Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(13)

The Faceless One’s chest jerkedout suddenly, and he shuddered in convulsions, babbling curses in a tongue far beyond the terrified student’s comprehension. What vile spell did this disfigured master have prepared for him, so wretched that its chant sounded in an arcane language foreign to learned Alton’s ears, so unspeakably evil that its semantics jerked on the very edge of its caster’s control? The Faceless One then fell forward to the floor and expired.

Stunned, Alton followed the line of the master’s hood down to his back to the tail of a protruding dart. Alton watched the poisoned thing as it continued to shudder from the body’s impact, then he turned his scan upward to the center of the room, where the young cleaning attendant stood calmly.

“Nice weapon, Faceless One!” Masoj beamed, rolling a two-handed, crafted crossbow over in his hands. He threw a wicked smile at Alton and fitted another dart.

Matron Malice hoisted herself out of her chair and willed herself to her feet. “Out of the way!” she snapped at her daughters.

Maya and Vierna scooted away from the spider idol and the baby. “See his eyes, Matron Mother,” Vierna dared to remark. “They are so unusual.”

Matron Malice studied the child. Everything seemed in place, and a good thing, too, for Nalfein, elderboy of House Do’Urden, was dead, and this boy, Drizzt, would have a difficult job replacing the valuable son.

“His eyes,” Vierna said again. The matron shot her a venomous look but bent low to see what the fuss was about.

“Purple?” Malice said, startled. Never had she heard of such a thing. “He is not blind,” Maya was quick to put in, seeing the disdain spreading across her mother’s face. “Fetch the candle,” Matron Malice ordered. “Let us see how these eyes appear in the world of light.”

Maya and Vierna reflexively headed for the sacred cabinet, but Briza cut them off. “Only a high priestess may touch the holy items,” she reminded them in a tone that carried the weight of a threat. She spun around haughtily, reached into the cabinet, and produced a single half-used red candle. The clerics hid their eyes and Matron Malice put a prudent hand over the baby’s face as Briza lit the sacred candle. It produced only a tiny flame, but to drow eyes it came as a brilliant intrusion.

“Bring it,” said Matron Malice after several moments of adjusting.

Briza moved the candle near Drizzt, and Malice gradually slid her hand away.

“He does not cry,” Briza remarked, amazed that the babe could quietly accept such a stinging light.

“Purple again,” whispered the matron, paying no heed to her daughter’s rambling. “In both worlds, the child’s eyes show as purple.”

Vierna gasped audibly when she looked again upon her tiny brother and his striking lavender orbs.

“He is your brother,” Matron Malice reminded her, viewing Vierna’s gasp as a hint of what might come. “When he grows older and those eyes pierce you so, remember, on your life, that he is your brother.”

Vierna turned away, almost blurting a reply she would have regretted making. Matron Malice’s exploits with nearly every male soldier of the Do’Urden house and many others that the seductive matron managed to sneak away from other houses-were almost legendary in Menzoberranzan. Who was she to be spouting reminders of prudent and proper behavior? Vierna bit her lip and hoped that neither Briza nor Malice had been reading her thoughts at that moment.

In Menzoberranzan, thinking such gossip about a high priestess, whether or not it was true, got you painfully executed.

Her mother’s eyes narrowed, and Vierna thought she had been discovered. “He is yours to prepare,” Matron Malice said to her.

“Maya is younger,” Vierna dared to protest. “I could attain the level of high priestess in but a few years if I may keep to my studies.”

“Or never,” the matron sternly reminded her. “Take the child to the chapel proper. Wean him to words and teach him all that he will need to know to properly serve as a page prince of House Do’Urden.”

“I will see to him,” Briza offered, one hand subconsciously slipping to her snake-headed whip. “I do so enjoy teaching males their place in our world.”

Malice glared at her. “You are a high priestess. You have other duties more important than word-weaning a male child,” Then to Vierna, she said, “The babe is yours; do not disappoint me in this! The lessons you teach Drizzt will reinforce your own understanding of our ways. This exercise at ‘mothering’ will aid you in your quest to become a high priestess,” She let Vierna take a moment to view the task in a more positive light, then her tone became unmistakably threatening once again. “It may aid you, but it surely can destroy you!”

Vierna sighed but kept her thoughts silent. The chore that Matron Malice had dropped on her shoulders would consume the bulk of her time for at least ten years. Vierna didn’t like the prospects, she and this purple eyed child together for ten long years. The alternative, however, the wrath of Matron Malice Do’Urden, seemed a worse thing by far. Alton blew another web from his mouth. “You are just e boy, an apprentice,” he stammered. “Why would YOu-?”

“Kill him?” Masoj finished the thought.

“Not to save you, if that is your hope,” He spat down at the Faceless One’s body. “Look at me, a prince of the sixth house, a cleaning steward for that wretched-.”