Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(33)

“No!” Alton cried. He stopped short, realizing hat he had interrupted a matron mother, a crime that could invoke a punishment of death.

SiNafay held back her angry urges. “This question must be very important for you to act so foolishly,” she said.

“Please,” Alton begged. “I must know. Kill me if you will, but tell me first who it was.”

SiNafay liked his courage, and his obsession could only prove of value to her. “House Do’Urden,” she said.

“Do’Urden ?” Alton echoed, hardly believing that a house so far back in the city hierarchy could have defeated House DeVir.

“You will take no actions against them,” Matron SiNafay warned. “And I will forgive your insolence-this time. You are a son of House Hun’ett now; remember always your place!” She let it stay at that, knowing that one who had been clever enough to carry out such a deception for the better part of two decades would not be foolish enough to disobey the matron mother of his house.

“Come Masoj,” SiNafay said to her son, “let us leave this one alone so that he may consider his new identity.”

“I must tell you, Matron SiNafay,” Masoj dared to say as he and his mother made their way out of Sorcere, “Alton DeVir is a buffoon. He might bring harm to House Hun’ett.”

“He survived the fall of his own house,” SiNafay replied, “and has played through the ruse as the Faceless One for nineteen years. A buffoon? Perhaps, but a resourceful buffoon at the least.”

Masoj unconsciously rubbed the area of his eyebrow that had never grown back. “I have suffered the antics of Alton DeVir for all these years,” he said. “He does have a fair share of luck, I admit, and can get himself out of trouble-though he is usually the one who puts himself into it!”

“Do not fear,” SiNafay laughed. “Alton brings value to our house.”

“What can we hope to gain?”

“He is a master of the Academy,” SiNafay replied. “He gives me eyes where I now need them,” She stopped her son and turned him to face her so that he might understand the implications of her every word. “Alton DeVir’s claim against House Do’Urden may work in our favor. He was a noble of the house, with rights of accusation.”

“You mean to use Alton DeVir’s charge to rally the great houses into punishing House Do’Urden?” Masoj asked.

“The great houses would hardly be willing to strike out for an incident that occurred almost twenty years ago,” SiNafay replied. “House Do’Urden executed House DeVir’s destruction nearly to perfection--a clean kill. To so much as speak an open charge against the Do’Urdens now would be to invite the wrath of the great houses on ourselves.”

“What good then is Alton DeVir?” Masoj asked. “His claim is useless to us.”

The matron replied, “You are only a male and cannot understand the complexities of the ruling hierarchy. With Alton DeVir’s charge whispered into the proper ears, the ruling council might look the other way if a single house took revenge on Alton’s behalf.”

“To what end?” Masoj remarked, not understanding the importance. “You would risk the losses of such a battle for the destruction of a lesser house?”

“So thought House DeVir of House Do’Urden,” explained SiNafay. “In our w orld, we must be as concerned with the lower houses as with the higher ones. All of the great houses would be wise now to watch closely the moves of Daermon N’a’shezbaernon, the ninth house that is known as Do’Urden. It now has both a master and a mistress serving in the Academy and three high priestesses, with a fourth nearing the goal.”

“Four high priestesses?” Masoj pondered. “In a single house.” Only three of the top eight houses could claim more than that. Normally, sisters aspiring to such heights inspired rivalries that inevitably thinned the ranks.

“And the legions of House Do’Urden number more than three hundred fifty,” SiNafay continued, “all of them trained by perhaps the finest weapon master in all the city.”

“Zaknafein Do’Urden, of course!” Masoj recalled.

“You have heard of him?”

“His name is often spoken at the Academy, even in Sorcere.”

“Good,” SiNafay purred. “Then you will understand the full weight of the mission I have chosen for you,” An eager light came into Masoj’s eyes.

“Another Do’Urden is soon to begin there,” SiNafay explained. “Not a master, but a student. By the words of those few who have seen this boy, Drizzt, at training, he will be as fine a fighter as Zaknafein. We should not allow this.”

“You want me to kill the boy?” Masoj asked agerly.

“No,” SiNafay replied, “not yet. I want you to learn of him, to understand the motivations of his every move. If the time to strike does come, you must be ready.”

Masoj liked the devious assignment, but one thing still bothered him more than a little. “We still have Alton to consider,” he said. “He is impatient and daring. What are the consequences to House Hun’ett if he strikes House Do’Urden before the proper time? Might we invoke open war in the city, with House Hun’ett viewed as the perpetrator?”

“Do not worry, my son,” Matron SiNafay replied. “If Alton DeVir makes a grievous error while in the guise of Gelroos. Hun’ett, we expose him as a murderous imposter and no member of our family. He will be an unhoused rogue with an executioner facing him from every direction.”