Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(173)

Vivenna ground her teeth in frustration, settling back against the wall. Like the other rooms they had stayed in, this one was utterly simple. Their only possessions were a pair of bedrolls and their changes of clothing, all of which Vasher carried about in his duffel.

Denth lived far more luxuriously. He could afford to—he now held all of Lemex’s money. Clever bit, that, she thought. Giving me the money, making me feel like I was in charge. He knew all along that the gold was never out of his hands, just as I never was.

“I was hoping we’d be able to watch him,” she said. “Maybe get a jump on what he’s planning next.”

Vasher shrugged. “Didn’t work. No use crying about it. Come on. I think I can get us in to meet with some of the Idrian workers at one of the orchards, assuming we arrive during the lunch break.”

Vivenna frowned as he turned to go. “Vasher,” she said. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“This?”

“When I was with Denth, we met with crime lords and politicians. You and I are meeting with peasants on corners and in fields.”

“They’re good people!”

“I know they are,” Vivenna said quickly. “But, do you really think we’re making a difference? Compared to what Denth is probably doing, I mean?”

He frowned, but instead of arguing with her, he just pounded his fist against the side of the wall. “I know,” he said. “I’ve tried other leads, but most everything I do seems a step behind Denth. I can kill his gangs of thieves, but he has more of them than I can find. I’ve tried to figure out who is behind the war—even followed leads in the Court of Gods itself—but everyone is growing more and more tight-lipped. They assume the war to be inevitable, now, and don’t want to be seen as being on the losing side of the argument.”

“What about priests?” Vivenna said. “Aren’t they the ones who bring things to the attention of the gods? If we can get more of them to argue against the war, then maybe we can stop it.”

“Priests are fickle,” Vasher said with a shake of his head. “Most of those who argued against the war have caved in. Even Nanrovah switched sides on me.”

“Nanrovah?”

“High priest of Stillmark,” Vasher said. “I thought he was solid—he even met with me a few times to talk about his opposition of the war. Now he refuses to see me anymore and has switched sides. Colorless liar.”

Vivenna frowned. Nanrovah . . . “Vasher,” she said. “We did something to him.”

“What?”

“Denth and his team,” Vivenna said. “We helped a gang of thieves rob from a salt peddler. We used a couple of distractions to cover the burglary. We set a fire in a nearby building and overturned a carriage that was passing through the garden. The carriage belonged to a high priest. I think his name was Nanrovah.”

Vasher cursed quietly.

“You think it might be connected?” she asked.

“Maybe. You know which thieves were actually doing the robbery?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll be back,” he said. “Wait here.”
* * *

SO SHE DID. She waited for hours. She tried practicing her Awakening, but she’d already spent most of the day working on that. She was mentally exhausted and found it difficult to concentrate. Eventually, she found herself staring out the window in annoyance. Denth had always let her go along on his information gathering forays.

That was just because he wanted to keep me close, she thought. Now that she looked back, there were obviously lots of things Denth had been hiding from her. Vasher just didn’t care to placate her.

He wasn’t stingy with information, though, when she asked. His answers were grumpy, but he did usually answer. She still mulled over their conversation about Awakening. Less because of what he’d said. More because of the way he’d said it.



She’d been wrong about him. She was almost certain of that now. She had to stop judging people. But was that possible? Wasn’t interaction based, in part, on judgments? A person’s background and attitudes influenced how she responded to them.

The answer, then, wasn’t to stop judging. It was to hold those judgments as mutable. She’d judged Denth to be a friend, but she shouldn’t have ignored the way he talked about mercenaries having no friends.

The door slammed open. Vivenna jumped, putting a hand to her chest.

Vasher walked in. “Start reaching for that sword when you’re startled,” he said. “There’s little reason to grab your shirt, unless you’re planning to rip it off.”

Vivenna flushed, hair twinging red. The sword he had bought her lay on the side of the room; they hadn’t had much opportunity to practice, and she still barely even knew how to hold the thing properly. “Well?” she asked as he closed the door. It was already dark outside, and the city was beginning to sparkle with lights.

“The robbery was a cover,” Vasher said. “The real hit was that carriage. Denth promised the thieves something valuable if they committed a robbery and started a fire, both as distractions to get at the carriage.”

“Why?” Vivenna asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Coins?” Vivenna asked. “When Tonk Fah hit the horse, it knocked a chest off the top. It was filled with gold.”