"Play along that you are sick?" Llarimar asked, showing a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt. "Your grace, to do that would be to pretend that you're not a G.o.d. I do not believe that's a good precedent for your high priest to set."

"It's the truth," Lightsong whispered. "I'm no G.o.d."

Again, there was no sign of annoyance or anger from Llarimar. He just leaned down. "Please don't say such things, your grace. Even if you yourself do not believe, you should not say so."

"Why not?"

"Because there are many who do believe."

"And I should continue to deceive them?"

Llarimar shook his head. "It is no deception. It's not so uncommon for others to have more faith in a man than he has in himself."

"And that doesn't strike you as a little odd in my case?"

Llarimar smiled. "Not knowing your temperament, it doesn't. Now, what brought this on?"

Lightsong turned, looking up at the ceiling again. "Blushweaver wants my Commands for the Lifeless."

"Yes."

"She'll destroy that new queen of ours," Lightsong said. "Blushweaver worries that the Idris Royals are making a play for the Hallandren throne."

"Do you disagree?"

Lightsong shook his head. "No. They probably are. But the thing is, I don't think the girl-the queen-knows that she's part of anything. I'm worried that Blushweaver will crush the child out of fear."

"It seems that you have a remarkably good handle on this all, your grace," Llarimar said.

"I don't want to be part of it, Scoot," Lightsong said. "I feel myself getting sucked in."

"You are a political being, your grace," Llarimar said. "It is your duty to be involved in these things so that you can lead your kingdom. You can't avoid politics."

"I can avoid it if I don't get out of bed."

Llarimar raised an eyebrow. "You don't honestly believe that, do you your grace?"

Lightsong sighed. "You're not going to give me a lecture about how even my inaction affects politics, are you?"

Llarimar hesitated. "Perhaps. You are a part of the workings of this kingdom-and you produce effects even if you stay in bed. If you do nothing, then the problems are as much your fault as if you had caused them."

"No," Lightsong said. "No, I think you're wrong. If I don't do anything, then at least I can't ruin things. Sure, I can let them go wrong, but that's not the same thing. It really isn't, no matter what people say."

"And if, by acting, you could make things better?"

Lightsong shook his head. "Not going to happen. You know me better than that."

"I do, your grace," Llarimar said. "I know you better, perhaps, than you think I do. You've always been one of the best men I have ever known."

Lightsong rolled his eyes, but then stopped, noting the expression on Llarimar's face.

Best men I have ever known...

Lightsong sat up. "You knew me!" he accused. "That's why you chose to be my priest. You did know me before! Before I died!"

Llarimar said nothing.

"Who was I?" Lightsong asked. "A good man, you claim. What was it about me that made me a good man?"

"I can say nothing, your grace."

"You've already said something," Lightsong said, raising a finger. "You might as well go on. No turning back."

"I've said too much already."

"Come on," Lightsong said. "Just a little bit. Was I from T'Telir, then? How did I die?" Who is she, the woman I see in my dreams?

Llarimar said nothing further.

"I could command you, as your G.o.d, to speak..."

"No you couldn't," Llarimar said, smiling as he stood up. "It's like the rain, your grace. You can say you want to command the weather change, but you don't believe it, deep down. It doesn't obey, and neither would I."

Convenient bit of theology, that, Lightsong thought. Particularly when you want to hide things from your G.o.ds.

Llarimar turned to go. "You have paintings waiting to be judged, your grace. I suggest that you let your servants bathe and dress you so that you can get through the day's work."

Lightsong sighed, stretching. How exactly did he just do that to me? he thought. Llarimar hadn't really even revealed anything, yet Lightsong had overcome his bout of melancholy. He eyed Llarimar as the man reached the door and waved for the servants to return. Perhaps dealing with sullen deities was part of his job description.

But... he knew me before, Lightsong thought. And now he's my priest. How did that happen? "Scoot," Lightsong said, drawing the priest's attention. Llarimar turned, guarded, obviously expecting Lightsong to pry further into his past.

"What should I do?" Lightsong asked. "About Blushweaver and the queen?"

"I cannot tell you, your grace," Llarimar said. "You see, it is by what you do that we learn. If I guide you, then we gain nothing."

"Except perhaps the life of a young girl who is being used as a p.a.w.n."

Llarimar paused. "Do your best, your grace," he said. "That is all I can suggest."

Great, Lightsong thought as he stood. He didn't really know what his 'best' was.

The truth was, he'd never bothered to find out.

Chapter Nineteen.

"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 good shelf s.p.a.ce. Bet we could fit a good half-dozen bodies in here alone."

Vivenna shot the two mercenaries a flat look, causing them to chuckle to themselves. The house wasn't as nice as Lemks' 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. More long than it was wide, the building was fenced on either side with large palm trees, obscuring the view should someone try to spy from the neighboring buildings.

She was pleased. A piece of her worried at living in a home that was-despite being relatively modest by Hallandren standards-nearly as large as the king's palace back in Idris. However, she and Parlin had looked in 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 home had three stories-a small upper story with sleeping chambers, the main story with a kitchen and sitting room, and a cellar for storage. The entire building was spa.r.s.ely furnished, though Parlin had gone to the market to investigate furnishings. She hadn't wanted to spend money on them, but Denth had pointed out that if they didn't at least try to keep up appearances, they could end up drawing even more attention.

"Old Lemks's body will soon 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 watch will be there, and they'll take care of the corpse."

Vivenna stopped at the bottom of the stairs, paling. "That doesn't sound very... respectful."

Denth shrugged. "What do you want to do? Go turn him in at the charnel house yourself?"

"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 sets me a little on edge, letting his body be cared for by..."

"By what?" Denth said, amused. "Heathens?"

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 a.s.sume that her father had felt he was in a similar position-no choice but to do what seemed wrong. Either way, she was finding it harder and harder to look at things in the black and white ways she'd been taught. Those blasted colors kept working their way in.

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 hardwood as they were when lounging in plush chairs. "All right, princess," Denth said, folding a paper out of 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."

"Who exactly was this man?" Vivenna said, frowning. For some reason, she didn't like the idea of working with revolutionaries.

"Vahr was a worker in the dye fields," Denth said. "Things can get bad out in those fields-long hours, little more than food for pay. About five years back, Vahr got the bright idea that if he could convince enough of the other workers to give him their Breath, he might be able to use the power to start a revolt against the overseers. Became something of a hero to the people in the outer flower plantations to the point that he actually drew the attention of the Court of G.o.ds."

"Never really had a chance of starting a real rebellion," Tonk Fah said.

"So what good are they to us?" Vivenna asked.

"Well," Denth said, "you didn't say anything about a rebellion or anything like that. You just want to make it tough for the Hallandrens when they go to war."

"Revolts in the fields would sure be a pain during war," Tonk Fah added.

Vivenna nodded. "All right," she said. "Let's meet with them."

"Just so you know, Princess," Denth said. "These aren't particularly... upscale kinds of folks."

"I am not offended by poverty or people of small means. Austre regards all people equally."

"I didn't mean that," Denth said, rubbing his chin. "It's not that they're peasants, it's that... well, when Vahr's little insurrection went bad, these are the people who were smart enough to get out quickly. That means they weren't all that committed to him in the first place."

"In other words," Tonk Fah said, "they were really just a bunch of thugs and crime lords who thought Vahr might be the source of some easy influence or money."

Great, Vivenna thought. "And... do we want to a.s.sociate with people like that?"

Denth shrugged. "We have to start somewhere."

"The other things on the list are a bit more fun," Tonk Fah said.

"And they are?" Vivenna asked.

"Raid the Lifeless storage warehouse, for one," Denth said, smiling. "We won't be able to kill the things-not without drawing the rest of them down on us. But, we might be able to muck up the way the creatures work."

"That sounds a little dangerous," Vivenna said.

Denth glanced at Tonk Fah, who opened his eyes. They shared a smile.

"What?" Vivenna asked.

"Hazard pay," Tonk Fah said. "We may not steal your money, but we have nothing against overcharging you for extremely dangerous stunts!"

Great, Vivenna thought.

"Beyond that," Denth added, "from what I can tell, Lemks wanted to undermine the food supply situation in the city. It's a good idea, I suppose. Lifeless don't need to eat, but the humans who form the support structure of the army do. Disrupt supply, and perhaps people here will begin to worry if they can afford a long-term war."

"That sounds more reasonable," Vivenna said. "What did you come up with?"

"We raid merchant caravans," Denth said. "Burn things up, cost them a bunch. We make it look like bandits or maybe even remnants of Vahr's supporters. That ought to confuse people in T'Telir and maybe make it more difficult for the priests to go to war."

"Priests run a lot of the trade in the city," Tonk Fah added. "They have all the money so they tend to own the supplies. Burn away the stuff they intended to use for the war, and they'll be more hesitant to attack. It'll buy your people more time."

Vivenna swallowed. "Your plans are a bit more... violent than I had antic.i.p.ated."

The mercenaries shared a look.

"You see," Denth said. "This is where we get our bad reputation. People hire us to do difficult things-like undermine a country's ability to wage war-then complain that we're too violent."