蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第9部分

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mple　tavern　brawl。
Tathlyn　and　his　other　two　friends　saw　their　chance　and　rushed　in。　Ryld　knew　that　he　didn't　have　time　to　pull　the　embedded　short　sword　out　of　his　victim's　flesh。　If　he　tried；　his　other　enemies　would　have　him。　He　cloaked　the　wounded　Godeep　in　a　ragged　bulb　of　darkness　and　shoved　him　at　the　others。
Ryld　couldn't　see　through　the　obscuring　field　any　more　than　his　adversaries　could；　but；　peering　around　the　edges　of　it；　he　saw　the　wounded　Godeep　reel　into　his　fellows　and　stagger　them；　startle　them；　too；　with　the　sudden；　unexpected　impediment　to　their　sight。　That　gave　the　weapons　master　the　time　he　needed　to　whirl；　take　in　the　obstructive　clutter　of　furniture　and　gawking　sava　players　before　him；　and　leap　up　onto　the　table　where　his　own　game　sat　waiting。　His　racing　feet　annihilated　the　snare　he'd　so　cunningly　laid　for　the　merchant；　hurling　the　pieces　rattling　across　the　board　and　onto　the　floor。
He　jumped　down　on　the　other　side；　grabbed　Splitter；　and　spun　back　around　to　face　his　enemies。　In　one　smooth　blur　of　motion；　he　yanked　this　most　trusted　of　all　his　weapons　from　its　scabbard　and　came　on　guard。　Despite　its　hugeness；　the　great　sword　was　so　perfectly　balanced　that　it　felt　as　light　as　a　dagger　in　his　grasp。
He　noticed　that　the　nonbatants　in　the　taproom　had　begun　shouting　encouragement　and　insults　at　the　fighters。　A　couple　quickthinking　gamblers　were　giving　odds。
Ryld's　three　remaining　adversaries　manhandled　their　shadowshrouded　kinsman　out　of　their　way　and　stalked　forward；　manifestly　hoping　to　pin　the　fencing　teacher　against　the　wall。　The　one　on　the　left　hung　back　a　bit；　none　too　eager；　but　he　didn't　look　as　if　he'd　actually　turn　and　run　unless　Tathlyn　told　him　to；　or　else　he　saw　the　weapons　master　himself　go　down　under　Splitter's　razor　edge。
Ryld　had　no　intention　of　letting　himself　be　trapped。　He　moved　away　from　the　wall　the　same　way　he'd　moved　up　to　it；　springing　onto　the　table　and　charging　across。
When　he　reached　the　far　edge；　he　discovered　a　rapier　poised　to　skewer　him　in　the　vitals　when　he　plunged　off。　The　Godeep　on　the　other　end　of　the　blade—the　bolder　of　Tathlyn's　two　kinsmen—was　quick；　and　he'd　conceived　a　pretty　good　tactic。　Ryld's　impetus　was　such　that　he　probably　wouldn't　have　been　able　to　stop　himself　from　hurtling　right　onto　the　Godeep's　point。
But　he　could　whirl　Splitter　through　a　sweeping　lowline　parry。　The　great　sword　clanked　into　the　other　male's　lighter　blade　and　snapped　the　last　six　inches　off。
Ryld　jumped　down　almost　on　top　of　the　rapier　fighter；　so　close　it　would　require　a　moment　to　bring　Splitter's　blade　to　bear；　a　moment　that　the　other　Godeeps　might　turn　to　good　advantage。　Instead；　the　weapons　master　bashed　the　great　sword's　heavy　steel　ball　of　a　pommel　into　the　center　of　the　rapierwielder's　forehead。　The　impact　thudded；　and　the　male　fell　backward。
Something　clacked　hard　but　harmlessly　against　Ryld's　breastplate。　He　glanced　down　and　saw　that　one　of　the　spectators；　someone　who'd　bet　on　his　opponents；　perhaps；　had　shot　a　hand　crossbow　at　him—but　the　weapons　master　didn't　have　time　to　look　for　the　culprit。　He　had　to　pivot　to　fend　off　his　fellow　swordsmen。
Predictably；　Tathlyn　was　in　the　lead。　Ryld　cut　at　the　weapons　master's　head；　and　his　erstwhile　student　instantly　backpedaled；　retreating　just　far　enough　to　avoid　the　stroke。　He'd　learned　good　footwork　somewhere　along　the　way；　better　than　Ryld　remembered。
Slipping　in　and　out　of　the　distance；　Tathlyn　feinted　and　invited；　putting　on　a　show。　Meanwhile；　the　other　Godeep；　the　wary　one；　circled；　trying　to　get　behind　Ryld。
The　weapons　master　allowed　the　boy　to　creep　part　way　round　to　his　flank；　then　he　sprang　at　Tathlyn　and　cut　wildly；　seemingly　offbalance　and　over　mitted　to　the　attack。
The　other　Godeep　had　Ryld's　back；　at　a　moment　when　the　teacher　looked　entirely　incapable　of　turning　and　defending。　Reluctant　or　not；　the　boy　couldn't　pass　up　such　an　opportunity。　He　charged。
Ryld　whirled；　bringing　Splitter　around　in　a　sweeping　horizontal　stroke。　The　greatsword　with　its　superior　length　struck　one　step　before　the　Godeep　would　have　initiated　his　own　attack。　Thanks　to　Ryld's　deftness；　the　huge；　preternaturally　sharp　blade　merely　gashed　the　boy's　wrist　instead　of　lopping　off　his　hand。　The　petty　noble　dropped　his　broadsword；　then　had　the　bad　judgment　to　reach　for　his　dagger。　The　weapons　master　slashed　his　leg；　tumbling　him　to　the　floor。
Ryld　knew　that　by　spinning　to　attack　the　one　Godeep；　he　had　given　his　back　to　Tathlyn；　who　was　surely　driving　in　to　kill　him。　The　teacher　whirled　back　around。　Sure　enough；　Tathlyn　had　rushed　into　the　distance　and　was　cutting　at　his　head。　Ryld　parried　with　Splitter's　edge；　hoping　to　snap　the　Godeep　weapons　master's　long　sword　as　he　had　the　rapier。　The　crimson　blade　struck　the　great　sword　on　the　forte；　just　above　the　parrying　hook；　rang；　and　rebounded；　still　in　one　piece。　It　was　made　of　good　metal；　Ryld　thought；　well　fed；　with　strengthening　enchantments　woven　in。
But　its　virtues　alone　couldn't　save　its　master。　Ryld　feinted　low　to　draw　the　red　sword　down；　then　cut　high。　Splitter　sliced　Tathlyn's　brow；　and　blood　poured　into　the　Godeep　weapons　master's　eyes。　He　reeled　backward。
Ryld　could　tell　that　none　of　his　adversaries　had　any　fight　left　in　them。　He　turned　once　more；　surveying　the　room。　Whoever　had　shot　him；　the　fellow　had　prudently　put　his　hand　crossbow　away。
〃Nicely　done；〃　said　Pharaun；　lounging；　goblet　in　hand；　by　the　bar。
〃How　long　have　you　been　there？〃　Ryld　replied；　walking　to　retrieve　his　short　sword。　Its　victim　had　pulled　it　free　and　left　it　on　the　floor。　〃You　could　have　helped　me。〃
〃I　was　too　busy　wagering　on　you。〃　The　wizard　held　out　his　purse；　and　grumbling　losers　dropped　coins　into　it。　〃I　knew　you　wouldn't　need　help　against　a　couple　drunks。〃
Ryld　grunted；　wiped　his　weapons　on　a　handy　bar　rag；　and　asked；　〃Do　you　want　that　red　sword？　It's　a　good　weapon。　Maybe　a　Godeep　family　heirloom。〃
Pharaun　grinned。　〃Which　would　mean　they　acquired　it　when；　last　tenday？　No；　thank　you　anyway；　but　what　would　a　spell　caster　do　with　it？　Besides；　I　wouldn't　want　the　weight　to　stretch　and　chafe　my　clothes。〃
〃Suit　yourself。〃
The　Master　of　Sorcere　sauntered　up　to　Ryld；　then　spoke　far　more　softly。　〃Are　you　about　ready　to　go？　I'd　just　as　soon　take　my　leave　before　Nym　wanders　downstairs。〃
Ryld　wondered　what　mischief　his　friend　had　mitted。　〃Almost；〃　he　said。　〃Give　Nym　something　to　pay　for　the　cleanup。〃
The　warrior　walked　to　the　sava　tables；　retrieved　Splitter's　scabbard　and　his　own　winnings；　then　looked　around　for　the　trader。　The　boy　had　made　a　hasty　withdrawal　from　the　table　the　instant　the　fight　began；　but　he　hadn't　gone　far。　Most　every　drow　had　a　taste　for　blood　sport。
Ryld　tossed　him　a　gold　coin　with　the　Baenre　emblem　stamped　on　it。　〃Here　are　your　winnings。〃
The　young　merchant　looked　puzzled。　Perhaps　the　drink　was　to　blame。
〃If　a　player　disturbs　the　arrangement　of　the　board；　he　loses；〃　Ryld　explained。　〃It's　in　the　rules。〃
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〃It　was　gratifying　to　e　upstairs　and　observe　you　handling　our　confidential　inquiries　with　your　usual　light　touch；〃　Pharaun　said。
He　paused　to　let　a　float　chest；　attended　by　a　dark　elf　merchant　and　six　hulking　bugbear　slaves；　drift　across　the　lane。　The　stone　box　looked　like　a　sarcophagus。　Maybe　it　was。　In　the　Bazaar；　a　shopper　could　purchase　nearly　anything；　including　cadavers　and　mummies　once　embalmed　with　strange　spices　and　laid　to　rest　with　mystic　rites。　Indeed；　such　wares　were　available　either　whole　or　by　the　desiccated　piece。
〃It　wasn't　my　fault；〃　Ryld　replied。　〃I　did　nothing　to　provoke　that　fight。〃　He　hesitated。　〃Well；　perhaps　I　was　a　bit　brusque　when　the　Godeeps　first　stalked　up　to　the　table。〃
〃You？　Never〃
〃Spare　me　your　japes。　Why　do　we　have　to　question　people　anyway？〃　The　Master　of　MeleeMagthere　ducked　beneath　the　corner　of　a　lowhanging　rothehide　awning　and　added；　〃You　ought　to　be　able　to　look　in　a　scrying　pool　and　find　the　runaways。〃
Pharaun　smiled。　〃Where　would　be　the　fun　in　that？　Now　seriously；　why　did　the　Godeeps　take　exception　to　your　no　doubt　impeccably　subtle　questions　in　the　first　place？　Were　they　in　league　with　the　rogues？〃
〃I　don't　think　they　knew　anything。　I　think　they　were　merely　sympathetic　to　the　idea　of　eloping　and　generally　in　a　foul　mood。　It　looked　as　if　one　of　the　females　in　House　Godeep　had　disciplined　them　with　her　fists　or　a　cudgel；　and　they　only　needed　an　excuse　to　try　and　take　their　resentment　out　on　someone。〃
〃This　hypothetical　priestess　beat　the　House　weapons　master　as　if　he　were　a　thrall；　or　at　best；　the　least　useful　of　her　male　kin？　Doesn't　that　strike　you　as　odd？〃
〃Now　that　you　mention　it；　somewhat。〃
〃The　Jewel　Box　was　unusually　crowded　today　as　well。〃
Pharaun　noticed　a　blindfolded　orc　juggling　daggers　for　the　amusement　of　the　crowd　and　paused　for　a　moment　to　watch　the　show。　Ryld　heaved　a　sigh；　signaling　his　impatience　at　the　interruption　in　their　deliberations。
The　wizard　counted　five　sharp　knives；　which　the　slave's　scarred　hands　caught　and　tossed　with　flawless　accuracy。　A　laudable　performance；　even　if　it　lacked　a　certain　elan。　Pharaun　tossed　a　coin　to　the　orc's　owner；　then　strolled　on。　Ryld　tramped　along　beside　him。
〃So；〃　said　the　weapons　master；　〃Tathlyn　gets　a　thrashing；　the　brothel　enjoys　a　glut　of　patrons；　and　you　see　a　connection。　What？〃
〃What　if　all　those　boys　endured　a　beating；　or　at　least　some　sort　of　unpleasantness；　at　the　hands　of　their　female　relations？　What　if　that's　the　reason　they　flocked　to　their　sad　little　sanctuary；　to　lie　low；　lick　their　wounds；　and　kick　around　one　of　Nym's　captives　in　their　turn？〃
Ryld　frowned；　pondering　the　notion。　〃You're　guessing　that　priestesses　in　a　diversity　of　Houses　have　grown　more　harsh　and　unreasonable。　Obviously；　that　could　provoke　a　spate　of　runaway　males；　but　what　could　make　the　dispositions　of　all　those　priestesses　curdle　in　unison？〃
〃I　have　a　hunch　that　when　we　figure　that　out；　we'll　be　getting　somewhere。〃
The　two　masters　circled　around　a　colossal　snail　pulling　a　dozenwheeled　cart。　The　creature's　mouth　opened　into　an　O　and　Pharaun—who　had　once　only　narrowly　survived　an　encounter　with　such　a　giant　mollusk　in　the　wild—nearly　sacrificed　his　dignity　by　flinching；　even　though　he　knew　this　particular　specimen　had　undoubtedly　been　divested　of　its　ability　to　spew　a　caustic　sludge。　Sure　enough；　nothing　flew　from　the　draft　creature's　maw　except　a　few　clear；　harmless　droplets。　The　Wagoner　lashed　the　hostile　snail　with　his　longhandled　whip。
〃What　did　you　learn　downstairs？〃　asked　Ryld。
〃Nothing；　really；〃　said　Pharaun；　〃nothing　we　hadn't　already　inferred。　Still；　I　was　able　to　oblige　an　old　rade。　That　was　pleasant　in　its　own　way。〃
〃If　neither　of　us　discovered　anything　substantial；　our　visit　to　the　Jewel　Box　was　a　waste　of　time。〃
〃Not　a　bit　of　it。　The　bloodshed　perked　you　up；　didn't　it？　You've　pretty　much　been　smiling　ever　since。〃
〃Don't　be　ridiculous。　I　admit　it　was　an　interesting　little　scuffle　。　。　。〃
Ryld　began　to　recount　the　battle　one　action　at　a　time；　with　prehensive　analysis　of　the　alternative　options　and　underlying　strategy。　Pharaun　nodded　and　did　his　best　to　look　interested。
　
Triel；　Matron　Mother　of　House　Baenre　and　a　diminutive　ebony　doll　of　a　dark　elf；　marched　briskly　down　the　corridor；　covering　ground　rapidly　despite　her　short　stride。　Eight　feet　tall；　his　two　goat　like　legs　more　nimble　even　than　most　drow's；　Jeggred　had　no　difficulty　keeping　up　with　his　mother。　The　scurrying；　frazzled　drow　secretary；　though；　looked　as　if　she　was　in　imminent　danger　of　dropping　her　armload　of　parchment。　When　Triel　heard　voices　conversing　a　few　yards　ahead；　she　wanted　to　move　faster　still。　Only　a　sense　that　a　female　in　her　august　position　ought　not　to　promise　her　dignity　by　running　held　the　impulse　in　check。
〃I　think　it's　a　test；〃　said　one　soft　female　voice。
〃I　worry　it's　a　sign　of　disfavor；〃　answered　the　other；　a　hair　deeper　and　a　bit　nasal。　〃Perhaps　we've　done　something　to　offend—〃
Triel　and　her　panions　rounded　a　corner。　There　before　them　loitered　a　pair　of　her　cousins。　Their　mouths　fell　open　when　they　saw　her。
Triel　looked　up　at　her　son's　face；　which；　with　its　slightly　elongated　muzzle；　mouthful　of　long；　pointed　fangs；　slanted　eyes；　and　pointed　ears；　seemed　a　blend　of　drow　and　wolf。　That　wordless　glance　sufficed　to　convey　her　will。
Jeggred　pounced；　his　long；　coarse　mane　streaming　out　behind　him。　With　each　of　his　huge；　clawed　fighting　hands；　he　grabbed　a　cousin　by　the　throat　and　hoisted　her　up　against　the　calcite　wall。　His　two　smaller；　drowlike　hands　flexed　as　if　they　too　wished　to　get　in　on　the　violence。
Perhaps　they　did。
Triel　had　conceived　a　child　in　a　ritual　coupling　with　the　glabrezu　demon　Belshazu。　The　result　was　Jeggred；　a　halffiend　known　as　a　draegloth；　a　precious　gift　of　the　Spider　Queen。　His　mother　was　quite　prepared　to　believe　that　cruelty　and　bloodlust　burned　in　every　mote　and　particle　of　his　being。　Only　his　reflexive　subservience；　tendered　not　because　Triel　had　borne　him　but　because　she　was　first　among　the　priestesses　of　Lolth；　kept　him　from　immediately　slaughtering　his　prisoners；　or；　indeed；　pretty　much　anyone　else　with　whom　he　came　in　contact。
Occasionally　Triel's　lack　of　height　was　an　advantage。　It　didn't　feel　awkward　or　claustrophobic　to　step　inside　the　circle　of　Jeggred's　two　longer　arms　and　stand　before　the　cousins。　Up　close；　she　could　smell　the　sweat　of　their　fear　just　as　easily　as　she　could　hear　the　little　choking　sounds　they　were　making　or　the　thuds　as　their　heels　bumped　against　the　carved　surface　behind　them。
〃I　forbade　you　to　speak　of　the　situation　in　public；〃　she　snarled。
The　cousin　on　the　left　started　making　more　noise；　a　tortured　gargling。　Perhaps　she　was　trying　to　say　that　she　and　the　other　one　had　been　alone。
〃This　is　a　public　part　of　the　castle；〃　Triel　said。　〃Anyone；　any　male　might　have　e　along　and　overheard　you。〃　She　swung　her　whip　of　fangs；　aiming　low　to　ensure　she　didn't　accidentally　lash　Jeggred's　hands　or　arms。　The　five　writhing　adders　gashed　their　targets　but　not　enough　to　satisfy　their　mistress。　She　struck　again　and　again。　Her　anger　rose　and　rose　until　it　became　a　kind　of　rapture；　a　sweet　simplicity　in　which　nothing　existed　but　the　cousins'　thrashing；　the　smell　and　feel　of　their　blood　spattering　her　face；　and　the　pleasant　exertion　of　her　snapping　arm。
She　never　knew　what　brought　her　out　of　that　joyous　condition。　Perhaps　it　was　simply　that　she　was　winded；　but　when　she　came　to　her　senses；　the　two　babblers　were　dangling　limp　and　silent　in　Jeggred's　grip。
Both　the　draegloth　and　the　scribe　were　smiling。　They'd　thoroughly　enjoyed　the　cousins'　excruciating　torture；　but　there　were　things　still　to　be　done；　and　she'd　wasted　time　losing　her　temper。
Which　was　bad。　Matron　Mother　Baenre；　de　facto　ruler　of　the　entire　city　of　Menzoberranzan；　should　be　able　to　govern　herself　as　well。
Triel's　emotional　volatility　was　of　paratively　recent　origin。　She'd　been　calm　and　petent　all　the　while　she　served　as　Mistress　of　ArachTinilith。　That　role；　arguably　second　only　to　her　mother's　in　prestige；　had　suited　her　well；　and　she'd　never　aspired　to　anything　more。
Nor　had　she　truly　believed　that　more　was　even　possible。　Her　mother　seemed　immortal。　Indestructible。　But　then；　suddenly；　she　was　gone；　and　the　ambition　that　at　one　time　or　another　goaded　every　dark　elf　awoke　in　Triel's　breast。　How　could　she　not　strive　to　ascend　to　her　mother's　throne？　How　could　she　let　Quenthel　or　one　of　her　other　kin　climb　over　her　h