Dark Flower, Book III
Chapter 14: The Wayward Son
[Author's note: This is the second part of what was going to be a longer version of Chapter 13. As such, this entry is fairly short as well. I hope you all enjoy none the less and I hope those involved forgive any errors I made in trying to reconstruct the events and the dialogue. For this chapter, I have to thank Vendrin, Zakharra, Magonushi, but most especially, I have to thank the Burt.]
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A very nervous, plain-faced servant bedecked in the black and purple silks of Auvryndar’s livery entered Sheyreiza’s bath-chamber and delivered Matron Shyntlara’s summons; the Matron wanted to see Sheyreiza and the senior members of her entourage immediately. Sheyreiza reluctantly left her warm tub and sent a similar summons to Yathrin Faerylene and Captain Vedo. Soon the three of them were on their way to the heart of the Qu’ellar; Matron Shyntlara’s throne room. As they passed through the throne-room’s ante-chamber Sheyreiza saw Pharaun, the wayward scout who had fled into the abyss, waiting on one of the divans. She was barely able to control her shock. Sheyreiza was not surprised Pharaun survived the abyss and escaped; the scout was quick, clever, resourceful and experienced. What surprised Sheyreiza was that he would return to the Qu’ellar. Why had he not stayed gone?
She set her face to an expressionless mask as she passed Pharaun and did not acknowledge him in the slightest. There was no telling what the male’s fate was to be, but she would give him no satisfaction at having defied her will and lived to tell the tale. No, she would ignore him and pretend he did not mean anything more to her than a distant pile of rothe dung steaming beneath the mushrooms of the lowest layers of the city. He was nothing to her; his successful defiance, his escape into the abyss, his return, all of it, was nothing. Of course, that was not how she felt inside. Inside, she raged.
In the throne room Matron Shyntlara greeted Sheyreiza and her senior entourage members tersely, bidding them to stand to the side and wait silently. Then the Matron summoned Pharaun. The scout came in of his own accord. He was not shackled, gagged or bound in anyway. He did not even seem to be under guard. Clearly he had returned of his own accord.
Sheyreiza wondered what his game was; had he come upon something valuable enough to trade for his life? Had he arranged some sort of deal? For her, this was all clearly personal; his presence here was a direct affront to her authority. Every step he took was a slap in her face, every breath a defiant shout that he could refuse her order and live. Anger welled up inside Sheyreiza and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from snarling. She wanted to kill him, right there, right now, on the Matron’s own royal rugs. Killing him like that was not possible though; to do so would be such a breach of etiquette that Matron Shyntlara would have to do the same to Sheyreiza, and Sheyreiza was certainly not going to trade her life for that worthless scout’s life.
Pharaun kneeled on one knee before the Matron, the traditional form of supplication. She berated him a bit and then commanded he explain himself. Pharaun explained that he had fled because he was certain Sheyreiza was trading his soul and the souls of the others for her own safe passage back to the world. Sheyreiza had to grin just a bit; Pharaun had been wrong, but not far wrong. She had traded Faerylene’s life to the demon, though it was not for something so trivial as a teleportation home. She traded the young yathrin’s life for a glimpse into what was happening with the Goddess. For that, she would have traded the souls and lives of her entire entourage. Of course, she had also given Faerylene the knowledge necessary to avoid the fate that had been set for her; it was up to the young Yathrin now to prove herself worthy of survival. Lolth weaves the strands of each person’s destiny, and each person has freewill to choose which strands to walk. But Lolth places many tests upon those strands; this was one such test for Faerylene. Pharaun, unlike Faerylene, was not part of the demonic bargain; he just thought he was.
Matron Shyntlara listened patiently to the scout tell his tale. When he was done she stood from her throne and walked up to him. “You will be punished for what you did.” She said simply. Pharaun, still kneeling, nodded. The matron turned to Sheyreiza. “Yathtallar Sheyreiza, this male was in your entourage. He is your scout. What do you think his punishment should be?”
The question shocked Sheyreiza almost as much as Pharaun’s return. Matron Shynltara rarely, if ever, asked for advice in such a manner. She ruled the house and all others obeyed. That was simply the way it was. Sheyreiza’s first thought was that this must be some kind of trick, some kind of test. Of course, anything and everything that happened could be seen as a test in one way or another. Sheyreiza decided to answer truthfully, the way she felt.
“He deserted his patrol in hostile territory.” Sheyreiza said calmly and smoothly. “For that he should die.”
Matron Shyntlara arched an eyebrow at Sheyreiza’s answer. It was apparently not what the matron expected. She did not rebuke Sheyreiza, however, instead, she turned to Faerylene. “And you Yathrin Faerylene, what do you think should be the punishment?”
“For this?” Faerylene responded. “For this it is as Yathtallar Sheyreiza says. He should be put to death. He disobeyed Yathtallar Sheyreiza’s direct orders. He abandoned us and fled on his own. He has shown great disrespect to those of greater station.”
The matron nodded slightly as Faerylene answered. She walked down the short line of Sheyreiza’s murder-team. “And you Captain Vedo? What is your opinion?”
Captain Vedo took in a deep breath and gazed down at Pharaun who was still kneeling before them. “Death.” He said after a moment.
Sheyreiza saw something in Vedo’s expression, his body language, that told of some reluctance or regret. She had the distinct feeling that Vedo was not giving his real opinion, but was only repeating what she and Faerylene had said to keep from contradicting them. And that made Sheyreiza smile. Vedo, at least, had some brains. Whether he wanted Pharaun to die or not, Vedo knew where his loyalties had to lie. If Sheyreiza said death, then Faerylene was going to say death, and if the two senior females of his patrol said death, he had better well get in line and say the same damned thing.
Shyntlara paused in front of Vedo for a moment; Sheyreiza was sure the matron had seen the same thing that Sheyreiza had. And she was glad. At least one of Sheyreiza’s males would show evidence of some training and fear. The matron spun on her heels and walked back towards her throne.
“Very well, death it is. Kill him, now.” Shyntlara barked.
Sheyreiza did not hesitate for a single moment. Her long-knife was in her hand so fast it was as if it had always been there and she fell upon the kneeling form of Pharaun with a cold, detached maliciousness. Faerylene and Vedo were only a heartbeat slower, waiting for the Yathtallar to lead. The three surrounded the doomed scout and stabbed at him with their long-knives quickly and viciously. Pharaun never tried to resist and he never said anything. He did not yell out, he did not fight back, he did not run; there was just a slight look of a shock in his eyes as the first blades slid into the flesh of his torso. In the end, he did not flinch from his fate; he met it head on.
It was over in less than a minute. Pharaun’s bloody corpse lay on the Matron’s throne-room rugs between Sheyreiza, Vedo and Faerylene. Sheyreiza began giving orders for his cremation but the Matron waved the three aside. “No” the matron barked. “He is too valuable a scout. I shall recall his soul from the Demonweb and he shall serve us. You shall have your death to avenge his defiance, but Auvryndar will have its scout back.”
Shocked yet again, Sheyreiza took a step back and watched as Matron Shyntlara set about the ritual to bring back Pharaun’s soul. She could not believe the Matron would go to such lengths, but then again, Qu’ellar Auvryndar was locked in a struggle to the death with the Melarn and Pharaun was among the best scouts they had. So be it; if this was the matron’s will, Sheyreiza would have to live with it. Pharaun had died for his treachery, true enough; returning him to life to serve the Qu’ellar was a smart move on Shyntlara’s part. Sheyreiza could now see that this had been Shyntlara’s plan all along. The matron was a cunning player in the great game; Sheyreiza knew this, but the occasional reminder was always helpful.
Shyntlara screamed aloud in anger as the ritual finished. Rage filled her eyes and she bared her fangs as she spit curses in abyssal. Pharaun, however, did not rise. “He defies us even in death!” The matron hissed. “His soul refuses to return.” Sheyreiza bit back a laugh. Now Shyntlara could feel a little of Sheyreiza’s frustration at this male’s stubbornness. It was very amusing to see the matron’s cunning little scenario disrupted. The matron was a clever player in the great game, but even the cleverest queen can get out maneuvered by the lowliest pawn if she is not careful. And it seemed this time the pawn had been sacrificed, but it had won all the same; the wayward son would not be returning.
“If his soul will not return, then his body shall serve us.” Shyntlara snarled. The matron quickly stuffed a piece of onyx beneath Pharaun’s dead tongue and in moments he arose as an undead monstrosity. Sheyreiza turned away. That one of her own murder-team, even a treacherous one like Pharaun, would have their corpse so defiled angered her tremendously. They had taken Pharaun’s life. Was that not enough? There was no need to take his dignity in death. His corpse should have been cleaned, dressed and cremated, not animated and thrown into the mindless ranks of Auvryndar’s rotting, shambling, undead army. It was not right.
It was, however, the matron’s will. And Sheryeiza could not and would not defy that will. The matron was the ranking priestess of Lolth in the house, not too mention one of the deadliest entities in all of Ched Nasad. If this was to be the way of things, then this was the way of things. Sheyreiza bowed and led her murder-team leaders out of the throne room. As she dismissed Faerylene and Vedo she could not help but think about Pharaun. He deserved his death, but she would miss him; he was an excellent scout. Though her murder-team still had most of its killing power, Sheyreiza felt the team was now blind. She had no scout or spy ready to take Pharaun’s place. And in war, a blind team was usually a dead team. It was time to start recruiting.
Dark Flower III, ch. 14: The Wayward Son
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Dark Flower III, ch. 14: The Wayward Son
ALFA1-NWN1: Sheyreiza Valakahsa
NWN2: Layla (aka Aliyah, Amira, Snake and others) and Vellya
NWN1-WD: Shein'n Valakasha
NWN2: Layla (aka Aliyah, Amira, Snake and others) and Vellya
NWN1-WD: Shein'n Valakasha