蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第6部分

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〃Pharaun　ran　off　from　Sorcere？〃　Greyanna　interrupted；　her　eyes　narrowed。　〃Were　they　finally　going　to　punish　him　for　getting　those　novices　killed？〃
〃No；　and　no　Shut　your　mouth；　let　me　tell　the　tale；　and　we'll　e　to　your　little　obsession　in　a　moment。〃
〃Yes；　Mother。〃
〃Males　continue　to　elope；　and　despite　our　warning　him　off；　Gromph　still　intends　to　investigate　the　matter。　Hoping　to　escape　our　notice　and　displeasure；　he　decided　to　do　so　by　proxy；　and　summoned　a　suitable　agent　to　his　office　to　discuss　the　matter。　Happily；　we　members　of　the　Council　possess　a　scrying　crystal　with　which　we　recently　managed　to　pierce　the　obscuring　enchantments　shrouding　the　room。　Some　of　them；　anyway。　We　still　can't　see　in；　but　we　can　hear　what　goes　on；　and　that　sufficed　to　reveal　the　arch　mage’s　plan　as　well　as　the　identity　of　his　minion。　Now；　if　you　must；　you　may　excitedly　babble　your　brother's　name。〃
〃I　imagine　Gromph　told　him　this　is　his　one　big　chance　to　redeem　himself。〃
〃Exactly。　The　question　is；　how　shall　we　priestesses　respond？〃
〃I　gather　there's　a　reason　you　don't　just　tell　Gromph　you're　on　to　his　plan。〃　Of　course；　several。　For　one；　our　first　confrontation　with　him　was　courteous　and　mild；　but　who　knows；　a　second　might　be　less　so。　As　things　stand；　we　hesitate　to　push　him　very　hard。　For　another；　we　don't　want　him　to　know　we　can　eavesdrop　on　him。　He'd　either　block　us　out　or　hatch　his　plots　elsewhere。　It's　better　all　around　simply　to　take　his　pawn　out　of　play。　Given　that　Pharaun　is　a　secret　operative；　whatever　may　befall　him；　the　Archmage　can　hardly　take　exception　to　it。　The　catch　being　that　dealing　with　your　brother　is　a　formidable　undertaking；　arguably　on　any　occasion　but　certainly　at　the　moment。〃
Greyanna　nodded。　〃Because　he's　a　wizard；　and　we　are　。　。　。　what　we　are。〃
〃So　where；　the　Council　wondered；　can　we　find　a　priestess　so　bold；　so　motivated；　that　even　now　she'll　be　eager　to　hunt　the　male　when　he　descends　to　the　city。　I　told　the　others　I　thought　I　knew　of　a　candidate。〃
〃You　were　right。〃
〃The　beauty　of　it　is　that　you　do　have　a　personal　score　to　settle。　If　people　see　you　do　something　unpleasant　to　Pharaun；　they　won't　have　to　wonder　what　the　reason　is。〃
〃Yes；　I　see　that。　May　I　draw　on　all　the　resources　of　our　House　to　aid　me　in　my　efforts？〃
〃I　can　only　give　you　a　few　helpers。　If　people　saw　you　descend　on　the　city　with　House　Mizzrym's　entire　army　at　your　back；　they　wouldn't　assume　it's　a　personal　matter。　You　can　have　your　pick　of　magic　weapons　from　the　armory。　Don't　waste　them；　though。　Expend　only　what　you　need。〃
Greyanna　inclined　her　head。　〃I'll　start　preparing　right　away。〃
Miz'ri　finally　smiled；　and　somehow；　in　defiance　of　any　reasonable　expectation；　it　made　her　face　more　threatening；　not　less。
　
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F　　O　　U　　R
The　Silken　Rack　was　not；　as　visitors　to　Menzoberranzan　sometimes　assumed；　a　fine　cloth　emporium。　It　was；　technically；　a　massage　parlor；　but　only　a　vulgarian　would　call　it　that。　Rather；　it　was　a　palace　of　delight；　where　the　most　skilled　body　servants　in　the　Underdark　provided　what　many　dark　elves　considered　to　be　most　exquisite　of　all　pleasures。
Waerva　Baenre　was　herself　of　that　opinion。　She　had　already　soaked　her　pampered；　voluptuous　form　in　warm；　scented　oil；　and　she　would　have　liked　nothing　better　to　lose　herself　utterly　in　the　touch　of　her　masseur。
But　that；　alas；　was　not　possible。　She'd　e　to　this　shrine　of　the　senses　on　business；　business　that　could　be　conducted　far　more　safely　and　discreetly　there　than　in　the　Baenre　citadel　or　the　ambassador's　residence　in　West　Wall。　That　was　why　she；　by　nature　gregarious；　had　hired　a　cozy　private　room　containing　only　two　contoured　couches　and　a　pair　of　hulking　deafmute　human　masseurs　in　preference　to　her　supremely　gifted　Tluth。
Happily；　the　tongueless　slave　she'd　chosen　for　herself　was　also　highly　petent。　He　kneaded　her　neck　muscles　in　a　way　that　was　pain　and　bliss　at　the　same　time；　wringing　a　groan　of　sweet　release　out　of　her。　Naturally；　it　was　at　this　somewhat　undignified　moment　that　Umrae　came　though　the　door。
Not　that　Waerva's　momentary　disposure　made　Umrae　smile。　The　Baenre　couldn't　imagine　what　it　would　take　to　acplish　that。　A　rather　gaunt；　homely　female；　her　skin　the　unhealthy　dull　grayblack　color　of　charcoal；　the　cut　of　her　nondescript　garments　subtly　divergent　from　the　styles　of　Menzoberranzan；　Umrae　always　arrived　at　these　clandestine　meetings　stiff　and　awkward　with　nervous　tension。　Waerva　supposed　that　was　the　difference　between　moners　and　nobles。　No　matter　how　perilous　the　situation；　an　aristocrat　always　managed　a　certain　grace。
〃She's　looking　at　maps〃　declared　Umrae。　Her　voice　matched　her　appearance。　There　was　no　music　in　it。
〃I'm　not　surprised；〃　Waerva　replied。　〃Your　mistress　is　reasonably　clever。　I　never　thought　she　would　remain　placent　forever。〃　The　body　servant　dug　his　fingertips　into　Waerva's　upper　back；　and　she　shivered。　〃We'll　talk　about　it；　but　first；　please；　set　my　mind　at　ease。　Tell　me　that　no　one　who　matters　saw　you　enter　this　particular　room。〃
Umrae　scowled；　apparently　irked　by　the　very　suggestion。　〃No；　of　course　not。〃
〃Then　for　pity's　sake；　take　off　your　clothes。　You　supposedly　came　here　for　a　deepstroke；　and　you　want　to　look　as　if　you've　had　one　when　you　get　back　home。　Besides；　these　fellows　are　worth　the　rent。〃
Still　frowning　as　if　she　suspected　Waerva　was　perpetrating　some　sort　of　joke　at　her　expense；　Umrae　gestured　brusquely　to　the　human；　slightly　smaller　and　less　muscular　than　his　patriot；　whom　the　Baenre　had　left　for　her　use。　Careful　not　to　make　eye　contact；　the　slave　began　to　undress　her　and　hang　her　garments　on　the　hooks　set　in　the　wall。
〃So　what　are　we　going　to　do？〃　the　moner　asked。　〃She's　guarded。　Even　with　the　resource　you　gave　me；　I'm　not　sure　I　could　kill　her　and　escape；　but　surely　you　have　skilled　assassins　at　your　disposal。〃
〃Of　course。〃　Waerva　had　to　close　her　slanted　ruby　eyes　as　her　body　servant　squeezed　and　rubbed　another　clenched　muscle　into　warm；　limp　submission。　It　was　remarkable　how　she　didn't　even　realize　they　were　tight　until　the　masseur　got　his　hands　on　them。　〃Murder　would　have　its　advantages。　It　would　take　her　off　the　sava　board　for　good　and　all。〃
〃Then　we're　agreed？〃　Umrae　asked　as　she　lay　down　on　her　couch。　Her　body　servant　gently　spread　her　mane　of　coarse　white　hair　to　expose　the　flesh　beneath。
Waerva　grinned。　〃You　sound　so　eager。〃
〃I　admit　I'm　not　fond　of　her。〃　Umrae's　human　opened　a　white　porcelain　bottle　of　unguent；　and　a　sweet　scent　tinged　the　air。　〃That's　not　the　point。　The　point　is　to　shield　us　all　for　as　long　as　we　need　it。〃
〃I　quite　agree；〃　said　Waerva；　〃and　my　concern　is　that　an　assassination　could　prove　counterproductive。　Might　it　not　call　attention　to　your　mistress's　suspicions？　Might　it　not　lend　weight　to　them？　Does　she　not　have　a　deputy　of　like　mind　ready　to　take　over　in　the　event　of　her　demise？〃
Urnrae　scowled；　pondering　the　questions；　plainly　not　enjoying　it　much。　Her　slave　spread　a　thin　coat　of　amber　oil　onto　her　back。
From　elsewhere　in　the　building　echoed　the　faint；　distorted　sounds　of　shouting；　laughter；　and　splashing。　Waerva　guessed　it　must　be　males　amusing　themselves　in　one　of　the　bathing　pools。　The　females　of　the　city　were　scarcely　in　the　mood　for　boisterous　horseplay。
At　last　Umrae　said；　〃All　right；　what　do　you　want　to　do？〃
〃Counter　the　threat　in　a　subtler　way。　She　can't　injure　us　if　she's　never　afforded　the　chance　to　confirm　her　suspicions。〃
〃How　will　you　ensure　that？〃　Umrae's　voice　quavered　as　her　thrall　began　to　lightly　pummel　her　gleaming　back　with　the　bottoms　of　his　fists。
Good　luck　loosening　up　those　petrified　limbs；　Waerva　thought。　〃I　am　a　priestess　of　the　Baenre；　am　I　not？〃
〃The　least　of　them。〃
〃How　insolent　of　you　to　say　so。〃　Waerva　tensed　with　annoyance　until　her　masseur's　hands　rebuked　her。
〃I　only　meant—〃
〃I　know　what　you　meant；　and　I　don't　deny　it。　It's　why　I'm　here；　after　all。　Yet　consider　this：　My　aunt　Triel　has　always　depended　on　the　advice　of　two　people；　Gromph　and　Quenthel。　She　can't　really　talk　to　Gromph　anymore　because　she's　keeping　him　in　the　dark　with　the　rest　of　the　males。　I　doubt　she'll　see　much　of　Quenthel　for　a　while；　either。　The　tiny　shedemon　will　stay　busy　contending　with　her　own　problems。　She's　endured　some　sort　of　mishap　up　on　Tier　Breche。〃
Umrae　twisted　her　head　around　to　look　at　her　sister　conspirator　and　said；　〃I've　heard　rumors　about　that。　What　actually　happened？〃
〃I　don't　know—〃　Though　I　wish　to　the　goddess　I　did；　she　thought—　〃but　whatever　it　was；　it　works　to　our　advantage。　We　want　Triel　to　suffer　a　dearth　of　counselors。〃
〃What　about　her　magical　new　son？　They　say　he　acpanies　her　everywhere。〃
Waerva　smiled。　〃Jeggred's　not　a　factor。　He's　a　magnificent　specimen　but　scarcely　a　font　of　sage　advice。　I　assure　you　poor；　uncertain　Triel　will　be　absolutely　frantic　for　plausible　insights　from　other　Baenre　priestesses；　even　the　lowlier　ones　like　me。　I　will　buy　our　friends　the　time　they　need　to　work　free　of　outside　interference。〃
〃You　will　if　Triel　trusts　you。〃
〃In　this；　she　will。　We　Baenre　are　proud。　It　will　be　inconceivable　to　Triel　that　one　of　our　females　would　wish　to　abandon　the　First　House　in　favor　of　a　new　life　elsewhere。　Of　course；　she　wasn't　born　at　the　absolute　bottom　of　the　internal　hierarchy；　was　she；　with　dozens　of　older　sisters　and　cousins　taking　precedence　over　her　and　holding　all　the　important　offices。　Even　if　I　started　recklessly　trying　to　pick　them　off　whenever　one　lowers　her　guard　even　slightly；　it　could　still　take　me　centuries　to　ascend　to　a　position　of　genuine　power　within　the　family。〃
〃All　right；　that　makes　sense。　What　will　you　tell　her？〃
〃The　obvious。〃　Waerva　sighed　shakily　as　her　human　went　to　work　on　her　sacroiliac。　〃For　all　we　know；　it　may　even　be　the　truth。〃
〃I　suppose。〃
Umrae　lapsed　into　a　sullen　silence。　Her　body　servant's　hands　made　slapping　and　sucking　sounds　as　they　played　about　her　slick；　moist；　bony　back。
〃By　the　six　hundred　and　sixtysix　layers　of　the　Abyss；〃　said　Waerva；　〃what　ails　you？　If　you're　having　seconds　thoughts；　the　time　for　that　is　well　past。〃
〃I'm　not。　I　want　to　be　something　better　than　milady's　secretary。　I　want　a　surname。　I　want　to　be　a　high　priestess　and　a　noble。〃
〃And　you　will。　When　your　cabal　crushes　the　established　order；　they'll　reward　me　for　my　help　by　making　me　matron　mother　of　a　new　but　exalted　House；　whereupon　I　will　adopt　you　as　my　daughter。　Why；　then；　do　you　appear　so　morose？〃
〃I　just　wonder。　This　silence　。。。　is　it　really　a　boon　for　us；　or　a　calamity？　Are　we　seizing　a　great　opportunity　or　madly　rushing　to　our　doom？〃　How　much　better　I'd　rest　if　only　I　knew；　thought　Waerva。
〃Let　me　ask　a　question；〃　the　Baenre　priestess　said。　〃Deep　down　in　your　heart　of　hearts；　did　you　serve　out　of　reverence　or　fear？〃
〃I　served　for　power。〃
〃e　to　think　of　it；〃　said　Waerva；　〃I　did；　too。　So　let　us　seize　the　power　that　still　sparkles　within　our　reach。〃
〃I—〃　Umrae　moaned　and　curled　her　toes　as　her　human　finally　managed　to　send　a　thrill　of　pleasure　singing　along　her　nerves。　　Waerva　thought　it　was　a　good　sign。
Pharaun　drank　in　the　spectacle　of　the　Bazaar。　Born　and　raised　a　Menzoberranyr；　he　had　of　course　visited　this　bustling　place　countless　times　before；　but　after　several　tendays　of　house　arrest　spent　wondering　if　his　life　was　at　an　end；　it　seemed　rather　wonderful　to　him。
Many　of　the　stalls　shone　with　light；　be　it　phosphorescent　fungus　positioned　to　flatter　the　vendor's　wares；　magical　illumination　cast　for　the　same　purpose；　or　merely　the　incidental　fallout　of　some　other　enchantment。　The　gleaming　was　never　so　fierce　as　to　offend　a　dark　elf's　eyes；　though。　The　citizens　of　the　city　wended　their　way　through　the　aisles　in　the　nurturing　darkness　that　was　their　natural　habitat；　and　what　an　interesting　lot　those　citizens　were。
A　high　priestess；　from　House　Fey　Branche　judging　from　the　livery　of　her　retainers；　emerged　from　her　curtained　litter　to　inspect　riding　lizards　with　an　eye　as　knowledgeable　and　a　hand　as　steady　as　any　groom's。　A　somewhat　seedy　looking　boy；　perhaps　a　disfavored　son　from　one　of　the　lesser　Houses；　engaged　a　cobbler　in　conversation　while　a　confederate　opened　his　voluminous　mantle　to　slip　an　expensive　pair　of　snakeskin　boots　inside。　Male　moners；　obliged　to　lower　their　eyes　to　every　female　and　step　aside　for　every　noble　of　either　gender；　pensated　by　sneering　and　swaggering　their　way　among　the　creatures　less　exalted　than　any　drow。　These　latter　were　a　motley　assortment　of　beings—gray　dwarves；　the　goggleeyed　fishmen　called　kuotoas；　and　even　a　huge；　horned　ogre　mage　from　the　World　Above—bold　enough　to　trade　or　even　dwell　in　a　dark　elf　city。　Lowliest　of　all；　at　least　as　numerous　as　the　free　but　in　their　utter　insignificance　far　easier　to　overlook；　were　the　slaves。　Orc；　gnoll；　and　bugbear　warriors　guarded　their　masters　and　mistresses；　harried；　starveling　goblins　fetched　and　carried　for　the　merchants；　and　little　reptilian　kobolds　collected　litter　and　hauled　it　away。
Pharaun　knew　from　occasional　errands　there　that　if　this　hub　of　merce　had　existed　in　one　of　the　lands　that　saw　the　sky；　it　would　have　been　exceptionally　noisy。　But　the　Menzoberranyr；　to　keep　their　cavern　from　roaring　with　a　constant　echoing　clamor；　had　laid　subtle　enchantments　about　the　smooth　stone　floor。　Sounds　close　at　hand　were　as　audible　as　was　natural；　but　those　farther　away　faded　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