Warbreaker (78 page)

No regular person could have noticed it. To a man with his Heightenings, it was obvious, once he knew what to look for.

These men were not from Hallandren.

Anyone can wear a set of robes
, he realized.
That doesn’t mean that they’re priests.
In fact, judging by the faces, he realized the men must be from Pahn Kahl.

And then it all made sense to him, that quickly. They’d all been played for fools.

~

“Bluefingers,” Siri demanded. “Talk to me. What are you going to do with us?”

The labyrinth of the God King’s palace was complex, and it was sometimes difficult even now for her to find her way around. They’d traveled down a stairwell but now were going up another one.

Bluefingers didn’t answer. He walked with his customary nervousness, wringing his hands. The fighting in the hallways seemed to be decreasing. In fact, once they left the stairwell, this newest hallway was dreadfully quiet.

Siri walked with Susebron’s nervous arm around her waist. She didn’t know what he was thinking—they hadn’t been able to pause long enough for him to write anything. He gave her a comforting smile, but she knew that this all must be just as terrifying for him as it was for her. Probably more so.

“You can’t do this, Bluefingers,” Siri said, snapping at the little balding man.

“It is the only way we’d ever be able to break free,” Bluefingers said, not turning, but finally responding to her.

“But you can’t!” Siri said. “The Idrians are innocent!”

Bluefingers shook his head. “How many of my people would you sacrifice, if it would mean freedom for yours?”

“None!” she said.

“I should like to see you say that if our positions were reversed,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. “I’m...sorry for your pain. But your people are
not
innocent. They’re just like the Hallandren. In the Manywar, you rolled over us, made us your workers and slaves. Only at the end, when the royal family fled, did Idris and Hallandren split.”

“Please,” Siri said.

Susebron suddenly punched a Lifeless.

The God King growled, struggling as he kicked at another. There were dozens of them. He looked at her, waving a hand, motioning for her to flee. She didn’t intend to leave him. Instead, she tried to grab Bluefingers, but a Lifeless was too quick. It took her arm, holding her firm, even when she batted at it. A couple of men wearing the robes of Susebron’s priesthood came out of a stairwell ahead of them, carrying lanterns. Siri, looking closely, immediately recognized them as being from Pahn Kahl. They were too short and their skin color was just slightly off.

I’ve been a fool
, she thought.

Bluefingers had played the game so well. He’d driven a wedge between her and the priests from the start. Most of her fears and worries, she’d gotten from him—and it had been reinforced by the priest’s arrogance. All part of the scribe’s plan to someday use her to gain freedom for his people.

“We have Lightsong’s security phrase,” one of the new men said to Bluefingers. “We have checked it, and it works. We changed it to the new one. The rest of the Lifeless are ours.”

Siri glanced to the side. The Lifeless had pulled Susebron to the ground. He yelled—though it came out as more a moan. Siri yanked, trying to escape her Lifeless and help him. She began to cry.

To the side, Bluefingers nodded to his accomplices, looking fatigued. “Very well. Give the Command. Order the Lifeless to march on Idris.”

“It will be done,” the man said, laying a hand on Bluefingers’s shoulder.

Bluefingers nodded, looking morose as the others withdrew.

“What do you have to be sad about?” she spat.

Bluefingers turned toward her. “My friends now are the only ones who know the Command phrases for Hallandren’s Lifeless army. Once those Lifeless leave for Idris—with orders to destroy everything they find there— my friends will kill themselves with poison. There won’t be anyone who can stop the creatures.”

Austre...
Siri thought, feeling numb.
Lord of Colors...

“Take the God King below,” Bluefingers said, waving to several Lifeless. “Hold him until it is time.” They were joined by a Pahn Kahl scribe wearing fake priest’s robes as they towed Susebron toward the stairwell. Siri reached for him. He continued to struggle, reaching back, but the Lifeless were too strong. She listened to his inarticulate yells echoing down the stairwell.

“What will you do with him?” Siri asked, tears cold on her cheeks.

Bluefingers glanced at her, but once again, would not meet her eyes. “There will be many in the Hallandren government who see the Lifeless attack as a political mistake, and they may seek to stop the war. Unless Hallandren actually commits itself to this fight, our sacrifice will be useless.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We will take the bodies of Lightsong and Blushweaver—the two gods with the Command phrases—and leave them in the Lifeless barracks, surrounded by dead Idrians we took from the city. Then we will leave the corpse of the God King to be discovered in the palace dungeons. Those who investigate will assume that Idrian assassins attacked and killed him—we’ve hired enough mercenaries from the Idrian slums that it shouldn’t be too difficult to believe. Those of my scribes who survive the night will confirm the story.”

Siri blinked out tears.
Everyone will assume that Blushweaver and Lightsong sent the armies as retribution for the death of the God King.

And with the king dead, the people will be furious.

“I wish you hadn’t gotten involved in all of this,” Bluefingers said, motioning for her Lifeless captors to pull her along. “It would have been easier for me if you’d been able to keep yourself from getting pregnant.”

“I’m not!” she said.

“The people think you are,” he said with a sigh as they walked toward the stairwell. “And that’s enough. We have to break this government and we have to make the Idrians angry enough to want to destroy the Hallandren. I think your people will do better in this war than everyone says, especially if the Lifeless march without leadership. Your people will ambush them, making sure this is not an easy war for either side.”

He glanced at her. “But for this war to work right, the Idrians have to
want
to fight. Otherwise, they’ll flee and vanish into those highlands. No, both sides have to hate each other, pull as many allies into the battle as possible so that everyone is too distracted...”

And what better way to make Idris willing to fight
, she thought with horror,
than to kill me? Both sides will see the death of my supposed child as an act of war. This won’t simply be a fight for domination. It will be a drawn-out war of hatred. The fighting could last for decades.

And nobody will ever realize that our real enemy—the one who started it all—is the peaceful, quiet province to the south of Hallandren.

Annotations for Chapter 55

Fifty-Six

Annotations for Chapter 56

Vivenna hung outside the window, breathing deeply, sweating heavily. She’d peeked inside. Denth was in there, as was Tonk Fah. Vasher was hanging from a hook on the ceiling. He was bloodied, and he held no Breath, but he seemed to be alive.

Can I stop both Denth and Tonk Fah?
she thought. Her arms were tired. She had a couple of lengths of rope in her pocket she could Awaken. What if she threw and missed? She had seen Denth fight. He was faster than she’d thought possible. She would have to surprise him. And if she missed, she would die.

What am I doing?
she thought.
Hanging from a wall, about to challenge two professional soldiers?

Her recent past gave her the strength to push down her fear. They might kill her, but that would be a quick end. She’d survived betrayals, the death of a dear friend, and a time going mad from the illness, hunger, and terror of living on the streets. She’d been pushed down, forced to admit that she’d betrayed her people. There wasn’t really any more they could do to her.

For some reason, those thoughts gave her power. Surprised at her own determination, she quietly recovered the Breath from her cloak and her leggings. She Awakened a pair of rope pieces, telling them to grab when thrown. She said a quiet prayer to Austre, then pulled herself up through the window and into the room.

Vasher was groaning. Tonk Fah was dozing in the corner. Denth, holding a bloody knife, looked up immediately as she landed. The look of utter shock on his face was, in itself, almost worth everything she’d been through. She tossed the rope at him, threw the other at Tonk Fah, then dashed into the room.

Denth reacted immediately, cutting the rope out of the air with his dagger. The pieces of it twisted and wriggled, but weren’t long enough to grab anything. The one she threw at Tonk Fah, however, hit. He cried out, waking as it wrapped around his face and neck.

Vivenna pulled to a halt beside Vasher’s swinging body. Denth had his sword out; he’d pulled it free more quickly than she could track. She gulped, then pulled out her own sword, holding it forward as Vasher had taught her. Denth paused just briefly in surprise.

That was enough. She swung—not for Denth, but for the rope holding Vasher to the ceiling. He fell with a grunt, and Denth struck, slamming the point of his dueling blade through her shoulder.

She fell, gasping in pain.

Denth stepped back. “Well, Princess,” he said, warily holding his blade. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Tonk Fah made a gagging sound as the rope twisted around his neck, choking him. He struggled to pull it free with little success.

Once, the pain in her shoulder might have been debilitating. But after the beatings she’d taken on the street, it seemed somewhat familiar to her. She looked up, and met Denth’s eyes.

“Was this supposed to be a rescue?” Denth asked. “Because honestly, I’m not very impressed.”

Tonk Fah knocked over his stool in his thrashing. Denth glanced at him, then back at Vivenna. There was a moment of silence, save for Tonk Fah’s weakening struggles. finally, Denth cursed and jumped over to cut at the rope on his friend’s neck.

“You all right?” Vasher asked from beside her. She was shocked by how solid his voice sounded, despite his bloodied body.

She nodded.

“They’re going to send Lifeless marching on your homeland,” he said. “We’ve been wrong about this all along. I don’t know who’s behind it, but I think they’re winning the fight for the palace.”

Denth finally got the rope cut free.

“You need to run,” Vasher said, wiggling his hands free from their rope bonds. “Get back to your people, tell them not to fight the Lifeless. They need to flee through the northern passes, hide in the highlands.
Do not fight
or bring other kingdoms into the war.”

Vivenna glanced back at Denth, who was smacking Tonk Fah back to consciousness. Then she closed her eyes. “Your Breath to mine,” she said, drawing back the Breath from her hand tassels, adding it to the large amount she still held from before. She reached out, placing her hand on Vasher.

“Vivenna...” he said.

“My life to yours,” she said. “My Breath become yours.”

Her world became a thing of dullness. Beside her, Vasher gasped, then began to convulse at the bestowal of Breath. Denth stood up, spinning.

“You do it, Vasher,” Vivenna whispered. “You’ll be far better at it than I will be.”

“Stubborn woman,” Vasher said as he overcame the convulsions. He reached out, as if to restore her Breath to her, but noticed Denth.

Denth smiled, raising his blade. Vivenna put a hand to her shoulder, stopping the blood flow, and she began to push herself back toward the window—though, without Breath, she wasn’t certain what she intended to do there.

Vasher stood up, taking her sword in his hand. He wore only the bloody, knee-length underbreeches, but his stance was firm. He slowly wrapped the rope he’d been hanging from around his waist, forming his characteristic belt.

How does he do it?
she thought.
Where does his strength come from?

“I should have hurt you more,” Denth said. “I took my time. Savoring it too much.”

Vasher snorted, tying off the belt. Denth seemed to be waiting, anticipating something.

“I’ve always found it funny that we bleed, just like ordinary men,” Denth said. “We might be stronger, might live much longer, but we die just the same.”

“Not the same,” Vasher said, raising Vivenna’s blade. “Other men die with far more honor than we, Denth.”

Denth smiled. Vivenna could see excitement in his eyes.
He always claimed that there was no way Vasher could have beat his friend, Arsteel, in a duel
, she thought.
He wants to fight Vasher. He wants to prove to himself that Vasher isn’t as good as he is.

Blades whipped into motion. And after just a quick exchange, Vivenna could see that there was no contest. Denth was clearly the better. Perhaps it was Vasher’s wounds. Perhaps it was the growing anger she saw in Vasher’s eyes as he fought, marring his ability to be calm and collected during the fight. Maybe he just really wasn’t as good as Denth. However, as Vivenna watched, she realized that Vasher was going to lose.

I didn’t do all this so you could just die!
she thought, rising to try to help.

A hand fell on her shoulder, pushing her back down. “I don’t think so,” Tonk Fah said, looming over her. “Nice trick with the rope, by the way. Very clever. I know a few tricks with ropes myself. Did you know, for instance, that a rope can be used to burn a person’s flesh?” He smiled, then leaned down. “Mercenary humor, you see.”

His cloak slid slightly off his shoulder, falling against her cheek.

It can’t be
, she thought.
I escaped from him. I tried to Awaken his cloak, but used a bad Command. Could he have been stupid enough to keep wearing it?

She smiled, glancing over her shoulder. Vasher had backed against the far wall, to the window, and he was sweating profusely, bloody drops falling to the ground. Denth forced him back again, and Vasher stepped up on the table by the far wall, seeking high ground.