Warbreaker (Warbreaker 1)

“Yeah,” Tonk Fah added, peeking into a closet. “And it has plenty of storage. Bet we could fit a good half-dozen bodies in here alone.”

Vivenna shot the two mercenaries a look, causing them to chuckle to themselves. The house wasn’t as nice as Lemex’s had been; she didn’t want to be ostentatious. It was one of many that were built in a row along a well-maintained street. Deeper than it was wide, the building was bordered on either side with large palm trees, obscuring the view should someone try to spy from the neighboring buildings.

She was pleased. Part of her balked at living in a home that was—despite being modest by Hallandren standards—nearly as large as the king’s palace back in Idris. However, she and Parlin had looked at and rejected cheaper sections of town. She didn’t want to live in a place where she was afraid to go out at night, particularly since she worried that her Breath might make her a target.

She trailed down the stairs, the mercenaries following. The house had three stories—a small upper story with sleeping chambers, the main floor with a kitchen and sitting room, and a cellar for storage. The building was sparsely furnished, and Parlin had gone to the market to shop for more. She hadn’t wanted to spend the money, but Denth had pointed out that they must at least try to keep up appearances, lest they end up drawing even more attention.

“Old Lemex’s house will be taken care of soon,” Denth said. “We left some hints in the underground, mentioning that the old man was dead. Whatever we didn’t ransack, a gang of burglars will take care of tonight. By tomorrow, the city guard will be there, and they’ll assume that the place was burgled. The nurse has been paid off, and she never knew who Lemex really was anyway. When nobody comes to pay for the funeral services, the authorities will take the house in forfeit and have the body burned with other debtors.”

Vivenna stopped at the bottom of the stairs, paling. “That doesn’t sound very respectful.”

Denth shrugged. “What do you want to do? Go claim him at the charnel house yourself? Give him an Idrian ceremony?”

“Good way to get people asking questions, that,” Tonk Fah said.

“Better to just let others deal with it,” Denth said.

“I suppose,” Vivenna said, turning away from the stairs and walking into the sitting room. “It just bothers me, letting his body be cared for by . . .”

“By what?” Denth said, amused. “Pagans?”

Vivenna didn’t look at him.

“The old man didn’t seem to care much about heathen ways,” Tonk Fah noted. “Not with the number of Breaths he held. Of course, didn’t your daddy give him the money to buy them?”

Vivenna closed her eyes.

You hold those same Breaths, she told herself. You’re not innocent in all of this.

She hadn’t been given a choice. She could only hope and assume that her father had felt he was in a similar position—no choice but to do what seemed wrong.

Lacking furniture, Vivenna arranged her dress and knelt on the wooden floor, hands in her lap. Denth and Tonk Fah sat back against the wall, looking just as comfortable sitting on a hardwood floor as they were when lounging in plush chairs. “All right, Princess,” Denth said, unfolding a paper from his pocket. “We’ve got some plans for you.”

“Please continue, then.”

“First,” Denth said, “we can get you a meeting with some of Vahr’s allies.”

“Who exactly was this man?” Vivenna said, frowning. She didn’t like the idea of working with revolutionaries.

“Vahr was a worker in the dye fields,” Denth said. “Things can get bad out in those fields—long hours, little more than food for pay. About five years back, Vahr got the bright idea that if he could convince enough of the other workers to give him their Breath, he might be able to use the power to start a revolt against the overseers. Became enough of a hero to the people in the outer flower plantations that he actually drew the attention of the Court of Gods.”

“Never truly had a chance of starting a real rebellion,” Tonk Fah said.

“So what good are his men to us?” Vivenna asked. “If they never had a chance of succeeding.”

“Well,” Denth said, “you didn’t say anything about a rebellion or anything like that. You just want to make it tough for the Hallandren when they go to war.”

“Revolts in the fields would sure be a pain during war,” Tonk Fah added.

Vivenna nodded. “All right,” she said. “Let’s meet with them.”

“Just so you know, Princess,” Denth said. “These aren’t particularly . . . sophisticated kinds of folks.”

“I am not offended by poverty or people of small means. Austre regards all people equally.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Denth said, rubbing his chin. “It’s not that they’re peasants, it’s that . . . well, when Vahr’s little insurrection went bad, these are the people who were smart enough to get out quickly. That means they weren’t all that committed to him in the first place.”

“In other words,” Tonk Fah said, “they were really just a bunch of thugs and crime lords who thought Vahr might be the source of some easy influence or money.”

Great, Vivenna thought. “And do we want to associate with people like that?”

Denth shrugged. “We have to start somewhere.”

“The other things on the list are a bit more fun,” Tonk Fah said.

“And they are?” Vivenna asked.

“Raid the Lifeless storage ware house, for one,” Denth said, smiling. “We won’t be able to kill the things—not without drawing the rest of them down on us. But we might be able to muck up the way the creatures work.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Vivenna said.

Denth glanced at Tonk Fah, who opened his eyes. They shared a smile.

“What?” Vivenna asked.

“Hazard pay,” Tonk Fah said. “We may not steal your money, but we have nothing against overcharging you for extremely dangerous stunts!”

Vivenna rolled her eyes.

“Beyond that,” Denth added, “from what I can tell, Lemex wanted to undermine the city’s food supply. It’s a good idea, I suppose. Lifeless don’t need to eat, but the humans who form the support structure of the army do. Disrupt supply, and perhaps people here will begin to worry if they can afford a long-term war.”

“That sounds more reasonable,” Vivenna said. “What did you come up with?”

“We raid merchant caravans,” Denth said. “Burn things up, cost them a bunch. We make it look like bandits or maybe even remnants of Vahr’s supporters. That ought to confuse people in T’Telir and maybe make it more difficult for the priests to go to war.”

“Priests run a lot of the trade in the city,” Tonk Fah added. “They have all the money so they tend to own the supplies. Burn away the stuff they intended to use for the war, and they’ll be more hesitant to attack. It’ll buy your people more time.”

Vivenna swallowed. “Your plans are a bit more . . . violent than I had anticipated.”

The mercenaries shared a look.

“You see,” Denth said. “This is where we get our bad reputation. People hire us to do difficult things—like undermine a country’s ability to wage war—then complain that we’re too violent.”

“Very unfair,” Tonk Fah agreed.

“Perhaps she’d rather we buy puppies for all of her enemies, then send them with nice apologetic notes, asking them to stop being so mean.”

“And then,” Tonk Fah said, “when they don’t stop, we could kill the puppies!”

“All right,” Vivenna said. “I understand that we’ll have to use a firm hand, but . . . really. I don’t want the Hallandrens to starve because of what we do.”

“Princess,” Denth said, sounding more serious. “These people want to attack your homeland. They see your family as the greatest existing threat to their power—and they’re going to make certain that nobody of the royal blood lives to challenge them.”

“They get a child by your sister to be the next God King,” Tonk Fah said, “then they kill every other person of royal blood. They never have to worry about you again.”

Denth nodded. “Your father and Lemex were right. The Hallandren have everything to lose by not attacking you. And, from what I can see, your people are going to need every bit of help you can give them. That means doing everything we can—scaring the priests, breaking their supply reserves, weakening their armies—to help out.”

“We can’t stop the war,” Tonk Fah added. “We can just make the fight a little more fair.”

Vivenna took a deep breath, then nodded. “All right, then, we’ll—”

At that moment, the door to the building flew open, slamming against the other side of the wall. Vivenna looked up. A figure stood in the doorway—a tall, bulky man with unusually large muscles and flat features. It took her a moment to register the other oddity about him.

His skin was grey. His eyes too. There was no color to him at all, and her Heightenings told her that he didn’t have a single Breath. A Lifeless soldier.

Vivenna scrambled to her feet, barely keeping in a cry of distress. She backed away from the large soldier. It just stood there, immobile, not even breathing. Its eyes tracked her—they didn’t just stare ahead like those of a dead man.

For some reason, she found that the most unnerving.

“Denth!” Vivenna said. “What are you doing? Attack!”

The mercenaries remained where they were, lounging on the floor. Tonk Fah barely cracked an eye open. “Ah well,” Denth said. “Looks like we’ve been discovered by the city watch.”

“Pity,” Tonk Fah said. “This was looking like it would be a fun job.”

“Nothing but execution for us now,” Denth said.

“Attack!” Vivenna cried. “You’re my bodyguards, you’re . . .” She trailed off, noticing as the two men began to chuckle.

Oh, Colors, not again, she thought. “What?” she said. “Some kind of joke? Did you paint that man grey? What’s going on?”

“Move it, you rock on legs,” a voice said from behind the Lifeless. The creature walked into the room, carrying a couple of canvas bags over its shoulders. As it entered, it revealed a shorter woman standing behind. Thick through the thighs and through the bust, she had light brown hair that came down to her shoulders. She stood with hands on hips, looking upset.

“Denth,” she snapped, “he’s here. In the city.”

“Good,” Denth said, lounging back. “I owe that man a sword through the gut.”

The woman snorted. “He killed Arsteel. What makes you think you can beat him?”

“I’ve always been the better swordsman,” Denth said calmly.

“Arsteel was good too. Now he’s dead. Who’s the woman?”