Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(65)

Alton gulped audibly. “I am willing to take the risk,” he said, crossing his arms resolutely on the table.

“What of House Hun’ett when the biggest lie is revealed?” SiNafay asked. “What advantage will we enjoy when Matron Malice knows the Faceless One’s true identity?”

“I understand,” Alton answered, crestfallen but unable to refute SiNafay’s logic. “Then what are we to do? What am I to do?”

Matron SiNafay was already considering their next moves. “You will resign your tenure,” she said at length. “Return to House Hun’ett, within my protection.”

“Such an act might also implicate House Hun’ett to Matron Malice,” Alton reasoned.

“It may,” replied SiNafay, “but it is the safest route. I will go to Matron Malice in feigned anger, telling her to leave House Hun’ett out of her troubles. If she wishes to make an informant of a member of my family, then she should come to me for permission-though I’ll not grant it this time!”

SiNafay smiled at the possibilities of such an encounter. “My anger, my fear, alone could implicate a greater house against House Do’Urden, even a conspiracy between more than one house,” she said, obviously enjoying the added benefits. “Matron Malice will certainly have much to think about, and much to worry about!”

Alton hadn’t even heard SiNafay’s last comments. The words about granting her permission “this time,” had brought a disturbing notion into his mind. ,” And did she?” he dared to ask, though his words were barely audible.

“What do you mean?” asked SiNafay, not following his thoughts.

“Did Matron Malice come to you?” Alton continued, frightened but needing an answer. “Thirty years ago. Did Matron SiNafay grant her permission for Gelroos Hun’ett to become an agent, an assassin to complete House DeVir’s elimination?”

A wide smile spread across SiNafay’s face, but it vanished in the blink of an eye as she threw the table across the room, grabbed Alton by the front of his robes, and pulled him roughly to within an inch of her scowling visage.

“Never confuse personal feelings with politics!” the tiny but obviously strong matron growled, her tone carrying the unmistakable weight of an open threat. “And never ask me such a question again!”

She threw Alton to the floor but didn’t release him from her penetrating glare.

Alton had known all along that he was merely a pawn in the intrigue between House Hun’ett and House Do’Urden, a necessary link for Matron SiNafay to carry out her treacherous plans. Every now and then, though, Alton’s personal grudge against House Do’Urden caused him to forget his lowly place in this conflict. Looking up now at SiNafay’s bared power, he realized that he had overstepped the bounds of his position.

At the back end of the mushroom grove, the southern wall of the cavern that housed Menzoberranzan, was a small, heavily guarded cave. Beyond the ironbound doors stood a single room, used only for gatherings of the city’s eight r uling matron mothers.

The smoke of a hundred sweet-smelling candles permeated the air; the matron mothers liked it that way. After almost half a century of studying scrolls in the candlelight of Sorcere, Alton did not mind the light, but he was indeed uncomfortable in the chamber. He sat at the back end of a spider-shaped table, in a small, unadorned chair reserved for guests of the council. Between the table’s eight hairy legs were the ruling matron mothers’ thrones, all jeweled and dazzling in the candlelight.

The matrons filed in, pompous and wicked, casting belittling glares at the male. SiNafay, at Alton’s side, put a hand on his knee and gave him a reassuring wink. She would not have dared to request a gathering of the ruling council if she was not certain of the worthiness of her news. The ruling matron mothers viewed their seats as honorary in nature and did not appreciate being brought together except in times of crisis.

At the head of the spider table sat Matron Baenre, the most powerful figure in ll of Menzoberranzan, an ancient and withered female with malicious eyes and a mouth unaccustomed to smiles.

“We are gathered, SiNafay,” Baenre said when all eight members had found their appointed chairs. “For what reason have you summoned the council?”

“To discuss a punishment,” SiNafay replied.

“Punishment?” Matron Baenre echoed, confused. The recent years had been unusually quiet in the drow city, without an incident since the Teken’duis -Freth conflict. To the First Matron’s knowledge, no acts had been c ommitted that might require a punishment, certainly none so blatant as to force the ruling council to action. “What individual deserves this?”

“Not an individual,” explained Matron SiNafay. She glanced around at her peers, measuring their interest. “A house,” she said bluntly. “Daermon N’a’shezbaernon, House Do’Urden,” Several gasps of disbelief came in reply, as SiNafay had expected.

“House Do’Urden?” Matron Baenre questioned, surprised that any would implicate Matron Malice. By all of Baenre’s knowledge, Malice remained in high regard with the Spider Queen, and House Do’Urden had recently placed two instructors in the Academy.

“For what crime do you dare to charge House Do’Urden?” asked one of the other matrons.

“Are these words of fear, SiNafay?” Matron Baenre had to ask. Several of the ruling matrons had expressed concern about House Do’Urden. It was well known that Matron Malice desired a seat on the ruling council, and, by all measures of the power of her house, she seemed destined to get it.