蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第61部分

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t　was　suicide　to　travel　the　subterranean　wilderness　alone。
Sadly；　thanks　to　the　cursed　goblin　rebellion；　she　had　little　choice。　Because　of　the　desperate　fighting　all　across　the　city；　the　clergy's　incapacity　was　no　great　secret　anymore。　Certainly　Gromph　had　discerned　it；　which　meant　Triel　no　longer　had　anything　to　hide　from　him。　Surely；　then；　she　would　seek　his　counsel　once　more。
Waerva　had　been　confident　she　could　manipulate　the　frazzled　matron　mother；　but　she　very　much　doubted　she　could　fool　the　canny　archmage。　Accordingly；　she'd　cleared　out　of　the　Great　Mound　and　Menzoberranzan　itself　before　her　kinsman　could　start　asking　questions；　and　there　she　was；　a　solitary　wayfarer　hiking　through　a　perilous　wilderness。
But　she　was　strong　and　cunning；　and　she'd　survive。　She'd　make　her　way　to　her　secret　allies；　and　everything　would　be　all　right。
She　took　four　more　strides；　then　heard　another　little　sound；　and　this　one　wasn't　falling　water。　It　sounded　more　like　a　stealthy　footstep　brushing　stone；　and　it　came　from　behind　her。
She　whirled　and　saw　no　one；　then　something　stung　her　arm。　She　pivoted。　At　her　feet　lay　the　pebble　someone　had　thrown。　Soft；　sibilant　laughter　rippled　through　the　air。　From　the　sound　of　it；　the　merrymakers　were　all　around　her。
Why；　then；　couldn't　she　see　them？
Adamantine　mace　at　the　ready；　one　wing　of　her　piwafwi　tossed　back　to　facilitate　the　action　of　her　weapon　arm；　Waerva　advanced　in　the　direction　from　which　the　rock　had　e。　Weaving　her　way　through　the　stalagmites；　she　reached　the　cavern　wall　without　so　much　as　glimpsing　her　attacker。　She　caught　a　whiff　of　a　familiar　reptilian　musk；　though；　and　she　knew。
Kobolds。　The　horned；　scaly　undercreatures　were　small　enough　that　it　was　relatively　easy　for　them　to　hide　amid　the　calcite　bumps　and　spikes。
She　turned　once　more；　and　despite　herself；　gave　a　start。　Evidently　the　kobolds　lacked　the　patience　to　play　their　skulking　game　for　very　long；　because　they　were　done　hiding。　While　her　back　was　turned；　they'd　crept　out　into　the　open　and　there　formed　a　ragged　Cshaped　line　to　pen　her　against　the　wall。
The　brutes　were　Menzoberranyr　thralls。　House　brands　and　whip　scars　gave　that　fact　away。　Indeed；　a　couple　still　wore　broken　shackles。　Waerva　plainly　wasn't　the　only　one　who'd　fled　the　city。
She　glared　at　the　kobolds　and　said；　〃I'm　a　Baenre。　You　know　what　that　means。　Make　way；　or　I'll　strike　you　dead。〃
The　undercreatures　stared　back　at　her　for　a　moment；　then　lowered　their　eyes。　The　line　broke　in　the　middle；　making　an　exit。
Sneering；　head　held　high；　Waerva　started　for　the　opening。　For　a　moment；　all　was　silent；　then　the　reptiles　laughed；　screeched；　and　rushed　her。
Bellowing　a　battle　cry；　she　swung　her　mace；　and　every　stroke　smashed　the　life　from　a　thrall。　But　for　every　one　she　killed；　there　were　dozens　more　hacking　and　beating　at　her　legs。
Her　knee　screamed　with　pain；　and　she　fell。　The　kobolds　swarmed　over　her　and　pounded　her　until　she　just　couldn't　struggle　any　more。
With　some　difficulty；　they　divested　her　of　her　armor　and　clothing；　and　went　to　work　on　her。　Amazingly　for　such　a　bestial　race；　they　seemed　to　understand　anatomy　as　thoroughly　as　her　dear　Tluth；　but　their　ministrations　were　nothing　like　massage。
Faeryl　had　learned　to　court　unconsciousness。　It　brought　surcease　from　the　lingering　pains　of　past　tortures。　Unfortunately；　it　couldn't　avert　new　ones。　When　Jeggred　found　her　so；　he　simply　waved　a　bottle　of　pungent　smelling　salts　beneath　her　nose　until　it　jolted　her　awake。
She　could　hear　him　ing。　So　could　the　jailers；　who　scurried　to　the　back　of　the　dungeon　to　give　him　privacy。　Shivering；　she　struggled　to　pose　herself。　Perhaps　she　could　deny　him　the　satisfaction　of　a　scream—at　least　for　a　while—or　even　provoke　him　into　killing　her。　That　would　be　wonderful。
The　draegloth　appeared　in　the　doorway；　stooping　to　pass　through。　Despite　herself；　Faeryl　flinched；　then　saw　he　was　not　alone。　Dainty　little　Triel　acpanied　him。　So　did　her　harshfeatured　brother；　clad　as　usual　in　the　Robes　of　the　Archmage。
〃My　。　。　。　salutations；　Matron；〃　the　Zauvirr　croaked。
〃Hush；〃　said　Gromph；　〃and　all　will　be　well。〃　He　looked　up　at　the　glowering　halfdemon。　〃Free　her；　and　be　gentle　about　it。〃
Jeggred　strode　to　Faeryl。　This　time；　she　managed　not　to　cringe。　The　draegloth　supported　her　weight　with　his　smaller　hands　while　cutting　her　bonds　with　the　claws　of　the　larger　ones；　then　scooped　her　up　in　his　arms。　She　passed　out。
Next　came　a　blur　of　hours　or　days；　during　which　she　would　wake　for　a　few　muddled　seconds；　then　lapse　into　unconsciousness　again。　She　lay　on　a　soft　divan；　where　servants　salved　and　bandaged　her　wounds　and　sometimes　spooned　broth　into　her　mouth。　Priestesses　read　scrolls　of　healing；　and　Gromph　appeared　periodically　to　cast　his　own　spells　over　her。　She　noticed　Mother's　Kiss　lying　on　a　little　table　beside　her；　and　when　she　felt　strong　enough；　stretched　out　her　trembling　arm　and　touched　it。
Finally　she　opened　her　eyes　to　find　her　thoughts　clear　and　vitality　tingling　in　her　limbs。　The　servants　helped　her　don　new　raiment。　They　said　it　was　for　a　meeting　with　Triel。
Faeryl　considered　taking　her　war　hammer　along；　then　thought　better　of　it。　If　her　rehabilitation　was　an　elaborate　prank；　if　the　Baenre　was　summoning　her　to　further　torment；　the　weapon　wouldn't　save　her。
Her　legs　still　the　least　bit　unsteady；　she　followed　a　male　through　the　endless　corridors　of　the　Great　Mound。　Eventually　he　opened　the　door　to　a　small　but　lavishly　decorated　room。
Triel　sat　at　the　table　in　the　center　of　the　space；　with　two　bodyguards　standing　against　the　wall　behind　her。　Faeryl　inferred　that　this　was　a　chamber　the　matron　used　when　she　wished　to　palaver　away　from　the　formal　trappings　of　her　court。
The　Baenre　rose　and　took　her　prisoner's　hands。
〃My　child；〃　Triel　said；　〃I　rejoice　to　see　you。　Some　folk　said　you　wouldn't　recover；　but　I　never　doubted　it。　I　knew　you　were　strong；　a　true　drow　princess　favored　of　Lolth。〃
〃Thank　you；　Matron；〃　said　Faeryl；　thoroughly　perplexed。
Triel　conducted　her　a　chair。
〃You'll　be　glad　to　know　we　caught　them；〃　the　matron　said。
〃Them？〃
〃The　brigands　who　waylaid　you　and　murdered　your　followers；　who　left　you　for　dead　in　that　place　where　my　servant　Valas　found　you。　I　supervised　the　executions　myself。〃
Faeryl　was　beginning　to　prehend　her　situation。　For　some　reason；　Triel　had　fiven　her　her　disobedience。　The　Zauvirr　could　go　free；　her　honor　and　rank　restored；　but　there　was　a　catch。　Henceforth；　she　would　have　to　endorse　the　fiction　that　Triel　was　in　no　way　responsible　for　any　of　her　misfortunes。　For　after　all；　the　sovereign　of　Menzoberranzan　was　a　perfect　being；　whom　the　Spider　Queen　herself　had　exalted　above　all　others。　How；　then；　could　she　possibly　make　a　mistake？　It　rankled　a　little；　but　Faeryl　was　more　than　willing　to　embrace　the　lie　to　avoid　a　return　to　the　dungeon。
〃Thank　you；　Matron；〃　she　said。　〃Thank　you　with　all　my　heart。〃　Triel　waved　her　hand；　and　a　servant　brought　wine。　〃Do　you　still　want　to　go　home？〃　the　Baenre　asked。
Pharaun　had　been　summoned　to　a　good　many　audiences　in　the　course　of　his　checkered　career；　and　it　had　been　his　experience　that　no　matter　how　urgent　the　occasion；　one　generally　wound　up　parked　in　an　antechamber　for　a　while。　Matron　Baenre's　waiting　area　was　considerably　more　lavish　than　most；　and　in　ordinary　circumstances；　he　would　have　amused　himself　by　passing　esthetic　judgment　on　the　decor。　Instead　he　had　to　address　another　matter；　for　when　he　arrived；　Ryld　was　sitting　on　a　chair　in　the　corner；　half　hidden　behind　a　marble　statue。
The　carving　depicted　a　beautiful　female　doing　something　unpleasant　to　a　deep　gnome；　for　the　greater　glory　of　the　Dread　Queen　of　Spiders；　one　assumed。
The　Mizzrym　hadn't　spoken　to　his　friend　since　the　slaughter　of　the　renegades。　He　supposed　the　time　had　e。　But　first　he　paid　his　respects　to　Quenthel；　who；　much　to　her　annoyance；　was　being　kept　waiting　as　well。　The　mage　then　bowed　to　a　sternfaced　drow　male；　looking　ill　at　ease　and　out　of　place　in　rough　outdoorsman's　clothes　and　ugly　trinkets。　Pharaun　didn't　know　him。
〃Valas　Hune；〃　the　warrior　said；　〃of　Bregan　D'aerthe。〃
Pharaun　introduced　himself；　then　strolled　toward　the　Master　of　MeleeMagthere。
〃Ryld　Have　you　any　idea　why　the　Council　summoned　us？〃
The　burly　swordsman　rose　and　said；　〃No。〃
〃To　shower　us　with　honors；　one　assumes。　How　are　you？〃
〃Alive。〃
〃I　rejoice　to　hear　it。　I　was　concerned　because　I　could　tell　that　warrior's　trance　strained　even　your　constitution。〃
For　a　moment；　the　two　masters　regarded　one　another　in　silence。
〃My　friend；〃　Pharaun　said；　having　lowered　his　voice。　〃I　truly　regret　what　happened。〃
〃What　you　did　was　tactically　sound；〃　said　Ryld。　〃It　was　what　any　sensible　drow　would　have　done。　1　hold　no　grudge。〃
The　wizard　looked　into　weapons　master's　eyes　and　realized　that　for　the　first　time；　he　couldn't　read　him。
Perhaps　Ryld　meant　what　he　was　saying；　but　it　was　just　as　likely　he　was　lying；　lulling　his　betrayer's　suspicions　to　facilitate　some　eventual　revenge。　Thus；　while　Pharaun　might　continue　to　observe　the　forms　of　their　long　friendship；　he　could　never　trust　his　fellow　master　again。
For　a　moment　he　felt　a　pang　of　loss；　but　he　quashed　the　sensation。　Friendship　and　trust　were　for　lesser　races。　They　weakened　a　dark　elf；　and　he　was　better　off　without　them。
Pharaun　gave　Ryld　an　affectionate　clap　on　the　shoulder；　just　as　he　had　a　thousand　times　before。
When　the　tall　doors　opened；　all　eight　Matrons　of　the　Council　sat　enthroned　and　illuminated　on　an　eighttiered　pyramid　of　a　dais；　with　Triel　of　course　set　higher　than　the　others；　and　a　span　of　radiant　marble　webbing　arching　overhead。　Quenthel　stalked　in　proudly；　ahead　of　Pharaun　and　the　other　males；　and　why　not？　She　was　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith　and　a　Baenre。
Truth　to　tell；　a　miniscule　part　of　her；　a　part　she　loathed　and　repudiated；　hadn't　wanted　to　e　in；　because　her　unknown　enemy　was　very　likely　in　the　room
The　matriarchs　weren't　the　only　folk　in　the　vicinity　of　the　platform。　A　symbol　of　the　goddess's　favor　and　a　source　of　practical　protection；　Jeggred　loomed　behind　Triel's　chair。　Servants　scurried　about　the　steps　to　do　the　great　ladies'　bidding。　Gromph　stood　on　the　highest　riser；　a　place　of　ultimate　honor　for　a　male。
When　she；　the　mage；　the　weapons　master；　and　the　mercenary　reached　the　foot　of　the　dais；　Triel　began　to　praise　them　for　their　efforts　against　the　illithilich　and　its　pawns。　At　first　the　oration　was　pretty　much　what　Quenthel　had　expected；　but　soon　it　took　an　unexpected　turn。
She　herself　would　lead　an　expedition　to　Ched　Nasad　to　find　out　why　no　travelers　came　from　that　direction；　and　what　the　priestesses　of　the　vassal　city　might　know　concerning　the　silence　of　Lolth。　Ryld　Argith；　Pharaun　Mizzrym；　and　Valas　Hune　would　serve　as　her　lieutenants；　acpanying　the　ambassador；　Faeryl　Zauvirr。
Upon　hearing　the　news；　the　hulking　warrior　in　the　dwarven　breastplate　simply　inclined　his　head　in　acquiescence。　The　wizard　grinned；　and　the　scout　smiled。　At　first　the　envoy；　who　was　standing　nearby；　looked　equally　pleased。
Then　Triel　said；　〃Finally；　dear　sister；　I　lend　you　my　own　son　Jeggred　for　your　journey。　A　draegloth　carries　the　blessing　of　the　Dark　Mother；　and　you　may　need　his　strength。〃
For　an　instant；　it　looked　as　if　Faeryl　would　protest；　and　Jeggred　leered　down　at　her。　Plainly；　something　had　once　transpired　between　them；　an　unple