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EIGHT

«Yes, Captain Xornbane, by all means, dispatch diem,» Faeryl's mother said as the gray dwarves closed in on both Drisinil and Quenthel.

The two drow and the draegloth, unable to flee, stared about themselves. While Jeggred merely seethed with rage, straining to break free of the magical hold over him, Quenthel and Drisinil looked wild, desperate. The duergar who had spoken motioned, and several of the other gray dwarves moved in, axes lifted.

«Wait!» Faeryl exclaimed, then leaned in close to whisper with Ssipriina privately for a moment. «Mother, let's not kill the two Men-zoberranyr yet. I'd like to keep them for a while.»

«I think that would be an extraordinarily bad idea,» one of the males near her mother said, also leaning in.

Faeryl glared at the impertinent male, whom she seemed to recall was not of the family but had worked diligently as an aid for a number of years. Zammzt, she thought his name was. She wrinkled her nose slightly, for he was far from pretty.

«Do you always butt into conversations you were not meant to hear?» the ambassador asked.

Zammzt merely bowed in acquiescence and said, «Forgive me, but I am only looking after the House's best interests. If this plan of subversion and surprise is to succeed in overthrowing House Melarn, then no one who knows the truth can be allowed to live. If the drow or the fiend are able to relay to anyone—anyone at all—what transpired here today, you will lose your backing from the other Houses. No one will support your rise to the council, Matron Mother. It's an unnecessary risk.»

Matron Mother Zauvirr studied her daughter carefully for a moment then said, «He does have a point.»

«Mother, believe me,» Faeryl replied, «they will never get the chance to talk to anyone. I will make sure of it.»

Ssipriina finally nodded and said, «All right, you've earned the chance to extract a little revenge, I suppose, but you must make certain that they do not talk to anyone, especially not Halisstra. Do you understand?»

Zammzt clicked his tongue in consternation, but he apparently knew better than to argue further. He had made his case and had lost. He moved off to engage in conversation with some of the House wizards.

Faeryl, elated, said, «Of course, Mother. I understand all too well. If our plan is to succeed, everyone must think these two were plotting together.»

«Precisely. Now, I must go and prepare. We still have a lot of work to do.»

With that, Ssipriina Zauvirr departed, Zammzt falling in beside her, his head leaning in close to discuss issues privately.

The ambassador moved back over to Quenthel once more.

«You see, Mistress Baenre,» she said, trying to emphasize the honorific to the point of sounding absurd, «we didn't really steal the Black Claw merchandise. You did. Or at least, that's how it will appear when we report finding members of two powerful Houses meeting in secret, having already smuggled desperately needed supplies out of Ched Nasad and preparing to steal even more.

«I'm sure they'll wonder why Matron Mother Melarn would have wanted to turn her back on her own city in favor of Menzoberranzan, but unfortunately, they won't be able to ask her, since she resisted us and had to be killed.»

Faeryl signaled to the commanding duergar and watched with a warm feeling as three of the gray dwarves stepped close. At her nod, they raised their axes high and swung. Behind her, Faeryl heard Quenthel's muffled cry of protest, but she didn't bother turning around.

There was no more than a grunt from Drisinil as three axes slammed into her flesh, but the blades bit deeply and the fat drow's eyes widened in pain and terror, though she couldn't react in any other way. The three duergar yanked their axes free and prepared to strike again, but Faeryl motioned for them to hold. She wanted to watch as Drisinil died slowly.

«You'll never look down your nose at me again, you fat roth.»

Drisinil's red eyes blinked and widened, seeming to plead with Faeryl in some way, but the younger drow only smiled as she stood casually, hands on hips, and watched the matron mother's lifeblood drip into a puddle on the floor around her motionless body. Drisinil shuddered, and her eyes began to glaze over. Her breathing was rapid for a moment or two, then stopped. Her lifeless eyes stared at nothing.

Faeryl turned back to Quenthel, who had been able to see the murder. The high priestess seemed to look both terrified and furious, all at the same time. The ambassador stepped in close to the Baenre noble and smiled.

«Of course, they'll be told that you were caught while trying to flee the scene, though you and I will know better, at least for a time. You and Jeggred are going to receive a stay of execution, just as I did back in Menzoberranzan. Aren't you pleased? Instead of dying right away, you'll get some of House Zauvirr's hospitality, just as I was graciously entertained by your sister.»

Faeryl spat the words at her captive, the smile gone from her face. All of the hatred, the fear, surged to the forefront of her thoughts.

And as for you, you wretched, foul-smelling beast,» Faeryl said, turning to Jeggred, «I will ensure that you learn what true pain is.»

The draegloth's eyes bored into her balefully, but she forced herself to stare resolutely back at him for three long breaths before finally turning away.

«Gruherth,» Faeryl called, looking for one of her brothers in the throng of drow still milling about, «I want those two moved—secretly, mind you—to the dungeons in House Melarn.»

Gruherth appeared and said, «We'll need a safe way to transport them.»

«I’ll take care of that,» another wizard said, stepping closer to the fiend.

Pulling a few items from his pockets, the mage cast a spell, and a large white bubble formed around the draegloth. At the instruction of the wizard, four guards lifted the sphere—with surprising ease, Faeryl noted—and began to carry it into another part of the storehouse.

Very quickly, the same spell was applied to Quenthel, and four other drow boys bore her milky white sphere away, too.

Faeryl turned and looked for the duergar leader.

«Captain. . Xornbane, is it?»

The gray dwarf who had given the order to kill Drisinil nodded.

«As I understand it, the next step in our plan is to get your company inside House Melarn unnoticed.»

«That's right,» the duergar repeated, folding his arms across his chest impatiently.

«Have all the arrangements been made to deal with this?»

«They have,» he said, then he turned and trudged off after Faeryl's mother, leaving the ambassador to fume at his rudeness.

Gruherth reappeared.

«We're ready to begin moving everything through to the interior of House Melarn,» he said to his sister. «Mother wants you there at the front so that we can throw off suspicion in case there are Melarn troops in sight once we begin crossing through the portal.»

Faeryl grimaced but nodded. She had forgotten how much at her mother's beck and call she had been when she was last in the city. Still, she decided, it was better than being at Quenthel's beck and call.

Much better.


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