蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第17章

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〃I　don't　think　they　knew　anything。　I　think　they　were　merely　sympathetic　to　the　idea　of　eloping　and　generally　in　a　foul　mood。　It　looked　as　if　one　of　the　females　in　House　Godeep　had　disciplined　them　with　her　fists　or　a　cudgel；　and　they　only　needed　an　excuse　to　try　and　take　their　resentment　out　on　someone。〃
〃This　hypothetical　priestess　beat　the　House　weapons　master　as　if　he　were　a　thrall；　or　at　best；　the　least　useful　of　her　male　kin？　Doesn't　that　strike　you　as　odd？〃
〃Now　that　you　mention　it；　somewhat。〃
〃The　Jewel　Box　was　unusually　crowded　today　as　well。〃
Pharaun　noticed　a　blindfolded　orc　juggling　daggers　for　the　amusement　of　the　crowd　and　paused　for　a　moment　to　watch　the　show。　Ryld　heaved　a　sigh；　signaling　his　impatience　at　the　interruption　in　their　deliberations。
The　wizard　counted　five　sharp　knives；　which　the　slave's　scarred　hands　caught　and　tossed　with　flawless　accuracy。　A　laudable　performance；　even　if　it　lacked　a　certain　elan。　Pharaun　tossed　a　coin　to　the　orc's　owner；　then　strolled　on。　Ryld　tramped　along　beside　him。
〃So；〃　said　the　weapons　master；　〃Tathlyn　gets　a　thrashing；　the　brothel　enjoys　a　glut　of　patrons；　and　you　see　a　connection。　What？〃
〃What　if　all　those　boys　endured　a　beating；　or　at　least　some　sort　of　unpleasantness；　at　the　hands　of　their　female　relations？　What　if　that's　the　reason　they　flocked　to　their　sad　little　sanctuary；　to　lie　low；　lick　their　wounds；　and　kick　around　one　of　Nym's　captives　in　their　turn？〃
Ryld　frowned；　pondering　the　notion。　〃You're　guessing　that　priestesses　in　a　diversity　of　Houses　have　grown　more　harsh　and　unreasonable。　Obviously；　that　could　provoke　a　spate　of　runaway　males；　but　what　could　make　the　dispositions　of　all　those　priestesses　curdle　in　unison？〃
〃I　have　a　hunch　that　when　we　figure　that　out；　we'll　be　getting　somewhere。〃
The　two　masters　circled　around　a　colossal　snail　pulling　a　dozenwheeled　cart。　The　creature's　mouth　opened　into　an　O　and　Pharaun—who　had　once　only　narrowly　survived　an　encounter　with　such　a　giant　mollusk　in　the　wild—nearly　sacrificed　his　dignity　by　flinching；　even　though　he　knew　this　particular　specimen　had　undoubtedly　been　divested　of　its　ability　to　spew　a　caustic　sludge。　Sure　enough；　nothing　flew　from　the　draft　creature's　maw　except　a　few　clear；　harmless　droplets。　The　Wagoner　lashed　the　hostile　snail　with　his　longhandled　whip。
〃What　did　you　learn　downstairs？〃　asked　Ryld。
〃Nothing；　really；〃　said　Pharaun；　〃nothing　we　hadn't　already　inferred。　Still；　I　was　able　to　oblige　an　old　rade。　That　was　pleasant　in　its　own　way。〃
〃If　neither　of　us　discovered　anything　substantial；　our　visit　to　the　Jewel　Box　was　a　waste　of　time。〃
〃Not　a　bit　of　it。　The　bloodshed　perked　you　up；　didn't　it？　You've　pretty　much　been　smiling　ever　since。〃
〃Don't　be　ridiculous。　I　admit　it　was　an　interesting　little　scuffle　。　。　。〃
Ryld　began　to　recount　the　battle　one　action　at　a　time；　with　prehensive　analysis　of　the　alternative　options　and　underlying　strategy。　Pharaun　nodded　and　did　his　best　to　look　interested。
　
Triel；　Matron　Mother　of　House　Baenre　and　a　diminutive　ebony　doll　of　a　dark　elf；　marched　briskly　down　the　corridor；　covering　ground　rapidly　despite　her　short　stride。　Eight　feet　tall；　his　two　goat　like　legs　more　nimble　even　than　most　drow's；　Jeggred　had　no　difficulty　keeping　up　with　his　mother。　The　scurrying；　frazzled　drow　secretary；　though；　looked　as　if　she　was　in　imminent　danger　of　dropping　her　armload　of　parchment。　When　Triel　heard　voices　conversing　a　few　yards　ahead；　she　wanted　to　move　faster　still。　Only　a　sense　that　a　female　in　her　august　position　ought　not　to　promise　her　dignity　by　running　held　the　impulse　in　check。
〃I　think　it's　a　test；〃　said　one　soft　female　voice。
〃I　worry　it's　a　sign　of　disfavor；〃　answered　the　other；　a　hair　deeper　and　a　bit　nasal。　〃Perhaps　we've　done　something　to　offend—〃
Triel　and　her　panions　rounded　a　corner。　There　before　them　loitered　a　pair　of　her　cousins。　Their　mouths　fell　open　when　they　saw　her。
Triel　looked　up　at　her　son's　face；　which；　with　its　slightly　elongated　muzzle；　mouthful　of　long；　pointed　fangs；　slanted　eyes；　and　pointed　ears；　seemed　a　blend　of　drow　and　wolf。　That　wordless　glance　sufficed　to　convey　her　will。
Jeggred　pounced；　his　long；　coarse　mane　streaming　out　behind　him。　With　each　of　his　huge；　clawed　fighting　hands；　he　grabbed　a　cousin　by　the　throat　and　hoisted　her　up　against　the　calcite　wall。　His　two　smaller；　drowlike　hands　flexed　as　if　they　too　wished　to　get　in　on　the　violence。
Perhaps　they　did。
Triel　had　conceived　a　child　in　a　ritual　coupling　with　the　glabrezu　demon　Belshazu。　The　result　was　Jeggred；　a　halffiend　known　as　a　draegloth；　a　precious　gift　of　the　Spider　Queen。　His　mother　was　quite　prepared　to　believe　that　cruelty　and　bloodlust　burned　in　every　mote　and　particle　of　his　being。　Only　his　reflexive　subservience；　tendered　not　because　Triel　had　borne　him　but　because　she　was　first　among　the　priestesses　of　Lolth；　kept　him　from　immediately　slaughtering　his　prisoners；　or；　indeed；　pretty　much　anyone　else　with　whom　he　came　in　contact。
Occasionally　Triel's　lack　of　height　was　an　advantage。　It　didn't　feel　awkward　or　claustrophobic　to　step　inside　the　circle　of　Jeggred's　two　longer　arms　and　stand　before　the　cousins。　Up　close；　she　could　smell　the　sweat　of　their　fear　just　as　easily　as　she　could　hear　the　little　choking　sounds　they　were　making　or　the　thuds　as　their　heels　bumped　against　the　carved　surface　behind　them。
〃I　forbade　you　to　speak　of　the　situation　in　public；〃　she　snarled。
The　cousin　on　the　left　started　making　more　noise；　a　tortured　gargling。　Perhaps　she　was　trying　to　say　that　she　and　the　other　one　had　been　alone。
〃This　is　a　public　part　of　the　castle；〃　Triel　said。　〃Anyone；　any　male　might　have　e　along　and　overheard　you。〃　She　swung　her　whip　of　fangs；　aiming　low　to　ensure　she　didn't　accidentally　lash　Jeggred's　hands　or　arms。　The　five　writhing　adders　gashed　their　targets　but　not　enough　to　satisfy　their　mistress。　She　struck　again　and　again。　Her　anger　rose　and　rose　until　it　became　a　kind　of　rapture；　a　sweet　simplicity　in　which　nothing　existed　but　the　cousins'　thrashing；　the　smell　and　feel　of　their　blood　spattering　her　face；　and　the　pleasant　exertion　of　her　snapping　arm。
She　never　knew　what　brought　her　out　of　that　joyous　condition。　Perhaps　it　was　simply　that　she　was　winded；　but　when　she　came　to　her　senses；　the　two　babblers　were　dangling　limp　and　silent　in　Jeggred's　grip。
Both　the　draegloth　and　the　scribe　were　smiling。　They'd　thoroughly　enjoyed　the　cousins'　excruciating　torture；　but　there　were　things　still　to　be　done；　and　she'd　wasted　time　losing　her　temper。
Which　was　bad。　Matron　Mother　Baenre；　de　facto　ruler　of　the　entire　city　of　Menzoberranzan；　should　be　able　to　govern　herself　as　well。
Triel's　emotional　volatility　was　of　paratively　recent　origin。　She'd　been　calm　and　petent　all　the　while　she　served　as　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith。　That　role；　arguably　second　only　to　her　mother's　in　prestige；　had　suited　her　well；　and　she'd　never　aspired　to　anything　more。
Nor　had　she　truly　believed　that　more　was　even　possible。　Her　mother　seemed　immortal。　Indestructible。　But　then；　suddenly；　she　was　gone；　and　the　ambition　that　at　one　time　or　another　goaded　every　dark　elf　awoke　in　Triel's　breast。　How　could　she　not　strive　to　ascend　to　her　mother's　throne？　How　could　she　let　Quenthel　or　one　of　her　other　kin　climb　over　her　head　to　order　her　about　forever　after？
She　managed　to　claim　the　title　of　Matron　Mother；　and　though　she　soon　came　to　feel　somewhat　overwhelmed　by　the　scope　and　intricacies　of　the　position；　at　first　it　wasn't　so　bad。　Things　were　relatively　normal　and　didn't　require　some　dramatic　intervention　from　on　high　to　set　them　right。
Moreover；　she　had　Quenthel　and　Gromph　to　advise　her。　True；　her　sister　and　brother　invariably　disagreed；　but　Triel　could　review　their　peting　proposals　and　pick　the　one　that　suited　her。　It　was　considerably　easier　than　having　to　e　up　with　the　ideas　herself。
But　she　had　a　crisis　to　manage；　perhaps　the　greatest　crisis　in　the　long　history　of　the　dark　elves；　and　apparently　she　would　have　to　do　it　alone。　She　obviously　couldn't　confide　in　Gromph；　and　insolent　Quenthel　claimed　she　had　to　attend　to　the　security　of　Tier　Breche　before　she　could　focus　on　anything　else。
Triel　gave　her　head　a　shake；　trying　to　dislodge　her　doubts　and　worries。
〃Let　them　down