Robert Salvatore: Exile

“You do not belong in this place!” Malice protested, her slender fists clenched at her side. She considered the possibilities of attacking her rival there and then, of throttling SiNafay with her own hands.

“Be at ease, Malice,” SiNafay remarked casually. “I am here by the invitation of Matron Baenre, as are you.”

The mention of Matron Baenre and the reminder of where they were calmed Malice considerably. One did not act out of sorts in the chapel of House Baenre! Malice moved to the opposite end of the circular dais and took a seat, her gaze never leaving the smugly smiling face of SiNafay Hun’ett.

After a few interminable moments of silence, Malice had to speak her mind. “It was House Hun’ett that attacked my family in the last dark of Narbondel,” she said. “I have many witnesses to the fact. There can be no doubt!”

“None,” SiNafay replied, her agreement catching Malice off her guard.

“You admit the deed?” she balked.

“Indeed,” said SiNafay. “Never have I denied it.”

“Yet you live,” Malice sneered. “The laws of Menzoberranzan demand justice upon you and your house.”

“Justice?” SiNafay laughed at the absurd notion. Justice had never been more than a facade and a means of keeping the pretense of order in chaotic Menzoberranzan. “I acted as the Spider Queen demanded of me.”

“If the Spider Queen approved of your methods, you would have been victorious,” Malice reasoned.

“Not so,” interrupted another voice. Malice and SiNafay turned about just as Matron Baenre magically appeared, sitting comfortably in the chair farthest back on the dais.

Malice wanted to scream out at the withered matron mother, both for spying on her conversation and for apparently refuting her claims against SiNafay. Malice had managed to survive the dangers of Menzoberranzan for five hundred years, though, primarily because she understood the implications of angering one such as Matron Baenre.

“I claim the rights of accusation against House Hun’ett,” she said calmly.

“Granted,” replied Matron Baenre. “As you have said, and as SiNafay agreed, there can be no doubt.”

Malice turned triumphantly on SiNafay, but the matron mother of House Hun’ett still sat relaxed and unconcerned.

“Then why is she here?” Malice cried, her tone edged in explosive violence. “SiNafay is an outlaw. She―”

“We have not argued against your words,” Matron Baenre interrupted. “House Hun’ett attacked and failed. The penalties for such a deed are well known and agreed upon, and the ruling council will convene this very day to see that justice is carried through.”

“Then why is SiNafay here?” Malice demanded.

“Do you doubt the wisdom of my attack?” SiNafay asked Malice, trying to keep a chuckle under her breath.

“You were defeated,” Malice reminded her matter-of-factly. “That alone should provide your answer:’

“Lloth demanded the attack,” said Matron Baenre.

“Why, then, was House Hun’ett defeated?” Malice asked stubbornly. “If the Spider Queen―”

“I did not say that the Spider Queen had imbued her blessings upon House Hun’ett,” Matron Baenre interrupted, somewhat crossly. Malice shifted back in her seat, remembering her place and her predicament.

“I said only that Lloth demanded the attack,” Matron Baenre continued. “For ten years all of Menzoberranzan has suffered the spectacle of your private war. The intrigue and excitement wore away long ago, let me assure you both. It had to be decided.”

“And it was,” declared Malice, rising from her seat. “House Do’Urden has proven victorious, and I claim the rights of accusation against SiNafay Hun’ett and her family!”

“Sit down, Malice,” SiNafay said. “There is more to this than your simple rights of accusation.”

Malice looked to Matron Baenre for confirmation, though, considering the present situation, she could not doubt SiNafay’s words.

“It is done,” Matron Baenre said to her. “House Do’Urden has won, and House Hun’ett will be no more.”

Malice fell back into her seat, smiling smugly at SiNafay. Still, though, the matron mother of House Hun’ett did not seem the least bit concerned.

“I will watch the destruction of your house with great pleasure,” Malice assured her rival. She turned to Baenre. “When will punishment be exacted?”

“It is already done,” Matron Baenre replied mysteriously.

“SiNafay lives!” Malice cried.

“No,” the withered matron mother corrected. “She who was SiNafay Hun’ett lives.”

Now Malice was beginning to understand. House Baenre had always been opportunistic. Could it be that Matron Baenre was stealing the high priestesses of House Hun’ett to add to her own collection?

“You will shelter her?” Malice dared to ask.

“No,” Matron Baenre replied evenly. “That task will fall to you.”

Malice’s eyes went wide. Of all the many duties she had ever been appointed in her days as a high priestess of Lloth, she could think of none more distasteful. “She is my enemy! You ask that I give her shelter?”

“She is your daughter,” Matron Baenre shot back. Her tone softened and a wry smile cracked her thin lips. “Your oldest daughter, returned from travels to Ched Nasad, or some other city of our kin.”

“Why are you doing this?” Malice demanded. “It is unprecedented!”

“Not completely correct,” replied Matron Baenre. Her fingers tapped together out in front of her while she sank back within her thoughts, remembering some of the strange consequences of the endless line of battles within the drow city.

“Outwardly, your observations are correct,” she continued to explain to Malice. “But surely you are wise enough to know that many things occur behind the appearances in

Menzoberranzan. House Hun’ett must be destroyed―that cannot be changed―and all of the nobles of House Hun’ett must be slaughtered. It is, after all, the civilized thing to do.” She paused a moment to ensure that Malice was fully comprehending the meaning of her next statement. “They must appear, at least, to be slaughtered.”

“And you will arrange this?” Malice asked.

“I already have,” Matron Baenre assured her.

“But what is the purpose?”

“When House Hun’ett initiated its attack against you, did you call upon the Spider Queen in your struggles?” Matron Baenre asked bluntly.

The question startled Malice, and the expected answer upset her more than a little.

“And when House Hun’ett was repelled,” Matron Baenre went on coldly, “did you give praise to the Spider Queen? Did you call upon a handmaiden of Lloth in your moment of victory, Malice Do’Urden?”

“Am I on trial here?” Malice cried. “You know the answer, Matron Baenre.” She looked at SiNafay uncomfortably as she replied, fearing that she might be giving some valued information away. “You are aware of my situation concerning the Spider Queen. I dare not summon a yochlol until I have seen some sign that I have regained Lloth’s favor.”

“And you have seen no sign,” SiNafay remarked.

“None other than the defeat of my rival,” Malice growled back at her.

“That was not a sign from the Spider Queen,” Matron Baenre assured them both. “Lloth did not involve herself in your struggles. She only demanded that they be finished.”

“Is she pleased at the outcome?” Malice asked bluntly.

“That is yet to be determined,” replied Matron Baenre.

“Many years ago, Lloth made clear her desires that Malice Do’Urden sit upon the ruling council. Beginning with the next light of Narbondel, it shall be so:’

Malice’s chin rose with pride.