蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第9部分

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and　blended　to　the　faint　drone　he　and　Ryld　had　heard　while　sitting　on　the　brink　of　Tier　Breche。
In　the　Bazaar；　several　of　the　magical　buffers　operated　in　close　proximity　to　one　another。　To　newers；　the　effect　could　be　a　little　disconcerting　as　a　single　step　sufficed　to　carry　them　from　whispering　quiet　to　raucous　noise；　the　full　volume　of　an　auctioneer's　shout　or　a　piper's　skirling。
Happily；　no　such　enchantments　existed　to　suppress　the　smells　of　the　marketplace；　a　glorious　olfactory　tapestry　redolent　of　spice；　exotic　produce　imported　from　the　surface　world　and；　alas；　a　little　past　its　prime；　mulled　wine；　leather；　burned　frying　oil；　rothe　dung；　freshly　spilled　blood；　and　a　thousand　other　things。　Pharaun　closed　his　eyes　and　breathed　in　the　scent。
〃This　is　always　grand；　isn't　it？〃
〃I　suppose；〃　answered　Ryld。
For　his　excursion　away　from　Tier　Breche；　Ryld　had　tossed　a　piwafwi　around　his　burly　shoulders。　The　cloak　covered　his　dwarfmade　armor　and　short　sword；　and　its　cowl　obscured　his　features；　but　no　garment　could　have　hidden　the　enormous　weapon　sheathed　across　his　back。　Ryld　called　the　great　sword　Splitter；　and　while　Pharaun　deplored　the　name　as　ugly　and　prosaic；　he　had　to　admit　that　it　was　apt。　In　his　friend's　capable　hands；　the　enchanted　weapon　could　with　a　single　swing　cleave　almost　anything　in　two。
Ryld　looked　entirely　relaxed；　but　the　wizard　knew　the　appearance　was　in　one　sense　deceptive。　The　Master　of　MeleeMagthere　was　reflexively　scrutinizing　their　surroundings　for　signs　of　danger　with　a　facility　that　even　Pharaun；　who　regarded　himself　as　considerably　more　observant　than　most；　could　never　match。
〃You　suppose；〃　Pharaun　repeated。　〃Is　that　just　your　usual　glumness　speaking；　or　do　you　find　something　lacking？〃
〃I　do；〃　said　Ryld。　He　waved　his　hand　in　a　gesture　that　took　in　the　diverse　throng；　the　stalls；　and　the　maze　of　paths　snaking　among　them。　〃I　think　the　Bazaar　could　use　some　order。〃
Pharaun　grinned　and　said；　〃Careful；　or　I'll　have　to　report　you　for　blasphemy。　It's　chaos　that　made　us；　and　made　us　what　we　are。〃
〃Right。　Chaos　is　life。　Chaos　is　creativity。　Chaos　makes　us　strong。　I　remember　the　creed；　but　as　a　practical　matter；　don't　you　see　that　all　this　confusion　could　serve　as　a　mask　for　the　city's　enemies？　They　could　use　it　to　smuggle　their　spies　and　assassins　in　and　to　smuggle　stolen　secrets　and　treasure　out。〃
〃I'm　sure　they　do。　That's　certainly　the　way　our　agents　operate　in　marketplaces　elsewhere　in　the　Underdark。〃
An　orc　female　came　scurrying　through　the　crowd　with　her　head　down　and　a　parchment　clutched　in　her　hand。　Perhaps　her　master　had　threatened　her　with　a　whipping　if　she　didn't　deliver　a　message　quickly。　She　tried　to　dodge　through　the　narrow　space　between　Pharaun　and　another　pedestrian；　misstepped；　and　bumped　into　the　wizard。
The　pigfaced　slave　looked　up　and　saw　that　she'd　just　jostled　an　elegantly　and　expensively　dressed　dark　elf。　Her　mouth　with　its　prominent　lower　canines　fell　open　in　terror。　With　a　flick　of　his　fingers；　Pharaun　bade　her　begone。　She　turned　and　ran。
〃Then　the　Council　should　control　the　Bazaar　properly；〃　said　Ryld。　〃Don't　just　send　the　occasional　patrol　marching　through　to　discourage　thievery。　License　the　merchants。　Conduct　routine　searches　of　their　pack　animals；　tents；　and　kiosks。〃
〃From　what　I　understand；〃　said　Pharaun；　〃it's　been　tried；　and　every　time　it　was；　the　Bazaar　became　less　profitable　and　wound　up　pouring　fewer　coins　into　the　coffers　of　the　matron　mothers。　I　daresay　the　same　thing　would　happen　today。　Regulation　would　also　inconvenience　all　the　Houses　who　are　themselves　running　illicit　operations　hereabouts。　I　assure　you；　a　goodly　number　of　them　do。〃
Pharaun　should　know。　Before　his　exile　from　his　own　family；　he　and　Sabal　had　played　a　substantial　role　in　House　Mizzrym's　covert　and　highly　illegal　trade　with　the　deep　gnomes；　or　svirfneblin；　arguably　the　deadliest　of　the　dark　elves'　many　foes。
〃If　you　say　so；〃　said　Ryld。　〃Not　being　a　noble；　I　wouldn't　know　about　things　like　that。〃
The　wizard　sighed。　It　was　true；　his　friend　was　about　as　humbly　born　as　a　dark　elf　could　be；　but　during　his　climb　to　his　present　eminence；　he　had　perforce　bee　fully　acquainted　with　the　ways　of　the　aristocracy。　It　was　just　that　at　odd　moments　he　took　an　obscure　satisfaction　in　pretending　to　a　peasant　like　ignorance。
〃Well；　I　rejoice　that　you　remain　so　close　to　your　roots；〃　Pharaun　said。　〃I'm　counting　on　your　familiarity　with　the　slums　to　see　me　safely　through　my　encounters　with　the　lower　orders。〃
〃I've　been　wondering　when　that's　going　to　happen。　Shouldn't　we　have　gone　to　Eastmyr　or　the　Braeryn　straightaway？〃
〃No　point　going　there　blind　if　we　can　acquire　some　intelligence　first。〃
Pharaun　supposed　that　in　fact；　they'd　better　collect　it　quickly；　but　it　was　a　pity。　He　could　have　used　some　idle　time　drifting　through　emporia　like；　for　instance；　Daelein　Shimmerdark's　Decanter　with　its　astonishing　collection　of　wines；　liquors；　and；　for　those　who　knew　how　to　ask；　potions　and　poisons　from　all　over　the　world。　Perhaps　it　would　clear　his　head。
Or　maybe　it　would　only　give　him　another　enigma　to　ponder；　for　though　there　was　still　plenty　to　buy；　it　seemed　to　him　the　Bazaar　as　a　whole　was　offering　fewer　goods　than　usual。　Why　was　that？　Could　it　possibly　have　anything　to　do　with　the　runaway　males？
And　what　about　the　demon　spider　that　had　materialized　above　him　and　Ryld　on　the　plateau　and　proceeded　to　break　into　ArachTinilith？　Did　that　tie　in；　or　was　it　simply　a　gambit　in　one　of　Menzoberranzan's　innumerable　secret　feuds　that　had　nothing　at　all　to　do　with　his　concerns？
He　had　to　grin。　He　knew　so　little；　and　what　little　he　had　gleaned　was　scarcely　a　source　of　reassurance。
〃There　it　is；〃　said　Ryld。
〃Indeed。〃
Carved　from　a　long；　relatively　low　protrusion　of　stone；　the　Jewel　Box　sat　just　inches　beyond　what　custom　decreed　to　be　the　limits　of　the　Bazaar；　where　all　traders　were　required　to　shift　their　stalls　to　a　different　spot　every　sixtysix　days。　Despite　its　lack　of　a　signboard　or　other　external　advertisement；　the　establishment　had　always　attracted　a　steady　trickle　of　shoppers　and　merchants；　and　when　the　two　masters　descended　the　stair　that　ran　from　street　level　to　the　limestone　door；　Pharaun　could　hear　considerably　more　sounds　of　revelry　that　usual。　There　was　laughter；　animated　conversation；　and　a　longhorn；　yarting；　and　handdrum　trio　playing　a　lively　tune。　The　third　string　of　the　yarting　was　a　little　flat。
Ryld　knocked　with　the　brass　knocker；　whereupon　a　little　panel　slid　open　in　the　center　of　the　door。　A　pair　of　eyes　peered　out；　then　disappeared。　The　portal　swung　open。
Pharaun　grinned。　In　all　his　visits　there；　he　had　never　seen　anyone　turned　away；　and　he　suspected　the　business　with　the　peephole　was　just　an　agreeable　bit　of　nonsense　intended　to　make　a　visit　to　the　Jewel　Box　seem　even　more　piquantly　criminal。　Perhaps　the　doorman　actually　would　attempt　to　dissuade　a　female　if　one　had　sought　admittance。
The　lowceilinged　room　beyond　the　threshold　smelled　of　a　sweet　and　mildly　intoxicating　incense。　The　three　musicians　had　crowded　themselves　onto　a　tiny　platform　against　the　west　wall。　A　few　of　the　patrons　were　attending　to　the　performance；　but　most　had　elected　to　focus　on　other　pleasures。　At　one　table；　half　a　dozen　disheveled　fellows　tossed　back　their　liquor　simultaneously　in　what　appeared　to　be　a　drinking　contest。　Other　males　threw　daggers　at　the　target　on　the　wall　with　a　blithe　disregard　for　the　safety　of　those　standing　in　the　immediate　vicinity　of　their　mark。　Dice　clattered；　cards　rustled　and　slapped；　and　coins　scraped　across　tabletops　as　the　luckier　gamblers　raked　in　their　winnings。
Ryld　studied　his　surroundings　with　his　customary　unobtrusive　vigilance；　surreptitiously　cataloging　every　potential　threat。　Still；　Pharaun　was　amused　to　see　that　his　friend's　eyes　lingered　on　the　webshaped　sava　boards　for　an　instant；　which　was　likely　all　the　time　he　required　to　analyze　the　four　contests　in　progress。
Sava　was　an　intricate　game　representing　a　war　between　two　noble　Houses—at　least　that　was　what　it　currently　represented。　Pharaun　had　seen　an　antique　set　that　recapitulated　in　miniature　the　drow's　eternal　struggle　with　another　race；　but　such　pieces　had　gone　out　of　fashion　long　before　his　birth；　probably　because　no　player　had　wanted　to　be　the　dwarves。
With　its　grid　like　board　regulating　movement　and　its　playing　pieces　of　varying　capacities；　sava　resembled　games　devised　by　many　cultures；　but　celebrating　the　chaos　in　their　blood　the　drow　had　found　a　way　to　introduce　an　element　of　randomness　into　what　would　otherwise　unfold　with　a　mechanical　precision。　Once　per　game；　each　player　could　fo　his　normal　move　to　throw　the　sava　dice。　If　the　spider　came　up　on　each；　he　could　move　one　of　his　opponent's　pieces　to　eliminate　any　man　of　its　own　color　within　its　normal　reach；　a　rule　that　acknowledged　the　dark　elves'　propensity　for　doing　down　their　kin　even　in　the　face　of　a　serious　external　threat。
Pharaun；　who　privately　considered　himself　cleverer　than　Ryld；　had　always　been　a　little　chagrinned　that　he　couldn't　defeat　the　weapons　master　at　sava；　but　alas；　his　friend　wielded　mother；　priestess；　wizard；　warrior；　orc　slave　soldier；　and　dice　as　brilliantly　as　he　did　a　sword。　Indeed；　he　claimed　that　fighting　and　sava　were　the　same　thing；　though　Pharaun　had　never　quite　understood　what　the　assertion　meant。
The　wizard　clapped　Ryld　on　the　shoulder　and　said；　〃Play。　Amuse　yourself。　Win　their　gold。　Just　remember　to　make　conversation　while　you're　at　it。　See　what　you　can　learn。　Meanwhile；　I'll　try　my　luck　in　the　cellar。〃
Ryld　nodded。
Pharaun　navigated　his　way　across　the　crowded　room　to　the　bar。　Behind　it　on　a　stool　sat　wizened；　onelegged　Nym；　an　elderly　male　who　for　sheer　surly；　unwavering　misanthropy　rivaled　any　demon　the　Master　of　Sorcere　had　ever　conjured。　The　old　retired　battle　mage　was　happily　engaged　in　snarling　threats；　obscenities；　and　orders　at　the　goblin　thralls　pouring　drinks；　but　he　grudgingly　suspended　the　harassment　long　enough　to　accept　a　handful　of　gold。　In　return；　he　tendered　a　worn；　numbered　leather　tab　with　several　keys　attached。
Thus　equipped；　Pharaun　walked　through　the　arch　beside　the　bar　and　down　another　flight　of　steps。　At　the　bottom　waited　the　real　business　of　the　Jewel　Box　and　the　reason　Nym　had　not　seen　fit　to　hang　a　placard　outside。
In　Menzoberranzan；　where　a　goddess　and　her　priestesses　reigned　supreme；　few　female　dark　elves　ever　found　it　necessary　to　sell　their　bodies。　Only　a　handful　of　the　sick　and　infirm；　dwelling　in　the　most　abject　need；　had　ever　stooped　to　such　a　degradation。　Accordingly；　one　might　assume　that　any　male　wishing　to　purchase　intimate　panionship　would　find　his　choice　limited　to　these　rare　unappealing　specimens　or　the　females　of　one　of　the　inferior　species。
But　that　wasn't　quite　the　case；　at　least　not　if　a　male　had　a　heavy　purse。　The　reason　was　that；　while　they　generally　devoted　their　military　efforts　to　fighting　cloakers；　svirfneblin；　and　other　peting　civilizations　of　the　Underdark；　drow　cities　on　rare　occasions　waged　war　on　one　another。　Once　in　a　while；　such　conflicts　yielded　female　prisoners。
The　prudent；　legitimate　thing　to　do　with　such　potentially　dangerous　captives　was　interrogate；　torture；　and　kill　them。　That　fact　notwithstanding；　Nym　had　on　several　occasions　managed　to　bribe　officers　to　give　him　their　prisoners；　whom　he　then