Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(62)

“Then might we use reason?” Drizzt pressed, continuing against the barrage of incredulous glares that came at him from every face in the room- except from Zak’s. “If we are the stronger, then let them submit without battle. Rank House Do’Urden as it should be and let the assumed threat to the weaker house be ended.”

Malice grabbed Drizzt by the front of his cloak and heaved him to his feet. “I forgive your foolish thoughts,” she growled, “this time!” She dropped him back to the floor, and the silent reprimands of his siblings descended upon him. Again, though, Zak’s expression did not match the others in the room. Indeed, Zak put a hand up over his mouth to hide his amusement. Perhaps there remained a bit of the Drizzt o’Urden he had known, he dared to hope. Perhaps the Academy had not fully tainted the young fighter’s spirit. Malice whirled on the rest of the family, simmering fury and lust glowing in her eyes.

“This is not the time to fear! This,” she cried, a slender finger pointing out from in front of her face, “is the time to dream! We are House Do’Urden, Daermon N’a’shezbaernon, of power beyond the understanding of the great houses. We are the unknown entity of this war. We hold every advantage!

“Ninth house?” she laughed. “In short time, only seven houses will remain ahead of us!”

“What of the patrol?” Briza cut in. “Are we to allow the secondboy to go off alone, exposed?”

“The patrol will begin our advantage,” the conniving matron explained. “Drizzt will go, and included in his group will be a member of at least four of the houses above us.”

“One may strike at him,” Briza reasoned.

“No,” Malice assured her. “Our enemies in the coming war would not reveal themselves so clearly-not yet. The appointed assassin would have to defeat two Do’Urdens in such a confrontation.”

“Two?” asked Vierna.

“Again, Lloth has shown us her favor,” explained Malice. “Dinin will lead Drizzt’s patrol group.”

The elderboy’s eyes lit up at the news. “Then Drizzt and I might become the assassins n this conflict,” he purred.

The smile disappeared from the matron mother’s face. “You will not strike without my consent,” she warned in a tone so cold that Dinin fully understood the consequences of disobedience, “as you have done in the past.”

Drizzt did not miss the reference to Nalfein, his murdered rother. His mother knew! Malice had done nothing to punish her murderous son. Now Drizzt’s hand went up to his face, to hide an expression of horror that only could have brought him trouble in this setting.

“You are there to learn,” Matron Malice said to Dinin, “to protect your brother, as Drizzt is there to protect you. Do not destroy our advantage for the gain of a single kill,” An evil smile found its way back onto her bone- hued face. “But, if you learn of our enemy...” she said.

“If the proper opportunity presents itself...” Briza finished, guessing her mother’s wicked thoughts and throwing an equally vile smile the matron’s way.

Malice looked upon her eldest daughter with approval. Briza would prove a fine successor for the house!

Dinin’s smile became wide and lascivious. Nothing pleased the elderboy of House Do’Urden more than the opportunity for an assassination.

“Go, then, my family,” Malice said. “Remember that unfriendly eyes are upon us, watching our every move, waiting for the time to strike.”

Zak was the first out of the chapel, as always, this time with an added spring in his step. It wasn’t the prospect of fighting another war that guided his moves, though the thought of killing more clerics o f the Spider Queen certainly pleased him. Rather, Drizzt’s display of naivete, his continued misconceptions of the common weal of drow existence, brought Zak hope.

Drizzt watched him go, thinking Zak’s strides reflected his desire to kill. Drizzt didn’t know whether to follow and confront the weapon master here and now or to let it pass, to shrug it away as readily as he had dismissed most of the cruel world around him. The decision was made for him when Matron Malice stepped in front of him and kept him in the chapel.

“To you, I say this,” she began when they were alone. “You have heard the mission I placed upon your shoulders. I will not tolerate failure!”

Drizzt shrank back from the power of her voice. “Protect your brother,” came the grim warning, “or I shall give you to Lloth for judgment.”

Drizzt understood the implications, but the matron took the pleasure to spell them out anyway.

“You would not enjoy your life as a drider.”

A lightning blast cut across the still black waters of the underground lake, searing the heads of the approaching water trolls. Sounds of battle echoed through the cavern. Drizzt had one monster -scrags, they were called- cornered on a small peninsula, blocking the wretched thing’s path back to the water. Normally, a single drow faced off evenly against a water troll would not have the advantage, but as the others of his patrol group had come to see in the past few weeks, Drizzt was no ordinary young drow.

The scrag came on, oblivious to its peril. A single, blinding movement from Drizzt lopped off the creature’s reaching arms. Drizzt moved in quickly for the kill, knowing too well the regenerative powers of trolls.

Then another scrag slipped out of the water at his back. Drizzt had expected this, but he gave no outward indication that he saw the second scrag coming. He kept his concentration ahead of him, driving deep slashes into the maimed and all but defenseless troll’s torso.