蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第41部分

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；　still　claiming　ignorance　of　Gromph's　whereabouts。　〃This　is　as　good　a　spot　as　any　to　spy　out　the　lay　of　the　land。　We're　below　some　of　the　smoke　but　still　high　enough　for　an　aerial　inspection。〃
Since　Gromph　was　still　either　unavailable　or　uninterested；　the　Mizzrym　was—with　obvious　relish—acting　in　the　Archmage’s　stead。　It　was　arguably　an　affront　to　House　Baenre　as　much　as　the　archmage；　but　Quenthel　had　given　the　order　anyway。　Until　her　brother　returned　or　the　crisis　abated；　she　needed　someone　to　speak　for　Sorcere；　and　she　was　sure　it　would　upset　Gromph　in　an　amusing　way　to　have　this　dandy　taking　his　place　for　so　important　a　task。　
She　halted；　and　her　minions　came　to　a　ragged；　jostling　stop　behind　her。　The　whip　vipers　reared　to　survey　the　cityscape　along　with　her。　From　the　corner　of　her　eye；　she　saw　Pharaun　smile　briefly　as　if　he　found　the　serpents'　behavior　ical。
〃There；〃　said　Quenthel；　pointing；　〃in　Manyfolk。　It　looks　as　if　House　Auvryndar　may　have　finished　exterminating　their　own　slaves；　but　a　mob　keeps　them　penned　within　their　walls。〃
〃I　see　it；　Blessed　Mother；〃　said　Malaggar　Faen　Tlabbar　from　the　step　behind　her。　The　First　Sword　of　MeleeMagthere　was　a　merrylooking；　roundfaced　boy　with　a　fondness　for　green　attire　and　emeralds。　〃With　your　permission；　that　might　be　a　good　place　to　start。　We'll　lift　the　siege　and　add　the　Auvryndar　to　our　own　army。〃
〃So　be　it；〃　Quenthel　said
The　residents　of　the　Academy　reached　the　floor　of　the　lower　cavern；　whereupon　the　instructors；　particularly　the　warriors　of　the　pyramid；　set　about　the　business　of　forming　the　scholars　into　squads；　with　swordsmen　and　spearman　protecting　the　spellcasters。　Then　they　had　to　arrange　the　units　into　some　semblance　of　a　marching　order。
Like　every　princess　of　a　great　House；　Quenthel　had　a　working　knowledge　of　military　matters；　and　she　watched　the　attempt　to　create　order　with　a　jaundiced　eye。
〃I　could　wish　for　a　proper　army；〃　she　muttered。
She　hadn't　meant　for　anyone　to　hear；　but　Pharaun　nodded。
〃I　understand　your　sentiments；　Mistress；　but　they're　all　we　have；　and　I'm　sure　that　if　we've　trained　them　properly；　we　have　a　chance。〃　He　coughed。　〃Against　the　thralls；　anyway。〃
〃Your　meaning？〃
〃The　greatest　danger　of　all　is　this　pall　of　smoke。　I　think　Syrzan；　for　all　its　cunning；　miscalculated。　If　the　mages　we　left　upstairs　don't　extinguish　the　flames；　we'll　all　suffocate；　female　and　male；　elf　and　ore　alike；　leaving　the　alhoon　a　necropolis　to　rule。　Still；　I　suppose　we　must　concentrate　on　our　task　and　not　fret　about　the　rest。〃
〃What　alhoon？〃　she　demanded。
He　hesitated。　〃It　really　is　a　long　story；　Mistress；　and　not　crucial　at　this　moment。〃
〃I　will　decide　what　is　crucial；　mage；〃　she　said。　〃Speak。〃
Before　Pharaun　could　begin　she　saw　the　First　Sword　approaching；　presumably　to　inform　her　that　the　pany　was　ready　to　set　forth。
As　they　started　to　march；　she　listened　to　the　mage's　tale　of　the　undead　mind　flayer　and　its　designs　for　Menzoberranzan。　There　was　more；　she　was　sure；　that　he　was　holding　back；　but　she　could　always　torture　it　out　of　him　later。
Along　the　way；　the　teachers　and　students　found　their　way　littered　with　mangled　dark　elf　corpses；　some　headless；　some　partially　devoured；　firelight　gilding　their　sightless　eyes。　The　rich　smell　of　blood　peted　with　the　acrid　foulness　of　the　smoke。
Or　course；　no　drow　objected　to　the　spectacle　of　violent　death；　but　the　ubiquity　of　the　ravaged　shapes；　bined　with　the　glare　of　the　flames　and　the　uncanny　sight　of　burning　stone；　made　it　seem　as　if　Menzoberranzan　itself　had　bee　a　sort　of　hell；　and　that　was；　for　Quenthel　at　least；　unsettling。
The　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith　thought　that　were　she　a　weaker　person；　she　might　have　felt　as　if　she　were　moving　through　a　nightmare；　or　interpreted　the　carnage　as　proof　positive　that　Lolth　had　turned　her　back　on　Menzoberranzan　for　good　and　all。　She　consoled　herself　with　the　thought　that　at　least　this　time　she　was　marching　against　an　enemy　she　could　see　and　smite。
Periodically　the　scholars　saw　small　groups　of　undercreatures　looting；　slaughtering　hapless　moners；　or　even　flinging　stones　and　arrows　at　the　column。　The　younger　students　sought　to　attack　the　thralls；　and　the　teachers　bellowed　at　them　to　desist。　The　Academy　had　to　act　as　a　unit　and　stick　to　a　plan　if　it　hoped　to　win　the　day。
Malaggar　raised　his　hand；　signaling　a　stop。
We're　close；　I　think；　he　reported　in　the　silent　drow　sign　language。
They　stood　in　place　until　a　flying　scout；　a　brother　of　the　pyramid　possessed　of　a　cloak　that　converted　into　batlike　wings；　swooped　down　and　gave　his　report。
Mistress；　Malaggar　signed；　may　I　suggest　that　ten　squads　keep　on　straight；　and　the　rest　of　us　circle　around　that　block　of　houses。　We'll　take　the　ores　from　two　sides。
Very　well；　Quenthel　replied　as　she　surveyed　her　army。　All　of　you　from　the　head　of　the　column　to　the　mouth　of　that　alley；　follow　me。　The　rest　of　you；　go　with　Master　Faen　Tlabbar。　Everyone；　quietly　as　you　can。
Hands　lifted　at　intervals　down　the　column　to　relay　the　orders　to　those　who　couldn't　see　her。
The　pany　divided；　then　Quenthel's　troops　crept　on；　toward　a　clamoring　mob　that　quite　possibly　outnumbered　them。　Fortunately；　the　slaves　hadn't　noticed　the　Academy's　arrival；　and　she　meant　to　take　full　advantage　of　their　ignorance。　She　quickly　arranged　her　troops　in　a　ragged　but　serviceable　formation；　then　bade　them　attack　as　one。
Power　howled　and　flashed；　burning；　blasting；　and　devouring　masses　of　goblins。　Darts　leaped　through　the　air　to　pierce　ores　and　bugbears。　Undercreatures　fell　by　the　score。
Yet　after　that　first　volley；　scores　remained；　and　they　flung　themselves　at　the　scholars　in　a　yammering　frenzy。　The　drow　hastily　abandoned　their　crossbows　for　swords　and　spears。　Hidden　behind　lines　of　warriors；　mages　and　priestesses　peered；　trying　to　see　what　was　going　on　in　the　midst　of　the　savage　melee　so　they　could　target　their　spells　without　harming　their　own　rades。
Quenthel　could　have　cowered　behind　her　own　rank　of　protectors—perhaps；　as　high　priestess　and　leader；　she　should　have—but　she　thought　it　might　stiffen　the　spines　of　the　first　and　secondyear　students　if　she　led　from　the　front；　and　in　any　case；　she　wanted　to　kill　up　close　and　see　the　pain　and　fear　in　her　victims'　faces。　Her　vipers　rearing　and　hissing；　she　shoved　her　way　to　the　front。
She　slew　several　goblinoids；　and　dazzling　yellow　light　flashed　and　crackled　around　her。　The　fire　magic　did　her　no　harm—her　mystical　defenses　held—but　several　of　the　folk　around　her；　drow　and　undercreature　alike；　shrieked　and　fell。
For　a　moment；　everyone；　every　survivor　in　the　immediate　vicinity；　was　stunned。　Then　ores　scrambled　forward　at　the　gaps　the　blaze　had　created　in　the　drow　line；　and　scholars　darted　forward　to　fill　them。　No　one　paid　any　heed　to　the　burned　rades　beneath　their　feet；　save　to　curse　them　if　she　tripped。
Quenthel　stepped　back；　letting　a　student　warrior　from　House　Despana　take　her　place；　then　cast　about；　seeking　the　source　of　the　burst　of　flame。　She　had　a　vague　sense　that　the　magic　had　plunged　down　from　above；　so　she　looked　there　first；　at　the　upper　stories　of　the　buildings　to　either　side。
She　blinked　in　surprise。　Like　true　arachnids；　driders　were　scutding　about　the　walls　and　rooflines。　Many　such　debased　creatures　retained　their　spellcasting　abilities；　and　one　of　them　must　have　conjured　the　fire。
Quenthel　had　no　idea　how　the　thralls　and　outcasts　could　have　conspired　together；　nor　did　she　have　time　to　stop　and　ponder　the　question。　She　had　to　stop　the　driders　before　they　destroyed　her　pany　from　above。　She　levitated　upward　through　the　smoky　air；　meanwhile　looking　about　for　the　mage　who'd　created　the　flame。
Barbed　arrows　and　bolts　of　light　streaked　at　her　from　all　directions。　She　shielded　her　face　with　a　fold　of　her　piwafwi；　and　the　missiles　rebounded　or　dissolved　when　they　encountered　her　layers　of　enchanted　protection。　The　impacts　stung　but　did　no　serious　damage。
When　she'd　ascended　to　their　level；　she　recognized　certain　snarling　faces　even　with　the　fangs；　driders　whom　she　herself　had　helped　to　make。　Perhaps　it　explained　why　they'd　throw　magic　at　her　despite　the　inevitable　damage　to　the　mob　of　ores。
She　quickly　unrolled　another　scroll　and　read　the　trigger　phrase　therein。　Blades　appeared；　floating　among　the　driders　in　front　of　her；　then　began　to　revolve　around　a　central　point。　The　razorsharp　slivers　of　metal　sped　along　so　fast　they　were　invisible；　and　their　orbits　curved　through　the　bodies　of　their　foes。　The　blades　sliced　and　pierced　the　halfspiders　without　even　slowing　down；　reducing　the　brutes　to　scraps　of　meat　and　splashes　of　blood。
Quenthel　laughed　and　started　to　twist　around　to　face　the　driders　atop　the　stalagmite　buildings　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　street。　A　length　of　something　sticky　lashed　her　and　looped　tightly　about　her　torso；　binding　her　free　hand　to　her　chest。
It　was　webbing。　She　knew　that　some　driders　could　spin　the　stuff。　As　they　sought　to　reel　her　in；　she　levitated　once　more；　resisting　the　pull　like　a　fish　on　a　line。　Meanwhile；　she　struggled　to　reach　another　scroll　despite　the　constriction　of　her　arm。　The　vipers　bit　and　chewed　at　the　cable。
Pharaun　levitated　into　view；　and　sizzling　white　lightning　leaped　from　his　fingertips。　It　stabbed　one　drider；　then　leaped　to　the　next；　then　another；　until　the　twisting；　dazzling　power　linked　all　the　halfspiders　like　beads　on　a　chain。　They　danced　spasmodically　until　the　magic　ended；　then　instantly　collapsed。　Stinking　smoke　rose　from　the　remains。
Pharaun　smiled　at　Quenthel　and　said；　〃I've　often　wondered　why　the　goddess　doesn't　transform　our　misfits　into　something　harmless；〃　he　said。　〃I　suppose　driders　are　another　tool　for　culling　the　weak。〃
Ignoring　his　blather；　Quenthel　peered　down　to　see　what　was　transpiring　on　the　battlefield。
Malaggar's　contingent　had　arrived　and　was　tearing　into　the　enemy's　flank。　At　virtually　the　same　instant；　the　Auvryndar　threw　open　their　gates；　and；　mounted　on　their　lizards；　charged　forth　in　a　sortie。
Teeth　gritted；　Quenthel　pulled　the　gummy　web　off　her　person　and　floated　down　to　rejoin　her　troops　on　the　ground。　Contemptuous　of　the　enemies'　arrows；　Pharaun　continued　to　hang　above　the　warriors'　heads　from　which　point　it　was　no　doubt　easier　to　aim　his　magic。
The　scholars　only　had　to　fight　for　a　few　more　minutes　then；　hammered　on　three　sides；　the　mass　of　goblins　collapsed　in　on　itself；　the　implosion　laying　a　carpet　of　corpses　in　its　wake。
Quenthel　allowed　her　troops　only　a　few　minutes　to　collect　themselves；　then　she　formed　them　up　and　marched　them　on　toward　the　next　of　the　goddess　only　knew　how　many　battles。
〃Out〃　Greyanna　shouted。　〃Now？
The　canoe　maker　gawked　at　her　and　sputtered；　〃Whwhat　about　my　stock？〃
The　items　in　question　sat　about　the　floor　of　the　workroom　or　hung　cradled　in　straps　hooked　to　the　ceiling。
〃The　goblins　will　destroy　them；〃　the　scarfaced　princess　said。　〃Like　this。〃　She　smashed　a　halffinished　kayak；　a　fragilelooking　construction　of　curved　bone　ribs　and　hide；　with　a　sweep　of　her　mace。　〃Afterward；　you'll　make　more；　but　only　if　you　live。　Now　get　moving；　or　I'll　kill　you　myself。〃
The　craftsman　scrambled　off　his　stool；　and　she　chivvied　him　out　the　door。　Up　and　down　the　street；　her　half　dozen　minions　were　rousting　out　the　occupants　of　other　manufactories　and　shops。
A　mob　of　hairy　hobgoblins；　all　wellarmed　and　many　a　head　taller　than　the　average　dark　elf；　slouched　around　a　corner　onto　the　thoroughfare。　They　spotted　the　drow；　bellowed　their　uncouth　battle　cries；　and　charged。
After　the　disastrous　encounter　with　Ryld　Argith；　one　of　the　twins　was　dead。　The　other；　and　Relonor；　lay　grievously　wounded；　as　they　still　did　in　House　Mizzrym。　There　they　would　live　or　die　without　recourse　to　further　doses　of　healing　magic；　since　Miz'ri　declined　to　squander　the　House's　limited　resources　on　such　inpetents。　Greyanna　had　entirely　agreed。
After　taking　the　wounded　home；　Greyanna；　with　the　questionable　aid　of　Aunrae；　had　selected　five　new　males　to　join　her　in　the　hunt。　This　time；　they'd　stalk　Pharaun　on　foot；　Greyanna　having　belatedly　realized　that　foulwings　weren't　lucky　for　her。
She　and　her　band　had　been　wandering　the　streets　seeking　word　of　their　quarry　when　the　rebellion　erupted。　Once　she'd　grasped　the　magnitude　of　the　disturbance；　she　wondered　if　it　was　the　raid　on　the　Braeryn　that　she　had　engineered；　that　brutal　attempt　to　flush　her　brother　out　of　hiding；　that　had　inspired　the　thralls　to　revolt。　In　a　mad；　dark　way；　the　possibility　pleased　her；　but　she　decided　not　to　share　her　hypothesis。　Few　would　see　the　humor。
Most　of　her　thinking；　however；　was　given　over　to　practical　considerations。　She　thought　her　hunting　party　could　help　put　down　the　undercreatures；　but　only　if　it　could　bine　forces　with　a　bona　fide　army。　Otherwise；　the　larger　mobs　would　overwhelm　it。
In　those　first　minutes　of　slaughter　and　destruction；　she　watched　for　some　noble　clan　to　ride　forth　from　their　castle　and　drive　the　goblins　before　them。　To　her　consternation；　none　did；　at　least　not　in　her　immediate　vicinity。　Her　little　troop　was　on　its　own。
Life　then　became　an　infuriating　business　of　running　and　hiding　from　ores　of　all　things；　of　watching　beasts　no　better　than　rothe　destroy　beauty　and　sophistication　they　couldn't　even　perceive。　Occasionally；　she　and　her　panions　slew　a　small　group　of　goblinoids　wandering　on　their　own；　but　it　meant　nothing；　would　do　nothing　to　arrest　the　dissolution　of　all　that　was　finest　in　the　world。
Where　was　the　Spider　Queen？　Perhaps　she　was　bored　with　her　toy　Menzoberranzan；　magnificent　though　it　was。　Perhaps　she　intended　to　break　it　to　make　space　for　a　new　one。
In　time；　Greyanna's　dodging　and　backtracking　brought　her　to　a　street　she　recognized；　a　double　row　of　prosperous　shops—to　be　precise；　establishments　owned　by　tradesmen　under　the　patronage　of　House　Mizzrym。　She　herself　had　called　hereabouts；　collecting　rents　and　fees；　occasionally　chastising　a　fool　who　was　late　paying　on　a　loan　or　had　otherwise　displeased　Matron　Mother　Miz'ri。
It　occurred　to　Greyanna　that　if　the　merchants　perished；　they'd　contribute　no　more　gold　to　Mizzrym　coffers。　Whereas　if　she　conducted　them　to　safety；　she　might　curry　some　favor　with　her　mother。　Miz'ri　had　grown　impatient　with　her　continuing　failure　to　kill　Pharaun　and　had　even　hinted　that　another　might　carry　the　mantle　of　First　Daughter　with　more　grace。
At　the　very　least；　preserving　Mizzrym　assets　would　feel　more　constructive　and　less　frustrating　than　simply　skulking　about；　and　so　Greyanna　instructed　her　followers　to　extract　the　frightened　traders　and　artisans　from　their　homes。
She　loosed　a　crossbow　bolt　at　the　hobgoblins；　and　her　soldiers　did　the　same。　Her　wizard　conjured　a　cold；　towering　shadow　like　the　silhouette　of　a　mantis；　which　mangled　several　thralls　in　its　oversized　pincers　before　melting　out　of　existence。　In　all；　at　least　a　dozen　brutes　fell；　but　others　shambled　forth　from　the　smoke　and　fiery　glare　to　take　their　place。
Voices　of　torment；　she　thought；　how　many　undercreatures　were　there　in　Menzoberranzan？
Until　that　day；　Greyanna　had　never　really　noticed。　She　guessed　no　one　else　had；　either。
The　hobgoblins　charged。
The　Mizzrym　princess　shouted；　〃Dark　wall〃
Three　of　her　retainers；　those　closest　to　the　onrushing　thralls；　stooped　and　touched　the　ground；　conjuring　a　curtain　of　shadow　between　themselves　and　the　undercreatures；　then　fell　back。
One　of　the　Mizzrym　warriors　herded　the　shopkeepers　farther　from　the　threat。　The　rest；　Greyanna　i