Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(119)

There were three of them, each with his own complement of bodyguards. She had been told of them ahead of time. The leaders wore rich, vibrant T’Telir colors. Slumlords. Vivenna felt her stomach twist. All three of the men had at least the First Heightening. One of them had attained the Third.

Jewels and Clod took their places outside the building, guarding Vivenna’s escape route. Vivenna walked in and sat in the last open chair. Denth and Tonk Fah took up protective places behind her.

Vivenna regarded the slumlords. All three were variations on the same theme. The one on the left looked most comfortable in his rich clothing. That would be Paxen—the “gentleman Idrian,” he was called. He’d gotten his money from running brothels. The one on the right looked like he needed a haircut to match his fine garments. That would be Ashu, who was known for running and funding underground fighting leagues where men could watch Idrians box each other to unconsciousness. The one in the center seemed the self-indulgent type. He was sloppy—but in a purposefully relaxed way, perhaps because it was a nice accent to his handsome, youthful face. Rira, Thame’s employer.

She reminded herself not to put too much stock in any facile interpretation of their appearances. These were dangerous men.

The room was silent.

“I’m not sure what to say to you,” Vivenna said finally. “I came to find something that doesn’t exist. I was hoping that the people still cared about their heritage.”

Rira leaned forward, sloppy clothing out of place compared with the clothing of the others in the room. “You’re our princess,” he said. “Daughter of our king. We care about that.”

“Kind of,” said Paxen.

“Really, Princess,” Rira said. “We’re honored to meet with you. And curious at your intentions in our city. You’ve been making quite a stir.”

Vivenna regarded them with a serious expression. Finally, she sighed. “You all know that war is coming.”

Rira nodded. Ashu, however, shook his head. “I’m not convinced there will be war. Not yet.”

“It is coming,” Vivenna said sharply. “I promise you that. My intentions in this city, therefore, are to make certain that the war goes as well for Idris as possible.”

“And what would that entail?” Ashu asked. “A royal on the throne of Hallandren?”

Was that what she wanted? “I just want our people to survive.”

“A weak middle ground,” said Paxen, polishing the top of his fine cane. “Wars are fought to be won, Your Highness. The Hallandren have Lifeless. Beat them, and they’ll just make more. I think that an Idrian military presence in the city would be an absolute necessity if you wanted to bring our homeland freedom.”

Vivenna frowned.

“You think to overthrow the city?” asked Ashu. “If you do, what do we get out of it?”

“Wait,” said Paxen. “Overthrow the city? Are we sure we want to get involved in that sort of thing again? What of Vahr’s failure? We all lost a lot of money in that venture.”

“Vahr was from Pahn Kahl,” said Ashu. “Not one of us at all. I’m willing to take another risk if there are real royals involved this time.”

“I didn’t say anything about overthrowing the kingdom,” Vivenna said. “I just want to bring the people some hope.” Or, at least, I did . . .

“Hope?” asked Paxen. “Who cares about hope? I want commitments. Will titles be handed out? Who gets the trade contracts if Idris wins?”

“You have a sister,” Rira said. “A third one, unmarried. Is her hand bargainable? Royal blood could gain my support for your war.”

Vivenna’s stomach twisted. “Gentlemen,” she said in her diplomat’s voice, “this is not about seeking personal gain. This is about patriotism.”

“Of course, of course,” Rira said. “But even patriots should earn rewards. Right?”

All three looked at her expectantly.

Vivenna stood up. “I will be going, now.”

Denth, looking surprised, laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure?” he asked. “It took quite a bit of effort to set up this meeting.”

“I have been willing to work with thugs and thieves, Denth,” she said quietly. “But seeing these and knowing they’re my own people is too hard.”

“You judge us quickly, Princess,” Rira said from behind, chuckling. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t expect this?”

“Expecting something is different from seeing it firsthand, Rira. I expected you three. I didn’t expect to see what had happened to our people.”

“And the Five Visions?” Rira asked. “You sweep in here, judge us beneath you, then sweep away? That’s not very Idrian of you.”

She turned back toward the men. The long-haired Ashu had already stood and was gathering his bodyguards to go, grumbling about the “waste of time.”

“What do you know of being Idrian?” she snapped. “Where is your obedience of Austre?”

Rira reached beneath his shirt, pulling out a small white disk, inscribed with his parents’ names. An Austrin charm of obedience. “My father carried me down here from the highlands, Princess. He died working the Edgli fields. I’ve pulled myself up by the pain of my scraped, bleeding hands. I worked very hard to make things better for your people. When Vahr spoke of revolution, I gave him coin to feed his supporters.”