“I am pleased that you answered my call,” Matron Mother Zhindia said to her guests, and she motioned for the visiting Hunzrins to sit around the small, rectangular table, as Kyrnill took her place to the right of her matron mother.
“You insisted that your information was important to my family,” Shakti Hunzrin replied. “And my prayers to the Spider Queen assured my safety.”
“Indeed, to both,” Zhindia replied. “You are aware of the events in Q’Xorlarrin?”
“That the dwarves reclaimed their complex and expelled Matron Mother Zeerith?”
“Yes, and the present disposition of Matron Mother Zeerith and her family?”
“Her powerful family,” Shakti remarked.
“Her heretical family,” Kyrnill corrected with a sneer.
The remark surprised the Hunzrin guests. By all estimates, House Melarn was in no position to engage powerful House Xorlarrin, even if Matron Mother Zeerith’s family had been wounded by the advance of the dwarves.
“You are pleased by this development, no doubt,” Matron Mother Zhindia said bluntly.
Matron Mother Shakti stared at her counterpart curiously, with more than a little trepidation. She wasn’t about to admit to any such thing, particularly given House Xorlarrin’s close alliance with House Baenre.
“It is no secret that House Hunzrin feared the creation of the city of Q’Xorlarrin,” the always blunt and brutal Zhindia stated. “City,” she said again, and she spat upon the floor. “It was a servile satellite of House Baenre, of course, created so that House Baenre could take from you the most profitable trade to be found.”
“The point is moot. Q’Xorlarrin is no more,” said Matron Mother Shakti, and she nudged her daughter under the table, warning the volatile Charri against saying something they might both regret.
“But did Matron Mother Baenre lose?” Zhindia Melarn asked slyly.
“She sent the demons forth, and the demons were defeated by the dwarves, so say the reports.”
“And so the dwarves reclaim Gauntlgrym, and fire anew the Great Forge,” Zhindia agreed. “But these particular dwarves are known associates of Jarlaxle and Bregan D’aerthe.”
Despite her great and practiced discipline, Shakti Hunzrin couldn’t help but fidget at the mention of Jarlaxle. Bregan D’aerthe had long been a thorn in the side of ide of House Hunzrin and a threat to Shakti’s plans for trade dominance beyond Menzoberranzan. Bregan D’aerthe’s loyalty to House Baenre could not be doubted.
“Your easiest route to the World Above is no more,” Zhindia said. “Your caravans will not get past the armies of the dwarves. But if Jarlaxle is able to secure an agreement between House Baenre and the new kingdom of Gauntlgrym …”
She let it hang there, tantalizingly.
“The Spider Queen would abandon her,” Shakti said, because she really had no other retort.
“Are you going to tell her that?” Zhindia asked with a laugh.
Shakti stared at her hard. “Among all the Matron Mothers of Menzoberranzan, are you not the one who claims closest communion with the Spider Queen?” she asked very seriously. “Would Lolth accept such a move by Matron Mother Baenre?”
“The same Matron Mother Baenre who instituted a darthiir, a wretched elf, as a matron mother with a seat on the Ruling Council?” Zhindia countered. “Who put Matron Mother Do’Urden ahead of you on the ladder of Menzoberranzan’s hierarchy?”
“Your insults are uncalled for,” Charri Hunzrin remarked.
“No insult,” said Zhindia. “Simple truth, and unpleasant to both of us. Perhaps, though, this abomination Matron Mother Do’Urden is a test, not for Quenthel Baenre but for the rest of us. Do we allow the darthiir to continue as a voice on the Ruling Council?”
“Or do we tear her down?” asked Shakti. “We are back to this, then. Did we not just see this play with the demon assault on House Do’Urden? That failure strengthened Matron Mother Do’Urden’s reputation and strengthened Matron Mother Baenre’s hand.”
“So you are accepting of an agreement between Matron Mother Baenre and Bregan D’aerthe to move goods through the dwarven city?”
“I do not believe that such an agreement exists.”
“Oh, it exists,” Matron Mother Zhindia said confidently. “Jarlaxle’s influence is clear to see, and who would benefit more from such an agreement than that opportunist heretic mercenary and his filthy band of male rogues?”
The leader of House Melarn turned to the side and motioned to a drider guard, who put a hand against a concealed plunger on the wall and pressed. Unseen stones slid and a secret door fell open. To Shakti and Charri’s surprise and fear, an impressive drow female strode out from the darkness. She wore the robes of a high priestess, indeed those of a First Priestess of a House, and her emblem was well known.
Kiriy Xorlarrin, Matron Mother Shakti’s fingers signed to her daughter.
The newcomer moved to the table, summoned a magical disc—a circle of blue light hanging in the air at about waist height—and sat down upon it.
“We were speaking of male rogues,” Matron Mother Zhindia said.
“A redundant description,” Kiriy replied, with no small amount of contempt behind her words.
The Hunzrin matron mother and daughter glanced at each other, somewhat confused. Wasn’t House Xorlarrin known as the House most lenient with, and most deferential to, its men? House Barrison Del’Armgo and House Xorlarrin had long been the two Menzoberranyr Houses known to promote men high into the House hierarchy, but with Barrison Del’Armgo, there had never been any doubt that the highest ranking male noble, usually the weapons master, remained subservient to the lowest of the high priestesses. In House Xorlarrin, such was not always the case.
“You know First Priestess Kiriy Xorlarrin,” Matron Mother Zhindia said, and the guests at her table nodded.
“I am soon to join House Do’Urden,” Kiriy informed them. “My sister, my brother, and many of the male cousins are already there, strengthening the ties between House Do’Urden and Sorcere.”
“And the ties with House Baenre,” Shakti dared to remark.
Kiriy snorted dismissively.
“Saribel, your sister, is presently the First Priestess of House Do’Urden, is she not?” Shakti pressed. “Will you displace her?”
“For a time.”
“You mean to become Matron Mother Do’Urden,” Shakti reasoned.
“And again, I may wear that title for a time, perhaps,” Kiriy replied. “And then I mean to destroy House Do’Urden and replace it with a reformed House Xorlarrin.”
“You plot against your own mother,” Shakti said sourly. She was looking straight at Matron Mother Zhindia as she made the remark, as if Zhindia should be ashamed of herself for even entertaining such a thought. Matricide was not well-received in Menzoberranzan, and particularly not welcomed at that moment, when Shakti sat in conference with her eldest and most powerful daughter seated right beside her.
Of course, Matron Mother Zhindia didn’t have that particular problem.
“Matron Mother Zeerith has traveled too far along the road of heresy,” Matron Mother Zhindia stated. “Too much influence has she given to mere males. This is not the way of Lolth.”
“Her sacrilege rained doom upon Q’Xorlarrin,” Kiriy added. “There was no proper order of things awaiting the demon army in our city, to keep them in line when Matron Mother Baenre sent them to us to defeat the dwarves. It was clear to me from the outset of the dwarven invasion—even before that, when so many of our House were killed in the far-off fields of the Silver Marches—that House Xorlarrin was losing the favor of the Spider Queen.”
“You will betray Matron Mother Zeerith,” Shakti said.
“She will not return to Menzoberranzan in any case!” Kiriy shouted. “I will save House Xorlarrin! We will not become an extension of Bregan D’aerthe, to be used at the whim of Matron Mother Baenre. I will never allow that. Our place is here, with an independent Matron Mother Xorlarrin sitting on
the Ruling Council.”
“I have asked you to accept a lot of startling information here,” Matron Mother Zhindia apologized to her Hunzrin guests.
“You have hinted at a daring plan,” Shakti replied. “One that pits us against Matron Mother Baenre and her cadre of powerful allies.”
“Not so!” Zhindia argued. “She is far too engrossed now in matters beyond the fate of House Do’Urden. The demon lords walk the ways of the Underdark, and in no small part because of the foolish actions of her own brother! Before the coming of Demogorgon, Matron Mother Baenre went to great lengths to fortify this phony House she has constructed, and so she expects them to stand on their own. Indeed, they must. Many others—House Barrison Del’Armgo and some of Matron Mother Baenre’s closest allies—are watching with wary eyes. Lolth will decide the fate of House Do’Urden, not the army of House Baenre.”
“And Lolth is surely with us,” Kiriy added.
After a long paused, Shakti replied to Zhindia, “Your claims are extraordinary.”
“Then I will prove them to you.”
Shakti nodded.
“I trust in your confidence in these matters until I can make my case fully to you,” Zhindia said. “And do understand that if I am correct in my suspicions—and I assure you that I am—any betrayal of me to Matron Mother Baenre will also provide her with the excuse she needs to sublimate your House. You came here, after all, willingly and alone in trust, to a known rival of House Do’Urden. And do not doubt that Matron Mother Baenre understands that Hunzrin demons were among the horde of fiends who attacked House Do’Urden.
“Waging war on House Melarn would bring a smile to the face of Matron Mother Quenthel Baenre, indeed,” Zhindia went on. “But how much wider might that smile grow if she has an excuse to eliminate both our families, stripping Matron Mother Mez’Barris Armgo of the only allies she might have in her attempt to keep House Baenre from complete domination?”
Shakti Hunzrin spent a long while staring hard at her counterpart.
Matron Mother Zhindia motioned to her daughter, who went to the side of the room and pulled a blanket aside, revealing a small chest. She hoisted it and carried it back to the gathering, placing it in front of Matron Mother Shakti.
“Open it,” Matron Mother Zhindia bade her. “But take care and do not handle any of the contents.”
With a wary look to her daughter, Shakti carefully pulled back the lid of the chest, revealing a pile of beautiful gemstones set in fabulous pieces of jewelry. Despite the warning, her hand drifted for one piece, a tiara of brilliant rubies.
“Do not,” Matron Mother Zhindia warned.
“What is this?” Shakti asked, and she closed the lid.
“A gift to you,” said Zhindia. “One of faith and continued goodwill between our Houses in this most important battle we wage.”
“Jewelry?”
“Goods for the World Above,” Zhindia explained. “I trust you can find some way to deliver them to the proper … merchants.”
“It is not our normal merchandise,” Shakti said. “We trade food and exotics—items of the Underdark. There is no shortage of gems and jewels on the surface.” She opened the coffer again and glanced in. “No doubt these have great value—they are very beautiful pieces. But these are not my usual wares, and it will be expensive and difficult for me to open proper channels to see them brought to market.”
Zhindia, Kiriy, and Kyrnill exchanged knowing, smug looks, and Shakti and Charri realized that they were apparently missing some inside joke.
“So you do not want the bounty?” Zhindia asked.
“I will take them, with my gratitude, Matron Mother Zhindia,” Shakti replied. “I will deliver them to the World Above and find a place to sell them. I only warn that the profit will be minimal.”
“They are more exquisite than you realize,” Kyrnill Melarn put in.
“Must everything be about coin?” Matron Mother Zhindia said.
Shakti looked at her curiously.
“Surely there are other reasons to ply your trade,” Zhindia added.
Now Shakti was completely at a loss. She looked to her daughter, who could only shrug in confusion.
“You will be doing the work of the Spider Queen,” Zhindia explained. “Those are not mere gemstones set in jewelry, Matron Mother Hunzrin. They are phylacteries, each possessing the spirit of a slain demon.”
Shakti’s eyes went wide and she opened the coffer again and peeked in, just for a moment, then closed it tight and put her hand on top of the lid to keep it closed.
“A nobleman or noblewoman wearing such a brooch, or necklace, or tiara, will come to find her thoughts darkened, her mind drawn to chaos, her soul possessed to demonic intent,” Matron Mother Zhindia said with great relish.
“Do you still think it a minor gift?” Kyrnill put in snidely.
“I will see these to the World Above,” Shakti said at length, her glare lingering on the former Matron Mother of House Kenafin. “For the glory of Lolth. As to the rest, your claims are extraordinary, as I have said. You see the Baenre alliance as fractured, and believe that our path to destroy Do’Urden is clear.”
“And that Lolth is on our side,” Kyrnill reminded her.
Shakti Hunzrin conceded the point with a nod. “It is often hard to discern the true intent of the Spider Queen.” As Zhindia clearly tensed up in response, Shakti pointed at the zealous matron mother and added, “Even for her most devout disciples. Yet I do not doubt that Lady Lolth would approve of our plans, should they come to pass.”
Matron Mother Zhindia relaxed and nodded.
“But as to the rest,” Shakti finished strongly, “bring me proof.” She motioned to her daughter, and the two wasted no time in departing the dungeons of the Melarni fanatics. All the way back to her own compound, Shakti mulled over the lack of choices available to her. The city of Q’Xorlarrin had posed a direct threat to the trade empire she had built, and she had not lamented the fall of Matron Mother Zeerith’s trial city.
House Do’Urden didn’t really matter to her. She didn’t care much about the formal ranking of her House. In fact, she considered her lower position to be an asset as she went about growing her riches and building dependence to her network among the other Houses.
But the ability to trade beyond the borders of the city, to bring exotic goods to the matron mothers and to market their wares in places full of riches, was not something Shakti Hunzrin would surrender without a fight. If the Baenres were truly intent on dominating trade to the surface, that was indeed a direct threat to the standing and purpose of House Hunzrin.
The question then was whether Matron Mother Baenre desired all of it—all of the power, and all of the commerce.
“NONE CAN KNOW that you are here,” Matron Mother Baenre said to her guest. “It would cause great upset in a city that is already reeling from the march of the Prince of Demons.”
She stared at Zeerith as she spoke, but the Matron Mother of House Xorlarrin was not looking back at her at all, and though she was nodding, it seemed to Quenthel as if Zeerith had hardly heard a word that she’d said.
Matron Mother Zeerith was distracted by the beautiful young woman sitting at the left end of the small table.
Not distracted, Quenthel silently corrected herself. Enchanted.
The young woman’s hair was smooth and thick, a startling white contrast to her coal-black skin. It curled teasingly between her perfect breasts, which were barely covered by the plunging cut of her soft purple dress, a simple silk affair that clung to her body’s every curve.
It took Quenthel a long while to realize that she too was staring hopelessly at the beautiful young woman.
“Who is this?” Matron Mother Zeerith practically demanded.
“The child of Gromph,” Quenthel replied, and she hoped that putting the now-deposed archmage’s name on Yvonnel would somehow lessen Zeerith’s trance.
Even still, a long while passed before Zeerith was able to turn back to Quen
thel. Even then it seemed as if Yvonnel herself had released Zeerith from the trance, as evidenced by a little giggle Yvonnel offered as Zeerith turned away.
“I did not know Gromph had—”
“And Minolin Fey, of House Fey-Branche,” Yvonnel interrupted, an incredible breach of etiquette.
Zeerith’s face screwed up with confusion as she swung back to view the young woman, who was surely near twenty years of age, if not older. Zeerith had known about Minolin’s pregnancy. The visitation of the avatar of Lolth upon House Fey-Branche in the Festival of the Founding was common gossip that had followed House Xorlarrin across the Underdark. Zeerith knew that Minolin Fey was now in House Baenre—she had seen the high priestess while being escorted through the royal chambers to come to this very audience.
“The child of Gromph and Minolin Fey?” Zeerith asked Quenthel.
“Yes,” Yvonnel answered, again out of turn, and this time interrupting the matron mother as Quenthel began to answer.
“She is an impetuous sort,” Quenthel said dryly, and cast a glance at the young woman.
“And a distracting one,” Quenthel added when she saw that Zeerith’s eyes were once again held by the young woman.
“Yes,” Zeerith said absently.
“May I go, Matron Mother?” Yvonnel asked.
“Please do,” Quenthel replied, trying to sound sweet.
Yvonnel rose and Zeerith’s eyes rose with her. Much of her leg slipped free from the high slit in her simple but elegant gown, and Zeerith gave a little gasp as she spun away and moved to the room’s door.
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