Read Online R.A. Salvatore's War of the Spider Queen: Dissolution, Insurrection, Condemnation by Richard Lee & Reid Byers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Richard Lee & Reid Byers
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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 she-demon 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 accompanies 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 sixty-six layers of the Abyss,” said Waerva, “what ails you? If you’re having second 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.”
“Come 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
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 accompanies 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 sixty-six layers of the Abyss,” said Waerva, “what ails you? If you’re having second 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.”
“Come 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
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