Warbreaker

Chapter 19

“This is nice,” Denth said, looking over the house. “Strong wood paneling. Will break very cleanly.”

“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 ser vices, 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.”