Warbreaker (36 page)

The God King sat, looking confused but thoughtful.
You are very normal
, he finally wrote.

Siri frowned. “Um. Thank you?”

Was that good sarcasm?
he wrote.
Because in reality, you are quite strange.

She smiled. “I try my best.”

He looked up.

“That was sarcasm again,” she said. “I don’t ‘try’ to be strange. It just happens.”

He looked at her. How had she ever been frightened of this man? How had she misunderstood? The look in his eyes, it wasn’t arrogance or emotionlessness. It was the look of a man who was trying very hard to understand the world around him. It was innocence. Earnestness.

However, he was not simple. The speed at which he’d learned to write proved that. True, he’d already understood the spoken version of the language—and he’d memorized all of the letters in the book years before meeting her. She’d only needed to explain the rules of spelling and sound for him to make the final jump.

She still found it amazing how quickly he picked things up. She smiled at him, and he hesitantly smiled back.

“Why do you say that I’m strange?” she asked.

You do not do things like other people
, he wrote.
Everyone else bows before me all of the time. Nobody talks to me. Even the prests, they only okashonally give me instrukshons—and they haven’t done that in years.

“Does it offend you that I don’t bow, and that I talk to you like a friend?”

He erased his board.
Offend me? Why would it offend me? Do you do it in sarcasm?

“No,” she said quickly. “I really like talking to you.”

Then I do not understand.

“Everyone else is afraid of you,” Siri said. “Because of how powerful you are.”

But they took away my tongue to make me safe.

“It’s not your Breath that scares them,” Siri said. “It’s your power over armies and people. You’re the God King. You could order anyone in the kingdom killed.”

But why would I do that?
he wrote.
I would not kill a good person. They must know that.

Siri sat back, resting on the plush bed, the fire crackling in the hearth behind them. “I know that, now,” she said. “But nobody else does. They don’t know you, they know only how powerful you are. So they fear you. And so they show their respect for you.”

He paused.
And so, you do not respect me?

“Of course I do,” she said, sighing. “I’ve just never been very good at following rules. In fact, if someone tells me what to do, I usually want to do the opposite.”

That is very strange
, he wrote.
I thought all people did what they were told.

“I think you’ll find that most do not,” she said, smiling.

That will get you into trouble.

“Is that what the priests taught you?”

He shook his head; then he reached over and took out his book. The book of stories for children. He brought it with him always, and she could see from his reverent touch that he valued it greatly.

It’s probably his only real possession
, she thought.
Everything else is taken from him every day, then replaced the next morning.

This book
, he wrote.
My mother read the stories to me when I was a child. I memorized them all, before she was taken away. It speaks of many children who do not do as they are told. They are often eaten by monsters.

“Oh are they?” Siri said, smiling.

Do not be afraid, he wrote. My mother taught me that the monsters are not real. But I remember the lessons the stories taught. Obediance is good. You shud treat people well. Do not go into the jungle by yourself. Do not lie. Do not hurt others.

Siri’s smile deepened. Everything he’d learned in his life, he’d either gotten from moralistic folktales or from priests who were teaching him to be a figurehead. Once she realized that, the simple, honest man that he had become was not so difficult to understand.

Yet what had prompted him to defy that learning and ask her to teach him? Why was he willing to keep his learning secret from the men he had been taught all his life to obey and trust? He was not quite so innocent as he appeared.

“These stories,” she said. “Your desire to treat people well. Is that what kept you from...taking me on any of those nights when I first came into the room?”

From taking you? I do not understand.

Siri blushed, hair turning red to match. “I mean, why did you just sit there?”

Because I did not know what else to do
, he said.
I knew that we need to have a child. So I sat and waited for it to happen. We must be doing something wrong, for no child has come.

Siri paused, then blinked. He couldn’t possibly...“You don’t know how to have children?”
In the stories
, he wrote,
a man and a woman spend the night together. Then they have a child. We spent many nights together, and there were no children.

“And nobody—none of your priests—explained the process to you?”

No. What process do you mean?

She sat for a moment. No, she thought, feeling her blush deepen.
I am not going to have that conversation with him.
“I think we’ll talk about it another time.”

It was a very strange experience when you came into the room that first night
, he wrote.
I must admit, I was very scared of you.

Siri smiled as she remembered her own terror. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would be frightened. Why would it have? He was the God King. “So,” she said, tapping the bedspread with one finger, “you were never taken to other women?”

No
, he wrote.
I did find it very interesting to see you naked.

She flushed again, though her hair had apparently decided to just stay red. “That’s not what we’re talking about right now,” she said. “I want to know about other women. No mistresses? No concubines?”

No.

“They really are scared of you having a child.”

Why say that?
he wrote.
They sent you to me.

“Only after fifty years of rule,” she said. “And only under very controlled circumstances, with the proper lineage to produce a child with the right bloodline. Bluefingers thinks that child might be a danger to us.”
I do not understand why
, he wrote.
This is what everyone wants. There must be an heir.

“Why?” Siri said. “You still look like you’re barely two decades old. Your aging is slowed by your BioChroma.”

Without an heir, the kingdom is in danger. Should I be killed, there will be nobody to rule.

“And that wasn’t a danger for the last fifty years?”

He paused, frowning, then slowly erased his board.

“They must think that you’re in danger now,” she said slowly. “But not from sickness—even I know that Returned don’t suffer from diseases. In fact, do they even age at all?”

I don’t think so
, the God King wrote.

“How did the previous God Kings die?”

There have been only four
, he wrote.
I do not know how they died for certain.

“Only four kings in several hundred years, all dead of mysterious circumstances....”

My father died before I was old enough to remember him
, Susebron wrote.
I was told he gave his life for the kingdom—that he released his BioChromatic Breath, as all Returned can, to cure a terrible disease. The other Returned can only cure one person. A God King, however, can cure many. That is what I was told.

“There must be a record of that then,” she said. “Somewhere in those books the priests have guarded so tightly.”

I am sorry that they would not let you read them
, he wrote.

She waved an indifferent hand. “There wasn’t much chance of it working. I’ll need to find another way to get at those histories.”
Having a child is the danger
, she thought.
That’s what Bluefingers said. So whatever threat there is to my life, it will only come after there is an heir. Bluefingers mentioned a threat to the God King too. That almost makes it sound like the danger comes from the priests themselves. Why would they want to harm their own god?

She glanced at Susebron, who was flipping intently through his book of stories. She smiled at the look of concentration on his face as he deciphered the text.

Well
, she thought,
considering what he knows of sex, I’d say that we don’t have to worry much about having a child in the near future.

Of course, she was also worried that the lack of a child would prove just as dangerous as the presence of one.

Annotations for Chapter 24

Twenty-Five

Annotations for Chapter 25

Vivenna went among the people of T’Telir and couldn’t help feeling that every one of them recognized her.

She fought the feeling down. It was actually a miracle that Thame—who came from her own home city—had been able to pick her out. The people around her would have no way of connecting Vivenna to the rumors they might have heard, especially considering her clothing.

Immodest reds and yellows layered one atop the other on her dress. The garment had been the only one that Parlin and Tonk Fah had been able to find that met her stringent requirements for modesty. The tubelike dress was made after a foreign cut, from Tedradel, across the Inner Sea. It came down almost to her ankles, and though its snugness emphasized her bust, at least the garment covered her almost up to the neck, and had full-length sleeves.

Rebelliously, she did find herself stealing glances at the other women in their loose, short skirts and sleeveless tops. That much exposed skin was scandalous, but with the blazing sun and the cursed coastal humidity, she could see why they did it.

After a month in the city, she was also beginning to get the hang of moving with the flow of traffic. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to be out, but Denth had been persuasive.

You know the worst thing that can happen to a bodyguard? he had asked. Letting your charge get killed when you aren’t even there. We have a small team, Princess. We can either divide and leave you behind with one guard or you can come with us. Personally, I’d like to have you along where I can keep an eye on you.

And so she’d come. Dressed in one of her new gowns, her hair turned an uncomfortable—yet un-Idrian—yellow and left loose, blowing behind her. She walked around the garden square, as if out on a stroll, moving so that she wouldn’t look nervous. The people of T’Telir liked gardens—they had all kinds all over the city. In fact, from what Vivenna had seen, most of the city practically
was
a garden. Palms and ferns grew on every street, and exotic flowers bloomed everywhere year-round.

Four streets crossed in the square, with four plots of cultivated ground forming a checkerboard pattern. Each sprouted a dozen different palms. The buildings surrounding the gardens were more rich than the ones in the market up the way. And while there was plenty of foot traffic, people made certain to stick to the slate sidewalks, for carriages were common. This was a wealthy shopping district. No tents. Fewer performers. Higher quality—and more expensive—shops.

Vivenna strolled along the perimeter of the northwestern garden block. There were ferns and grass to her right. Shops of a quaint, rich, and—of course—colorful variety lay across the street to her left. Tonk Fah and Parlin lounged between two of these. Parlin had the monkey on his shoulder, and had taken to wearing a colorful red vest with his green hat. She couldn’t help thinking that the woodsman was even more out of place in T’Telir than she was, but he didn’t seem to attract any attention.

Vivenna kept walking. Jewels trailed her somewhere in the crowd. The woman was good—Vivenna only rarely caught a glimpse of her, and that was because she’d been told where to look. She never saw Denth. He was there somewhere, far too stealthy for her to spot. As she reached the end of the street and turned around to walk back, she did catch sight of Clod. The Lifeless stood as still as one of the D’Denir statues that lined the gardens, impassively watching the crowds pass. Most of the people ignored him.

Denth was right. Lifeless weren’t plentiful, but they also weren’t uncommon. Several walked through the market carrying packages for their owners. None of these were as muscular or as tall as Clod—Lifeless came in as many shapes and sizes as people. They were put to work guarding shops. Acting as packmen. Sweeping the walkway. All around her.

She continued to walk, and she caught a brief glimpse of Jewels in the crowd as she passed.
How does she manage to look so relaxed?
Vivenna thought. Each of the mercenaries looked as calm as if they were at a leisurely picnic.

Don’t think about the danger
, Vivenna thought, clenching her fists. She focused on the gardens. The truth was, she was a little jealous of the T’Telirites. People lounged, sitting on the grass, lying in the shade of trees, their children playing and laughing. D’Denir statues stood in a solemn line, arms upraised, weapons at the ready, as if in defense of the people. Trees climbed high into the sky, spreading branches that grew strange flowerlike bundles.

Wide-petaled flowers bloomed in planters; some of them were actually Tears of Edgli. Austre had placed the flowers where he wanted them. To cut and bring them back, to use them to adorn a room or house, was ostentation. Yet was it ostentatious to plant them in the middle of the city, where all were free to enjoy them?

She turned away. Her BioChroma continued to sense the beauty. The density of life in one area made a sort of buzz inside her chest.

No wonder they like to live so close together
, she thought, noticing how a group of flowers scaled in color, fanning toward the inside of their planter.
And if you’re going to live this compactly, the only way to see nature would be to bring it in.

“Help! fire!”

Vivenna spun, as did most of the other people on the street. The building Tonk Fah and Parlin had been standing next to was burning. Vivenna didn’t continue to gawk, but turned and looked toward the center of the gardens. Most of the people in the garden itself were stunned, looking toward the smoke billowing into the air.