蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第27部分

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〃And　they　e　for　me。　Because　one　of　my　mortal　enemies　sends　them　in　guises　intended　to　stimulate　your　imaginations。〃
〃What　enemy？〃　Molvayas　demanded。
〃That　has　yet　to　be　determined。〃
〃In　other　words；〃　said　Quenthel's　secondinmand；　〃you　don't　know　what's　going　on　any　more　than　we　do。〃
〃At　least　I　know　what　isn't　happening。〃
〃Do　you？　What　makes　your　one　opinion　superior　to　all　of　ours？〃
〃The　answer　to　that　is　readily　apparent　to　those　with　some　smattering　of　intelligence。〃
〃Insults　won't　resolve　this　matter；　Mistress；　but　I　can　think　of　a　test　that　might。　Step　down　for　a　year；　and　we'll　see　what　happens。〃
Quenthel　laughed。
〃Meekly　surrender　the　Academy　to　you；　Barrison　Del'Armgo？　Not　likely。　As　it　happens；　I　too　have　conceived　a　test　to　determine　who　truly　enjoys　Lolth's　favor；　your　sad　little　cabal　or　me。〃
〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Molvayas　asked；　wariness　in　her　eyes。
〃My　test　is　simplicity　itself。　We　simply　ask　Lolth　whom　she　prefers；　and　await　her　answer。〃
〃That's　insane。　The　Spider　Queen　no　longer　speaks　to　us。〃
〃Perhaps　if　we　petition；　she　will　at　least　condescend　to　give　us　a　sign。　Are　you　willing　to　try？〃
〃Perhaps；〃　Molvayas　said；　no　doubt　aware　that　with　blades　at　her　back；　she　actually　had　little　choice。　〃Do　you　propose　to　perform　some　sort　of　ritual？〃
〃As　we've　lost　our　magic；　what　would　that　acplish？　My　idea　is　simpler。　We　all　bide　in　this　room；　engaged　in　silent　prayer　and　meditation；　until　the　Dark　Mother　reveals　her　will。〃
Vlondril　snorted。　〃What　if　she　chooses　to　ignore　us？〃
Quenthel　shrugged。　〃I　don't　believe　she's　truly　abandoned　her　chosen　people　or　her　chosen　ministers。　My　faith　is　too　strong　to　credit　such　a　calamity。　How　strong　is　yours；　Barrison　Del'Armgo？〃
〃Strong　enough　that　I　have　no　fear　of　the　goddess　preferring　you　to　me；〃　Molvayas　spat　back。　〃I　just　don't　see　the　point　of　your　scheme。　Lolth　will　speak　when　she　wishes；　not　when　we　desire　it。〃
〃It's　not　a　waste　of　time　if　it's　keeping　you　alive。　I　could　have　had　my　loyal　followers　kill　you　the　moment　they　entered　the　chamber。　Instead；　I'm　proposing　an　honest　inquiry　into　your　concerns；　for　the　sake　of　all　the　temple。　Under　the　circumstances；　what　could　be　more　magnanimous　than　that？〃
〃All　right；〃　Molvayas　said。　〃We'll　remain　for　a　time；　but　if　nothing　happens；　my　rades　and　I　go　free。　You　can't　chastise　us　if　the　results　of　the　test　are　inconclusive。　That　wouldn't　be　an　honest　inquiry。〃
〃Agreed；〃　the　mistress　said。
Drisinil　was　bewildered　and　appalled。　This　strange；　passive　procedure　sounded　as　if　it　could　take　hours。　She　needed　the　antidote　before　her　thundering　heart　tore　itself　apart；　but　she　could　do　nothing　to　speed　things　along。
Though　plainly　just　as　puzzled　as　she；　the　pany　obediently　fell　quiet。　Meditation　was　a　familiar　practice　to　all　of　them；　though　frustrating　and　futile　since　Lolth　had　receded　beyond　their　ken。
For　what　seemed　a　long　while；　nothing　happened；　except　that　a　muscle　under　Drisinil's　eye　twitched　uncontrollably；　and　some　of　those　whom　she'd　betrayed　surreptitiously　glared　at　her；　wordlessly　vowing　revenge。　A　tiny　something　scurried　across　the　floor。　Or　perhaps　it　did。　By　the　time　she　tried　to　focus　on　it；　it　was　gone。
More　minutes　crawled　by。　Cloth　whispered　as　someone　shifted　position。　Later；　somebody　else　smothered　a　little　sneeze。　Drisinil　realized　she　could　just　barely　smell　the　ghost　of　the　funereal　incense　Lirdnolu　had　burned　when　teaching　necromancy。
Another　mite　scuttled　along。　Drisinil　saw　that　this　one　was　a　spider。　Nothing　unusual　in　that。　ArachTinilith　was　full　of　the　sacred　creatures。　Still；　something　about　this　particular　specimen　tugged　at　her　despite　her　sickness　and　terror。　She　stared　until　she　discerned　that　it　had　a　blue　shell　with　red　markings。
That　was　a　little　odd。　This　particular　species　generally　spent　its　time　lurking　in　webs；　not　roaming　about。　Still；　she　didn't　see　why　the　anomaly　should　trigger　a　twinge　of　alarm。　It　must　be　the　poison　clawing　at　her　nerves。
Time　dragged　on。　A　priestess　on　the　lowest　tier　sang　a　hymn　under　her　breath。　She　was　flat。　Another　novice　with　mutilated　hands　surreptitiously　checked　the　knife　strapped　under　her　sleeve；　making　sure　the　weapon　was　loose　in　the　sheath。　And；　Drisinil　noticed；　more　black　dots　were　creeping　on　the　walls　and　floor。　More　than　were　normal　for　a　disused　part　of　the　temple？　She　thought　so；　and　she　glanced　over　at　Quenthel；　seeking　some　sign　to　confirm　her　formless　suspicions。　The　Baenre　stood　motionless　with　head　bowed；　the　very　picture　of　a　mystic　absorbed　in　her　devotions。
A　novice　with　a　gold　earring　cried　out　in　pain。　She　dragged　on　her　shirt；　baring　her　right　shoulder；　and　found　the　spider　that　was　biting　her。　Her　frantic　efforts　to　remove　the　arachnid　without　hurting　it　should　have　been　ical　but　Drisinil　couldn't　laugh。　Frazzled；　addled　by　the　poison；　she　could　only　stare　at　the　dark　flecks　swarming　thickly　on　every　side。　Some　of　the　other　conspirators　had　started　to　notice　as　well。　They　whispered　to　one　another；　and　their　eyes　grew　wide。
Something　brushed　Drismil's　arm。　She　cried　out　and　spun　around。　It　was　one　of　the　Quenthel's　vipers　that　had　touched　her。
〃Stay　close；〃　the　mistress　said。
Once　again；　the　spiders　increased　in　number。　Somehow　hordes　of　them　were　scuttling　over　the　bodies　of　the　conspirators；　biting；　crawling　under　their　clothing；　freckling　their　skins　like　the　sores　of　some　hideous　plague。　Shrieking；　no　longer　caring　that　the　creatures　were　sacrosanct；　their　victims　struggled　to　crush　them　and　brush　them　off；　but　they　couldn't　get　them　all。　A　few　of　the　traitors　retained　the　presence　of　mind　to　activate　protective　talismans；　only　to　discover　that　the　magic　didn't　help；　either。
The　one　place　free　of　spiders　was　the　upper　tiers。　Once　they　realized　the　creatures　weren't　going　climb　up　and　attack　them；　the　loyalists　mocked　and　jeered　at　the　plight　of　the　traitors。　Whenever　one　of　the　plotters　tried　to　grope　her　way　into　their　safe　space；　a　loyalist　would　knock　her　back　with　a　casual　swat　from　a　mace　or　whip。　Some　even　shot　down　with　hand　crossbows　any　conspirator　who　attempted　to　stagger　for　the　door。
Drisinil　did　remain　at　Quenthel's　side；　and　the　spiders　crawled　over　her　feet　but　otherwise　took　no　notice　of　her。　They　didn't　avoid　the　Baenre；　however。　They　climbed　all　over　her　body　without　biting；　and；　laughing；　she　stooped；　picked　up　more；　and　poured　them　over　her　head　until　the　creatures　virtually　encrusted　her。　Her　bright　red　eyes　shone　from　a　pebbled；　squirming　mask。
Finally　the　shrieking　stopped；　uncovering　the　sound　of　Vlondril　ecstatically　chanting　one　of　the　litanies　as　the　spiders　destroyed　her。　After　another　moment；　that　noise　ceased　as　well。　Drisinil　noticed　her　aunt's　corpse　slumped　among　the　carnage；　though　she　only　recognized　it　by　the　jade　gown。　Molvayas's　face　was　swollen　and　bloodied　beyond　recognition。
Quenthel　gazed　up　at　the　living　and　called；　〃We　asked　Lolth　for　a　sign；　and　she　gave　us　one。　My　foes　are　dead　and　I　remain；　robed　in　the　goddess's　sacred　spiders。　I　am　the　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith；　and　my　minions　will　question　my　leadership　no　more　or　else　die　in　agony　for　their　effrontery。〃
The　surviving　priestesses　and　novices　hastily　paid　her　obeisance。
〃Good；〃　the　Baenre　said。　〃You　are　wise；　and　so　I　make　you　a　vow。　We　will　put　an　end　to　these　nightly　attacks。　We　will　regain　our　magic。　We　will　hear　Lolth's　voice　again。　We　will　make　our　order　and　our　temple　greater　than　ever　before。　Now；　clear　away　this　mess。〃
The　spiders　began　to　disappear；　from　the　room　and　Quenthel's　person　as　well。　Drisinil　couldn't　quite　tell　if　they　were　simply　scuttling　away　or　teleporting　out。
〃I　did　it；〃　the　student　said。　〃I　brought　the　traitors　together　for　you。　Now；　please　give　me　the　antidote。〃
Quenthel　smiled　and　said；　〃There　is　none。〃
〃What？〃
〃I　didn't　poison　you。　The　liquid　was　simply　a　stimulant　to　bat　drowsiness。　I　gave　you　enough　to　make　the　effect　alarming；　but　it'll　wear　off。〃
〃You're　lying〃
〃I　would　have　administered　a　slow　poison　had　I　been　carrying　one；　but　as　I　was　not；　I　had　to　improvise。〃
Drisinil　felt　a　surge　of　bitter　humiliation　and　a　need　to　demonstrate　she　wasn't　entirely　a　fool。
〃Well；〃　she　blurted；　〃then；　you've　tricked　everyone　all　the　way　around。　I　know　Lolth　didn't　control　those　spiders。　You　did。　You　read　a　scroll　or　used　some　sort　of　charm　before　you　entered　the　room。〃
〃If　so；　does　it　matter？〃　A　yellow　arachnid　crawled　out　of　Quenthel's　snowy　hair　and　onto　her　shoulder。　She　paid　it　no　mind。　〃Lolth　teaches　that　the　cunning　and　strong　must　master　the　foolish　and　weak。　However　you　look　at　it；　this　oute　is　in　accordance　with　her　will。　Now；　let's　talk　about　your　future。〃
Drisinil　swallowed。　〃You　promised　to　spare　me。〃
〃I　did；　didn't　I？〃　a　smiling　Quenthel　replied。　〃Unlike　some；　we　Baenre　generally　keep　our　word。　A　reputation　for　fair　dealing　facilitates　certain　transactions。　However；　I　never　promised　not　to　punish　you。〃
〃I　understand。　Of　course　I'll　take　a　flogging　or　whatever　you　think　appropriate。〃
〃That's　quite　agreeable　of　you。　How　about　this；　then？　We'll　nip　off　the　other　eight　fingers　and　cut　out　your　tongue　as　well。〃
For　a　moment；　Drisinil　thought　she　hadn't　heard　correctly。
〃Now　you're　joking。〃
〃Oh；　no。　I　firmly　believe　you　engineered　the　plot　against　me；　and　I　intend　to　make　sure　you　don't　get　up　to　any　more　mischief。　Ever。　If　you　can't　municate；　work　magic；　or　grip　a　weapon；　that　should　take　care　of　it。　Obviously；　it　won't　be　possible　for　you　to　continue　at　ArachTinilith；　and　I　wouldn't　count　on　the　warmest　of　weles　when　you　return　home。　I　doubt　Mez'Barris　Armgo　will　have　much　interest　in　a　grotesquely　crippled　and　thoroughly　useless　daughter。　She　may　even　consider　you　an　embarrassment　to　be　killed　or　locked　away。〃
Enraged；　panicked；　Drisinil　lunged；　but　never　landed　a　blow。　Powerful　hands　grabbed　her　from　behind；　hauled　her　back；　and　something　hard　and　heavy　bashed　her　over　the　head。　Her　legs　folded　beneath　her。　She　would　have　fallen　if　not　for　her　captors　holding　her　up。
Quave's　voice　sounded　over　Drisinil's　shoulder。　〃We've　got　her；　Mistress。〃
〃Thank　you；〃　Quenthel　said。　〃Take　her　to　the　penance　chamber　and　secure　her。〃
〃Yes；　Mistress；〃　said　Quave。　〃1　assume　you'll　do　the　cutting　yourself。〃
〃I'd　like　to；〃　said　the　Baenre；　〃but　there's　another　matter　demanding　my　attention。　You　can　do　it。　Enjoy　yourself。　Just　mind　she　doesn't　die　of　it。　They　can　drown　in　their　own　blood　when　you　take　the　tongue。〃
Pharaun　relaxed　in　the　chair；　enjoying　the　feel　of　the　barber's　fingers　kneading　tonic　into　his　scalp。　It　wasn't　as　relaxing　as　a　fullbody　massage；　but　soothing　nonetheless。
The　barber　chattered　away；　and　the　wizard　periodically　responded　with　a　nonmittal；　〃Indeed；〃　or　a　grunt。　Like；　he　suspected；　tonsorial　customers　of　all　races　in　all　ages　of　the　world；　he　wasn't　actually　listening。
The　barber's　stall；　a　little　box　redolent　of　unguents　and　pomades；　was　open　at　the　front；　and　it　was　more　interesting　to　gaze　out　at　the　sights　of　the　Bazaar。　A　moner　strode　by　carrying　a　clucking　chicken；　imported　from　the　Lands　of　Light；　in　a　box。　A　merchant　had　probably　promised　the　fellow　the　fowl　would　lay　for　years　to　e；　though　in　reality；　such　birds　rarely　thrived　in　the　Underdark。　A　portrait　painter　rendered　his　subject；　the　enchantments　in　the　brush　enabling　him　to　fill　the　canvas　with　astonishing　speed。　An　armorer　drove　a　rapier　through　a　bound；　gagged　kobold　to　demonstrate　the　sharpness　of　the　point。
Cowl　up；　mantle　drawn　close　around　him；　and　Splitter　hidden　by　the　charm　of　concealment　Pharaun　had　cast　on　it；　Ryld　loitered　across　the　way　in　a　tent　with　the　sides　folded　up。　There；　games　of　all　sorts　were　on　display。　The　hulking　swordsman　stood　pondering　a　sava　board；　where　he'd　set　up　a　problem　with　the　onyx　and　carnelian　pieces。
A　change　came　over　the　scene　beyond　the　doorway；　and　people　looked　to　the　north。　Some　started　to　squeeze　up　against　the　stalls；　clearing　the　center　of　the　lane。　A　ragged；　furtivelooking　moner　hurried　away　in　the　opposite　direction。
Ryld　sauntered　to　the　near　edge　of　the　tent；　glanced　where　everyone　else　was　peering；　then　gave　Pharaun　a　subtle　nod；　confirming　what　the　wizard　had　already　guessed。　A　patrol　was　headed　their　way。
Pharaun　wished　the　guards　could　have　waited　just　five　more　minutes；　but　alas；　he　would　have　to　go　to　work　before　the　barber　finished　with　him。　A　tragedy；　but　it　couldn't　be　helped。
A　moment　later　the　patrol　marched　by；　casting　stern　glances　hither　and　yon；　their　tread　silent　thanks　to　their　enchanted　boots。　In　at　least　nominal　mand　was　a　priestess　of　ArachTinilith　armed　with　a　polished　wooden　wand。　Assisting　her　were　a　teacher　from　MeleeMagthere　and　Gelroos　Zaphresz；　one　of　Pharaun's　junior　colleagues　in　Sorcere。　It　was　unfortunate。　Possessed　of　a　store　of　jokes　and　ical　ditties；　Gelroos　was　congenial　pany。　At　least　if　Pharaun　murdered　the　other　mage　today；　he　wouldn't　have　to　worry　about　Gelroos　trying　to　assassinate　him　tomorrow。
In　addition　to　its　officers；　the　patrol　consisted　of　a　number　of　warriorsintraining；　boys　whom　Ryld　had　almost　certainly　instructed　at　one　time　or　another。　Pharaun　wasn't　particularly　worried　about　them。　His　fellow　teachers　were　the　real　threat。
The　Master　of　Sorcere　waited　until　the　guards　had　marched　past　then；　surprising　the　barber；　he　tossed　aside　the　hairsprinkled　cloth　covering　his　chest；　stood　up；　and　handed　the　craftsman　a　gold　coin；　a　princely　overpayment　for　his　services。　He　touched　a　finger　to　his　lips　in　wordless　explanation　of　what　he　actually　wanted　to　buy。　He　picked　up　his　piwafwi；　whose　elegance　he'd　obscured　with　a　minor　illusion；　swirled　it　around　his　shoulders；　walked　to　the　doorway　of　the　stall；　and　peeked　out。
The　patrol　had　tramped　about　twenty　yards　down　the　lane。　Any　farther　and　they'd　turn　a　corner；　so　Pharaun　had　attained　as　much　separation　from　the　enemy　as　he　was　going　to　get。　He　draped　a　fold　of　silk　across　the　lower　half　of　his　face；　then　stepped　out　into　the　open；　brandished　a　glass　marble　and　a　pinch　of　rust；　and　recited　an　incantation。　His　halfbarbered　hair　stood　on　end；　and　the　air　around　him　smelled　of　ozone。　A　crackling　bluewhite　spark　appeared　in　the　air　before　him；　then　shot　down　the　aisle。
When　it　reached　the　patrol；　the　flickering　point　of　radiance　exploded；　shooting　flares　of　lightning　in　all　directions。　Many　of　the　callow　young　soldiers　danced；　burned；　and　fell；　as　they　possessed　neither　the　spiritual　strength　nor　the　protective　talismans　that　might　have　minimized　their　injuries　and　kept　them　on　their　feet。　Unfortunately；　the　sizzling；　jumping　arcs　of　power　struck　a　handful　of　vendors　and　shoppers　as　well。　Pharaun　hadn't　particularly　wanted　to　harm　nonbatants；　but　the　aisle　was　simply　too　cramped。
The　rest　of　the　patrol　began　to　pivot。　The　captain　from　MeleeMagthere　was　smoking；　blackened；　and　blistered；　but　if　he　was　anything　like　Ryld；　his　burns　weren't　likely　to　slow　him　down。　Gelroos　and　the　priestess　looked　as　if　the　lightning　hadn't　even　touched　them。　The　female　was　spinning　around　a　hair　faster　than　the　other　two；　raising　her　baton。　Thanks　to　his　silver　ring；　Pharaun　could　tell　it　was　a　spider　wand；　a　weapon　capable　of　entangling　him　in　sticky　webbing。
He　had　no　intention　of　enduring　that　kind　of　humiliation。　He　rattled　off　a　string　of　magic　words　and　thrust　his　arm　out。　Five　slivers　of　arcane　force　leaped　from　his　fingertips；　hurtled　across　the　intervening　space；　and