tongue? That he's virtually a child? I doubt he can even go to the privy without help from some servants."

Tridees flushed with anger.

He really does care, Siri thought with an abstract interest. Or, at least, insulting his G.o.d King insults him. He's more devoted than I would have given him credit.

So it probably wasn't about money. She couldn't be sure, but she suspected that this was not the type of man to sell out his religion. Whatever the reasoning for what was happening inside the palace, it probably had to do with true conviction.

Revealing what she knew about Susebron was a gamble. She figured that Tridees would guess anyway, and so it would be better to indicate that she thought Susebron a fool with the mind of a child. Give away one bit of information, but add deception to it to turn her opponents the wrong direction. If they a.s.sumed that she thought Susebron a fool, they wouldn't suspect an alliance between her and her husband.

Siri wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing. But needed to learn, or Susebron would die. And the only way to learn was to do. She didn't have much, but she did have something that the priests wanted: her womb.

It seemed that she could hold it for ransom effectively, for Tridees pushed down his anger and maintained a semblance of calmness. He glanced up at the palace, turning from her. "Do you know much about the history of this kingdom?" he asked. "After your family departed, of course."

Siri frowned, surprised at the question. More than you probably think, she thought to herself. "Not really," she said out loud.

"Lord Peacegiver left us with a challenge," Tridees said. "He gave us the treasure our G.o.d King now holds, a wealth of BioChromatic Breath like n.o.body had ever seen. Over fifty thousand Breaths. He told us to keep them safe." Tridees turned back to her. "And he warned us not to use it."

Siri felt a slight shiver.

"I do not expect you to understand what we have done," Tridees said. "But it was necessary."

"Necessary to keep a man in bondage?" Siri said. "To remove his ability to speak, to make a continual child out of a grown man? He didn't even understand what he was supposed to do with a woman!"

"It was necessary," Tridees said, jaw set. "You Idrians. Just because it's different, you look down on it. You don't even try to understand. I've had dealings with your father for years, and I sense the same ignorant prejudice in him."

He's baiting me, Siri thought, keeping her emotions in check. It was harder than she'd have thought. "Believing in Austre instead of your living G.o.ds is not ignorance. After all, you're the ones who abandoned your faith and looked toward an easier path."

Tridees shrugged. "We follow the G.o.d who came to protect us when your Austre-an unseen, unknown thing-abandoned us to the destroyer Klad. Peacegiver came back to life with a specific purpose-to stop the conflict between men, to bring peace again to Hallandren."

He glanced at her. "His name is holy. He is the one who gave us life, Princess. And he only asked one thing of us: to care for his power. He died to give it to us, but demanded that it be held in case he should Return again and need it. We couldn't let it be used. We couldn't let it be profaned. Not even by our G.o.d King."

He fell silent.

So how do you get that treasure away from him? she thought. She was tempted to ask. Would that be giving away too much?

Finally, Tridees spoke. "I see now why your father sent you instead of the other one. We should have focused more on all of the daughters, not just the first. You are far more capable than we had been led to believe." The statement surprised her, but she kept her hair in check. Tridees sighed, looking away. "What are your demands? What will it take to make you return to your... work each night?"

"My servants," she said. "I want to replace my main serving women with the women from Pahn Kahl."

"You are displeased with your serving women?"

"Not in particular," Siri said. "I simply feel that I have more in common with the women of Pahn Kahl. They, like me, are living in exile from their own people. Plus, I like the browns they wear."

"Of course," Tridees said, obviously thinking her Idrian prejudices to be behind the request.

"The Hallandren girls can continue to serve in the place that the Pahn Kahl women did," Siri said. "They don't have to leave me completely-in fact, I still want to talk to some of them. However, the main women who are with me always, they are to be from Pahn Kahl."

"As I said," Tridees said. "It shall be done. You'll return to your efforts, then?"

"For now," Siri said. "That will earn you a few more weeks."

Tridees flushed in anger, but what could he really do? Siri smiled at him, then turned and trailed away. However, she found herself a little dissatisfied with the way the conversation had gone. She'd achieved a victory-but at the cost of antagonizing Tridees even further.

I doubt he would have taking a liking to me, no matter how hard I tried, she decided, sitting down in her pavilion. This is probably the better way.

She still didn't know what was going to happen to Susebron, but she knew she could manipulate the priests at least a small measure. That meant something, though she knew she was walking on dangerous ground. She turned back to her meal, ready to try another round of sea food. She did her best to learn about Hallandren, but if it came down to Susebron's life, she was going to get him out. Hopefully, giving Bluefingers' Pahn Kahl a more prominent position around her would facilitate that escape. Hopefully.

With a sigh, she raised the first bit of food to her lips and continued with her tasting.

Chapter Forty-One.

Vivenna presented her coin.

"One bit?" Cads asked. "That's all? One single bit?" He was among the dirtiest of men she'd met, even in the streets. He liked fancy clothing, though. It was his style-worn and dirty clothing of the most trendy designs. He seemed to think it was funny. A mockery of the highborn.

He turned her coin over in his fingers. "One bit," he repeated.

"Please," Vivenna whispered. They stood at the mouth of an alley at the back two restaurants. Just inside the alley, she could see urchins rooting in the garbage. Fresh garbage from two restaurants. She salivated.

"I find it hard to believe, lady girly," he said, "that this is all you made today."

"Please, Cads," she said again. "You know... you know I don't beg well." It was starting to rain. Again.

"You should do better," he said. "Even the children can bring me at least two."

Behind him, the fortunates who had pleased him continued to feast. It smelled so good. Or maybe that was the restaurants.

"I haven't eaten in days," she whispered, blinking away the rain.

"Then do better tomorrow," he said, shooing her away.

"My coin-"

Cads immediately waved for his toughs as she reached toward him. Vivenna shied away reflexively, stumbling.

"Two tomorrow," Cads said, walking into his alleyway. "I have to pay the restaurant owners, you know. Can't let you eat for free."

Vivenna stood, staring. Not because she thought she could get him to change his mind. But because she just had trouble making her mind understand. It was her last chance for food this day. One bit wouldn't buy anything more than a mouthful elsewhere, but here-last time-it had let her eat until she was full.

That had been a week ago. How long had she been on the streets now? She didn't know. She turned, dully, and pulled her shawl tight. It was dusk. She should go beg some more.

She couldn't. Not after losing that bit. She felt shaken, as if her most valuable possession had been stolen.

No. No. She still had that. She pulled the shawl close.

Why was it important again?

She shuffled back toward the Highlands. Her home. A part of her realized that she shouldn't feel so distant from the person she had been. She was a princess, wasn't she? But she felt so sick lately, sick enough that she didn't even think she could feel the hunger anymore. It was all so wrong. So very, very wrong.

She entered the slums and crept along, careful to keep her head bowed, her back cowed, lest someone take offense at her. She hesitated as she walked, however, pa.s.sing a street to her right. It was where the wh.o.r.es waited, protected from the drizzle by an awning.

Vivenna stared at them, standing in their revealing clothing. It was only two streets into the slum, a place that wasn't too threatening for outsiders. Everyone knew not to rob a man on his way to visit the wh.o.r.es. The slum lords didn't like it when their customers got scared away. Bad for business, as Denth might say.

Vivenna stood for a long moment. The wh.o.r.es looked fed. They weren't dirty. Several of them laughed. She could join them. An urchin had spoken of it the other day, mentioned that she was still young. He'd wanted her to come to the slum lord with him, hoping to get some coin for recruiting a willing girl.

It was so tempting. Food. Warmth. A dry bed.

Blessed Austre, she thought, shaking herself. What am I thinking? What is wrong with my mind? It was so hard to focus. As if she were in a trance all the time.

She forced herself to keep moving, stumbling away from the women. She wouldn't do that. Not yet.

Not yet.

Oh, Lord of Colors, she thought with horror. I need to get out of this city. Better for me to die, starving on the road back to Idris-better to get taken by Denth and tortured-than to end up in the brothel.

However, much like the morality of stealing, the morality of using her body seemed much more vague to her now, when her hunger was such an omnipresent need. She made her way to her latest alleyway. She'd been kicked out of the others. But this one was good. It was secluded, yet often filled with younger urchins. Their company made her feel better, though she knew they searched her at night for coins.

I can't believe how tired I am... she thought, feeling dizzy, putting her hand against the wall. She took a few deep breaths. The spells often struck these days.

She started forward again. The alleyway was empty, everyone else staying out in the evening to try getting a few extra coins. She took the best of the spots-an earthen mound which had managed to grow a small tuft of gra.s.s. There weren't even that many rocks in the dirt, though it would be wet with mud from the light rain. She didn't care about that.

Shadows darkened the alleyway behind her.

Her reaction was immediate. She started to run. Living on the streets taught quick lessons. Weak as she was, she managed a burst of speed. However, another shadow stepped across the other end of the alley in front of her. She froze, then turned, looking to see a group of street thugs moving down the alleyway behind her.

At their back was the man who had robbed her a few weeks ago, taking her dress. He looked chagrined. "Sorry, Princess," he said. "Bounty just got too high. Took me blasted long enough to find you, though. You did a great job of hiding."

Vivenna blinked. And then she simply let herself slide down to the ground.

I just can't take any more, she thought, wrapping her arms around herself. She was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, completely. In a way, she was glad it was over. She didn't know what the men would do to her, but she did know it was over. Whomever they sold her to wouldn't be foolish enough to let her escape again.

The thugs cl.u.s.tered around her. She heard one mention Denth. Rough hands grabbed her arm, towing her to her feet. She followed with head bowed. They led her out onto the main street. It was growing dim, but no urchins or beggars made their way toward the alley.

I should have realized, she thought. It was too deserted.

Everything, finally, overwhelmed her. She couldn't summon the energy to care about escaping, not again. A part of her, deep inside, realized that her tutors had been right. When you were weak and hungry, it was hard to summon the energy to care about anything, even escape.

She had trouble remembering her tutors now. She had trouble even remembering what it was like to not be hungry.

The thugs stopped walking. Vivenna looking up, blinking away her dizziness. There was something in the dark, wet street in front of them.

A black sword in a silver sheath stuck from the ground. The weapon, sheath and all, had somehow been rammed down into the earth.

The street grew still. One of the thugs stepped forward, pulling the sword from the ground. He undid the sheath clasp. Vivenna felt a sudden nausea, more of a memory than a real emotion. She stumbled back, horrified.

The other thugs, transfixed, stepped up around their friend. One of them reached for the hilt.

The man carrying the sword struck. He swung the weapon, sheath and all, into the face of his friend. A black smoke began to twist out of the sheath, rising from the tiny bit of the blade that was visible.

Men cried out, each one scrambling for the sword. The man holding it continued to swing, the weapon hitting with far more force and damage than it should have. Bones broke, blood began to run on the cobblestones. The man continued to attack, moving with a terrible speed. Vivenna, still stumbling backward, could see his eyes.

They were terrified.

He killed his last friend-the one who had robbed her on that day that seemed so long ago-by slamming the sheathed sword down against the man's back. Bones cracked. By now, the clothing on the first man's arm had disintegrated, and a blackness-like vines growing on a wall-had twisted up around his shoulder. Black, pulsing veins that bulged out of the skin. The man screamed a piercing, desperate cry.

Then he twisted the sword around and rammed it, sheath and all, through his chest. It cut skin and flesh, though the sheath itself didn't seem sharpened. The man stumbled to his knees, then slumped backward, twitching, staring up into the air as the black veins on his arm began to evaporate. He died like that, kneeling, sword sticking down through his chest and propping him up from behind.

Vivenna stood alone on a street littered with corpses. A figure dropped from a rooftop, lowered by two twisting lengths of animated rope. He landed softly, ropes falling dead. He pa.s.sed Vivenna, ignoring her, and grabbed the sword. He paused for a moment, then did the clasp up and pulled the weapon-sheath and all-free from the corpse.

The dead man finally fell to the ground.

Vivenna stared dully ahead. Then, numb, she sat down in the street. She didn't even twitch as Vasher picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.