Dark Flower Book III, Ch. 20: Rogue King
Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 11:18 pm
Dark Flower Book III
Chapter 20: Rogue King
Upon creation, Sheyreiza’s house, Qu’ellar Valakasha was seated as the 11th house of the city. This put Sheyreiza on the city’s ruling council of Matrons. Given that Ched Nasad was home to dozens of noble houses, her swift ascension to the heights of power naturally gave rise to jealousy and hatred among those not so fortunate. But the Matrons of the lower houses were not the only ones upset by the meteoric rise of Auvyrndar’s former daughter. Several of the Matron’s on the ruling council whose houses were higher ranked than Qu’ellar Valakasha also took issue with the young Matron’s new position. At a meeting of the ruling council, Matron Inidil Mylyl of Ched Nasad’s fifth ranked house was the most vocal.
“Mind your station, girl, and keep silent.” Inidil snapped at Sheyreiza. “Your position on this council could be lost as fast as it was gained.”
“I will decide what positions are lost and gained.” Matron Shyntlara Auvryndar retorted, with an authority that no matron at the ruling council table dared defy. Since Nasadra was destroyed and house Melarn was under siege, house Auvryndar was now the acting first-house of the city. Currently, there was not one Matron on the ruling council who would openly challenge Shyntlara; Shyntlara’s vampiric nature was known to them all, as was her high-level of favor with the goddess and the martial strength of her house. Shyntlara might not have any real friends on the ruling council, but she also did not have any true rivals either.
Sheyreiza smiled insolently at Inidil but Inidil was not so easily silenced. “Your time will come when this war is over.” Whispered the Mylyl matron. “Your house will not live to see the next age of this city.”
“Only time will tell, Matron.” Sheyreiza said with open contempt. “Time ... and Lolth’s favor.”
“Enough!” Barked Shyntlara, whose undead ears heard every whisper in the chamber as if shouted. “We have a war to win, and Lolth does not favor the foolish or indecisive. The heretics have barricaded themselves inside the Nasadra fortress. As fast as we kill their demons, they gate more in. So long as they keep drawing upon the infinite armies of fiends, the best we can do is a stalemate. We need to cut off their access to reinforcements. In other words, we need to cut them off from the abyss.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Asked Matron Aleanhal.
Shyntlara smiled, revealing her slender, deadly, vampiric fangs. “We will build a device, similar to a mythal, though somewhat smaller, that will prevent teleportation or gating into our out of our city. With the heretic’s access to the abyss cut off, they will not be able to replenish their strength. The stalemate will end, and soon we will be able to launch our final assault; an assault that they will not have the strength to repel.”
Several of the matrons scoffed openly. Matron Aleanhal gave voice to their collective skepticism. “A nice idea, Matron Shyntlara, but how are we going to create a mythal? No drow has ever created a mythal, not since our ancestors in the time before the descent.”
Shyntlara nodded. “True, sister, very true.” Shyntlara put her hands together and leaned back in her throne. “There is, however, a wizard we are aware of who may be able to create such a device for us. The lich Araundoor.”
Even louder scoffing and snickering erupted around the table. “And what makes you think this Aruandoor will do this for us?” Matron Aleanhal asked incredulously, no longer bothering to temper her skepticism. “What makes you think he would even step one-foot outside of his domain? If I recall correctly, this particular lich was a drow once and while no longer drow, he has adopted some twisted sense of nobility. If I am informed correctly, the insolent beast will destroy anyone that enters his domain whom he does not perceive to be of his station. And while a rogue male has no real station in our society, Araundoor does not live within our society anymore. He lives in his own plane, and there, he is not a rogue male, he is a rogue king. Who then can you send to treat as equal with a king?”
Matron Shyntlara faced her questioner with a smile. “I can, and will, send a Matron Mother.” This silenced everyone. None doubted that a Matron Mother was as close to a king as the drow knew, save for the Goddess herself, but what Matron would dare venture into the demi-plane of a mad lich? Nervously the women looked back and forth between themselves. Only Sheyreiza retained her composure completely, and only because she already knew the answer to Shyntlara’s riddle. Finally Shyntlara broke the silence and the suspicion. “Matron Valakasha,” she announced, “with the support of House Auvryndar and the support of House Claddath, will venture to Araundoom, the lich’s abode. There they will secure his assistance.”
Matron Aleanhal spoke up again, but the fire was gone from her questions now, and all that remained was nervous curiosity. “And how will she obtain the lich’s service?”
“By any means necessary.” Shyntlara answered matter-of-factly.
The debate continued, but there was no real further opposition; the Matrons had learned that which was most important to them – that there was a plan, and that they were not responsible for seeing that plan through. Only Houses Auvryndar, Claddath and Valakasha were slated to partake in the scheme to create the mythal. Though Shyntlara only counted upon those houses and allies she already knew would help, she opened the door to others at the end of the meeting.
“Those of you who are loyal to Lolth had best declare yourselves soon.” It was both an invitation and a warning. “Our victory is at hand, and so to is the reckoning for those who are unfaithful.” Shyntlara’s obvious threat was met immediately by whispered challenges, but no one was bold enough to make a stand.
Matron Talabrina stood and the whispers stopped. “House Claddath declares itself for Lolth!” She announced, looking from one matron to the next around the table with an icy glare.
“House Valakasha also declares itself for Lolth.” Sheyreiza replied smugly, her eyes locking onto Inidil Mylyl’s.
“I need not declare my faith to you.” Inidil retorted, glaring back at Sheyreiza. “Or even you.” She said defiantly to Shyntlara. “I don’t answer to the pretender-house of Valakasha, nor even to Auvryndar. I am done with this meeting.” Inidil stood, her whip-of-fangs in hand, and walked from the table. The other matrons followed Inidil until all had left the chamber except for Shyntlara, Talabrina and Sheyreiza.
“Unfaithful whores.” Talabrina spat.
“I don’t think its a question of faith.” Sheyreiza replied. “I think they see an opportunity. The three of us can defeat the Melarn traitors if our plan works, but the fight will be hard. We will be greatly weakened afterwards, especially if we receive no more help from the other matrons. So, after we win the civil war, we will be victorious, but vulnerable. Then they can swoop in and destroy our houses and take our positions for themselves. We do the dirty work of slaying the heretics, but they take the city.”
“That is not going to happen.” Shyntlara replied definitively. “Those who are unfaithful shall be punished. The wrath of the Goddess shall not be denied.” For a moment, Talabrina and Sheyreiza both regarded Shyntlara silently. Was she right? Would the Goddess really avenge herself on the unfaithful? Or was the Goddess to weak to prevail? Wendonai was but a demon-lord, and normally no match for the Goddess, but the Goddess was still divided into aspects. Though several aspects had been freed, Lolth was still weak; too weak to defeat Wendonai out of hand anyway. Though both of them had misgivings about the plan, neither Talabrina nor Sheyreiza was willing to express them aloud. Suggesting that the faithful might not prevail was tantamount to blasphemy.
“Well,” Talabrina said finally, “whether they are faithful or not, I am sure our plan will get back to the Melarn one way or another.”
“I know.” Shyntlara said with a fanged-grin. “I am counting on it. When the Melarn learn of our plan they will realize that it is just a matter of time before they are destroyed. And so they will realize they have to stop the plan from coming together. We shall ensure they learn where the mythal is being built; once the Melarn learn the location of the mythal’s construction, they will sally out of their fortress. They will have to come for the mythal. And we will be waiting. Instead of storming their fortress, they will have to storm ours. They will come to us, and we will have the advantage of fortifications, not them. And that means the ultimate fight with them will cost us less. They do not know it yet, but they are doomed.”
Sheyreiza nodded with a forced grin, but inside, she had her doubts. She agreed with Shyntlara’s assessment that if the Melarn traitors learned of the plan regarding the mythal, they would have no choice but to launch a pre-emptive assault. And upon that assault all would rest. So it stood to reason that Wendonai himself would fight in this assault. But the last time Wendonai had entered battle directly, he had easily vanquished Shyntlara, and Shyntlara was the strongest of all the faithful. Sheyreiza saw no sign that the demon-lord had lost any of his potency, and if backed into a corner by Shyntlara’s plan, she saw no reason why he would not come after them himself. And if he did, how were they going to stop him?
* * *
Sheyreiza was playing out the great game in her head as she entered Qu’ellar Valakasha’s keep, the citadel that had been, until so recently, the Despana keep. She passed through the fountain-hall and into the kitchen where she found a slave roasting a sizable chunk of rothe. Sheyreiza carved off a piece of the roast and went across the corridor to the dining hall. It was between meal times so she expected the chamber to be empty, but it was not; there were two men sitting in the chamber, talking freely. One was her nephew, the apprentice wizard Khazin. The other man was a stranger. Sheyreiza set her plate down on the long table as both men quickly stood and bowed.
“Um .. Greetings, honored matron.” Khazin said hastily and clumsily. “We shall leave you at once.”
The stranger said nothing, but bowed low. “And who is this?” Sheyreiza asked.
Khazin answered quickly and nervously. “This is a wizard, matron. He is looking for house.”
Sheyreiza’s hand slid quickly to the hilt of her morningstar. “A wizard? From what house?”
“He has no house, matron, he is looking for one.” Khazin replied.
“Even those looking for a new house usually come from one. Does he not have a mother?” Sheyreiza snapped.
Khazin swallowed nervously. “Of course, an excellent point honored matron. I did not ... I do not know.”
Sheyreiza finally took her eyes off the silent stranger for a moment to give Khazin a look that virtually melted the young wizard on the spot. She took a deep breath, sighed and then addressed the stranger directly. “What is your name, wizard.” She said, as if wizard was the foulest word imaginable.
“My name is Daxunyrr.” The man replied.
“Are you noble or common?” Sheyreiza asked. “And if noble, what house do you come from?”
“I am common, matron.” He said humbly. “I have no house.”
“Do you seek one?” She asked bluntly.
The man paused, thinking about his answer. “I seek a place to live, matron. I would not be so foolish as to think I deserve a place in a noble house.”
A wry grin crossed Sheyreiza’s face. “Your accent ... you are not Nasadrian”
“No,” the man admitted, “I am from Sshamath.”
“A heretic city.” Sheyreiza stated with no little challenge. “Are you a heretic, Daxunyrr?”
“No, matron, I am not.” He said quietly but firmly.
“Swear to me, on your soul, that your Goddess is Lolth and that you worship no other deity.” This demand reminded Sheyreiza of her early days in Skullport when she was recruiting from amongst the dregs of that barbaric society. While Ched Nasad was no slum like Skullport, filled with iblith and heretics, Ched Nasad did have its contingent of unfaithful and this wizard could certainly be a Melarn spy, though more likely, he was from one of the other “loyal” houses such as Mylyl or Aleanhal.
“I so swear, honored matron.” Daxunyrr replied.
Sheyreiza frowned. “Speak the words. All of them.”
The man nodded his understanding. “I swear, on my soul, that I worship the Goddess Lolth and that I do not worship any other deity.”
“We shall see, Daxunyrr. We shall see.” Sheyreiza walked around the table towards him. “Sit, please.”
That, more than anything else, made the man visibly nervous. It was common knowledge that to sit in the company of one’s enemies made one vulnerable. Better to stand and remain standing, than sit and never rise again. Still, he had little choice, so Daxunyrr sat and made himself as comfortable as he could.
Sheyreiza slid behind him, smiling. “Are you a competent wizard, Daxunyrr?” She asked in a purr.
“I believe so, matron.” He answered evenly. Sheyreiza quizzed him about his magical abilities and Daxunyrr answered professionally if somewhat slowly. It seemed he was far more capable than Khazin, though not as powerful as, say, Celuldor had been. Indeed, aside from Celuldor, Daxunyrr's answers would indicate he would be more powerful than any wizard currently in the house.
“Well, it was interesting meeting you Daxunyrr.” Sheyreiza said when she was done questioning him.
He bowed his head at the table. “Thank you matron.”
Sheyreiza picked up her plate and looked to her nephew. “Khazin, come with me. Daxunyrr, if you will excuse us a moment.”
Khazin rose and nervously followed Sheyreiza out of the dining hall and into the kitchen. As the door to the kitchen shut, Sheyreiza spun and backhanded Khazin across the face. “How dare you!” She snarled. “How dare you bring an unknown wizard into my house. Into my keep! Into my dining hall! How stupid are you, apprentice? You bring an unknown mage here? He could be a spy, or an assassin. He could be here to bring this house down you stupid fool. What in the abyss were you thinking, letting him in here?”
Khazin was trembling now, his eyes wide. He stammered incoherently for a moment. “I, mistress, I am sorry. My apologies. I just thought .. we .. we need a .. we could use a wizard and he was looking for a house so I .. I ..”
“So you brought a strange, virtually nameless wizard of untold power into your own home? That is how you serve your house?” Sheyreiza stared at him with a combination of rage and disbelief. “I thought you wizards were supposed to be intelligent. Can you not think? Did it not occur to you that this strange wizard who just happens to show up on our doorstep might be here for some ulterior reason?”
Khazin swallowed heavily now and his eyes were watering. “I ... I am sorry mistress.”
“Indeed you are.” Sheyreiza said. “Indeed you are. But not as sorry as you may yet be.” She turned from him and paced around the kitchen a moment. “I should have you flayed alive for this Khazin, but this house is at war and I need everyone, even wizards who are too stupid to keep strangers outside the gate where they belong. And so this is what I am going to do Khazin. I am going to make you responsible for this Daxunyrr. You let him in, so you take the responsibility. If this Daxunyrr turns out to be what he says he is, a wizard looking for a home, then I will reward you if we gain his services.” She stepped close and her eyes turned dark. “But, Khazin, if this Daxunyrr turns out to be something other than what he says he is, I will see you suffer like I have made no one suffer before. You will take a long, long time to die. Do you understand me?”
“I do, I do mistress, thank you for this opportunity.” Khazin replied, nodding his head furiously.
Before the council meeting, Shyntlara had revealed her plan to Sheyreiza and Sheyreiza learned that the strand of fate she walked held a lich at one end. To survive, she would have to overcome that creature one way or another. This was bad enough. But now, thanks to that idiot Khazin, there was another piece on her strand, forcing Sheyreiza to walk a treacherous path between two mages - the lich Araundoor before her, and the wizard Daxunyrr behind her. Two rogue kings on the savva board. Both presented opportunities naturally, but both presented dangers as well. Only time, and Lolth, would reveal which was the greater.
Chapter 20: Rogue King
Upon creation, Sheyreiza’s house, Qu’ellar Valakasha was seated as the 11th house of the city. This put Sheyreiza on the city’s ruling council of Matrons. Given that Ched Nasad was home to dozens of noble houses, her swift ascension to the heights of power naturally gave rise to jealousy and hatred among those not so fortunate. But the Matrons of the lower houses were not the only ones upset by the meteoric rise of Auvyrndar’s former daughter. Several of the Matron’s on the ruling council whose houses were higher ranked than Qu’ellar Valakasha also took issue with the young Matron’s new position. At a meeting of the ruling council, Matron Inidil Mylyl of Ched Nasad’s fifth ranked house was the most vocal.
“Mind your station, girl, and keep silent.” Inidil snapped at Sheyreiza. “Your position on this council could be lost as fast as it was gained.”
“I will decide what positions are lost and gained.” Matron Shyntlara Auvryndar retorted, with an authority that no matron at the ruling council table dared defy. Since Nasadra was destroyed and house Melarn was under siege, house Auvryndar was now the acting first-house of the city. Currently, there was not one Matron on the ruling council who would openly challenge Shyntlara; Shyntlara’s vampiric nature was known to them all, as was her high-level of favor with the goddess and the martial strength of her house. Shyntlara might not have any real friends on the ruling council, but she also did not have any true rivals either.
Sheyreiza smiled insolently at Inidil but Inidil was not so easily silenced. “Your time will come when this war is over.” Whispered the Mylyl matron. “Your house will not live to see the next age of this city.”
“Only time will tell, Matron.” Sheyreiza said with open contempt. “Time ... and Lolth’s favor.”
“Enough!” Barked Shyntlara, whose undead ears heard every whisper in the chamber as if shouted. “We have a war to win, and Lolth does not favor the foolish or indecisive. The heretics have barricaded themselves inside the Nasadra fortress. As fast as we kill their demons, they gate more in. So long as they keep drawing upon the infinite armies of fiends, the best we can do is a stalemate. We need to cut off their access to reinforcements. In other words, we need to cut them off from the abyss.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Asked Matron Aleanhal.
Shyntlara smiled, revealing her slender, deadly, vampiric fangs. “We will build a device, similar to a mythal, though somewhat smaller, that will prevent teleportation or gating into our out of our city. With the heretic’s access to the abyss cut off, they will not be able to replenish their strength. The stalemate will end, and soon we will be able to launch our final assault; an assault that they will not have the strength to repel.”
Several of the matrons scoffed openly. Matron Aleanhal gave voice to their collective skepticism. “A nice idea, Matron Shyntlara, but how are we going to create a mythal? No drow has ever created a mythal, not since our ancestors in the time before the descent.”
Shyntlara nodded. “True, sister, very true.” Shyntlara put her hands together and leaned back in her throne. “There is, however, a wizard we are aware of who may be able to create such a device for us. The lich Araundoor.”
Even louder scoffing and snickering erupted around the table. “And what makes you think this Aruandoor will do this for us?” Matron Aleanhal asked incredulously, no longer bothering to temper her skepticism. “What makes you think he would even step one-foot outside of his domain? If I recall correctly, this particular lich was a drow once and while no longer drow, he has adopted some twisted sense of nobility. If I am informed correctly, the insolent beast will destroy anyone that enters his domain whom he does not perceive to be of his station. And while a rogue male has no real station in our society, Araundoor does not live within our society anymore. He lives in his own plane, and there, he is not a rogue male, he is a rogue king. Who then can you send to treat as equal with a king?”
Matron Shyntlara faced her questioner with a smile. “I can, and will, send a Matron Mother.” This silenced everyone. None doubted that a Matron Mother was as close to a king as the drow knew, save for the Goddess herself, but what Matron would dare venture into the demi-plane of a mad lich? Nervously the women looked back and forth between themselves. Only Sheyreiza retained her composure completely, and only because she already knew the answer to Shyntlara’s riddle. Finally Shyntlara broke the silence and the suspicion. “Matron Valakasha,” she announced, “with the support of House Auvryndar and the support of House Claddath, will venture to Araundoom, the lich’s abode. There they will secure his assistance.”
Matron Aleanhal spoke up again, but the fire was gone from her questions now, and all that remained was nervous curiosity. “And how will she obtain the lich’s service?”
“By any means necessary.” Shyntlara answered matter-of-factly.
The debate continued, but there was no real further opposition; the Matrons had learned that which was most important to them – that there was a plan, and that they were not responsible for seeing that plan through. Only Houses Auvryndar, Claddath and Valakasha were slated to partake in the scheme to create the mythal. Though Shyntlara only counted upon those houses and allies she already knew would help, she opened the door to others at the end of the meeting.
“Those of you who are loyal to Lolth had best declare yourselves soon.” It was both an invitation and a warning. “Our victory is at hand, and so to is the reckoning for those who are unfaithful.” Shyntlara’s obvious threat was met immediately by whispered challenges, but no one was bold enough to make a stand.
Matron Talabrina stood and the whispers stopped. “House Claddath declares itself for Lolth!” She announced, looking from one matron to the next around the table with an icy glare.
“House Valakasha also declares itself for Lolth.” Sheyreiza replied smugly, her eyes locking onto Inidil Mylyl’s.
“I need not declare my faith to you.” Inidil retorted, glaring back at Sheyreiza. “Or even you.” She said defiantly to Shyntlara. “I don’t answer to the pretender-house of Valakasha, nor even to Auvryndar. I am done with this meeting.” Inidil stood, her whip-of-fangs in hand, and walked from the table. The other matrons followed Inidil until all had left the chamber except for Shyntlara, Talabrina and Sheyreiza.
“Unfaithful whores.” Talabrina spat.
“I don’t think its a question of faith.” Sheyreiza replied. “I think they see an opportunity. The three of us can defeat the Melarn traitors if our plan works, but the fight will be hard. We will be greatly weakened afterwards, especially if we receive no more help from the other matrons. So, after we win the civil war, we will be victorious, but vulnerable. Then they can swoop in and destroy our houses and take our positions for themselves. We do the dirty work of slaying the heretics, but they take the city.”
“That is not going to happen.” Shyntlara replied definitively. “Those who are unfaithful shall be punished. The wrath of the Goddess shall not be denied.” For a moment, Talabrina and Sheyreiza both regarded Shyntlara silently. Was she right? Would the Goddess really avenge herself on the unfaithful? Or was the Goddess to weak to prevail? Wendonai was but a demon-lord, and normally no match for the Goddess, but the Goddess was still divided into aspects. Though several aspects had been freed, Lolth was still weak; too weak to defeat Wendonai out of hand anyway. Though both of them had misgivings about the plan, neither Talabrina nor Sheyreiza was willing to express them aloud. Suggesting that the faithful might not prevail was tantamount to blasphemy.
“Well,” Talabrina said finally, “whether they are faithful or not, I am sure our plan will get back to the Melarn one way or another.”
“I know.” Shyntlara said with a fanged-grin. “I am counting on it. When the Melarn learn of our plan they will realize that it is just a matter of time before they are destroyed. And so they will realize they have to stop the plan from coming together. We shall ensure they learn where the mythal is being built; once the Melarn learn the location of the mythal’s construction, they will sally out of their fortress. They will have to come for the mythal. And we will be waiting. Instead of storming their fortress, they will have to storm ours. They will come to us, and we will have the advantage of fortifications, not them. And that means the ultimate fight with them will cost us less. They do not know it yet, but they are doomed.”
Sheyreiza nodded with a forced grin, but inside, she had her doubts. She agreed with Shyntlara’s assessment that if the Melarn traitors learned of the plan regarding the mythal, they would have no choice but to launch a pre-emptive assault. And upon that assault all would rest. So it stood to reason that Wendonai himself would fight in this assault. But the last time Wendonai had entered battle directly, he had easily vanquished Shyntlara, and Shyntlara was the strongest of all the faithful. Sheyreiza saw no sign that the demon-lord had lost any of his potency, and if backed into a corner by Shyntlara’s plan, she saw no reason why he would not come after them himself. And if he did, how were they going to stop him?
* * *
Sheyreiza was playing out the great game in her head as she entered Qu’ellar Valakasha’s keep, the citadel that had been, until so recently, the Despana keep. She passed through the fountain-hall and into the kitchen where she found a slave roasting a sizable chunk of rothe. Sheyreiza carved off a piece of the roast and went across the corridor to the dining hall. It was between meal times so she expected the chamber to be empty, but it was not; there were two men sitting in the chamber, talking freely. One was her nephew, the apprentice wizard Khazin. The other man was a stranger. Sheyreiza set her plate down on the long table as both men quickly stood and bowed.
“Um .. Greetings, honored matron.” Khazin said hastily and clumsily. “We shall leave you at once.”
The stranger said nothing, but bowed low. “And who is this?” Sheyreiza asked.
Khazin answered quickly and nervously. “This is a wizard, matron. He is looking for house.”
Sheyreiza’s hand slid quickly to the hilt of her morningstar. “A wizard? From what house?”
“He has no house, matron, he is looking for one.” Khazin replied.
“Even those looking for a new house usually come from one. Does he not have a mother?” Sheyreiza snapped.
Khazin swallowed nervously. “Of course, an excellent point honored matron. I did not ... I do not know.”
Sheyreiza finally took her eyes off the silent stranger for a moment to give Khazin a look that virtually melted the young wizard on the spot. She took a deep breath, sighed and then addressed the stranger directly. “What is your name, wizard.” She said, as if wizard was the foulest word imaginable.
“My name is Daxunyrr.” The man replied.
“Are you noble or common?” Sheyreiza asked. “And if noble, what house do you come from?”
“I am common, matron.” He said humbly. “I have no house.”
“Do you seek one?” She asked bluntly.
The man paused, thinking about his answer. “I seek a place to live, matron. I would not be so foolish as to think I deserve a place in a noble house.”
A wry grin crossed Sheyreiza’s face. “Your accent ... you are not Nasadrian”
“No,” the man admitted, “I am from Sshamath.”
“A heretic city.” Sheyreiza stated with no little challenge. “Are you a heretic, Daxunyrr?”
“No, matron, I am not.” He said quietly but firmly.
“Swear to me, on your soul, that your Goddess is Lolth and that you worship no other deity.” This demand reminded Sheyreiza of her early days in Skullport when she was recruiting from amongst the dregs of that barbaric society. While Ched Nasad was no slum like Skullport, filled with iblith and heretics, Ched Nasad did have its contingent of unfaithful and this wizard could certainly be a Melarn spy, though more likely, he was from one of the other “loyal” houses such as Mylyl or Aleanhal.
“I so swear, honored matron.” Daxunyrr replied.
Sheyreiza frowned. “Speak the words. All of them.”
The man nodded his understanding. “I swear, on my soul, that I worship the Goddess Lolth and that I do not worship any other deity.”
“We shall see, Daxunyrr. We shall see.” Sheyreiza walked around the table towards him. “Sit, please.”
That, more than anything else, made the man visibly nervous. It was common knowledge that to sit in the company of one’s enemies made one vulnerable. Better to stand and remain standing, than sit and never rise again. Still, he had little choice, so Daxunyrr sat and made himself as comfortable as he could.
Sheyreiza slid behind him, smiling. “Are you a competent wizard, Daxunyrr?” She asked in a purr.
“I believe so, matron.” He answered evenly. Sheyreiza quizzed him about his magical abilities and Daxunyrr answered professionally if somewhat slowly. It seemed he was far more capable than Khazin, though not as powerful as, say, Celuldor had been. Indeed, aside from Celuldor, Daxunyrr's answers would indicate he would be more powerful than any wizard currently in the house.
“Well, it was interesting meeting you Daxunyrr.” Sheyreiza said when she was done questioning him.
He bowed his head at the table. “Thank you matron.”
Sheyreiza picked up her plate and looked to her nephew. “Khazin, come with me. Daxunyrr, if you will excuse us a moment.”
Khazin rose and nervously followed Sheyreiza out of the dining hall and into the kitchen. As the door to the kitchen shut, Sheyreiza spun and backhanded Khazin across the face. “How dare you!” She snarled. “How dare you bring an unknown wizard into my house. Into my keep! Into my dining hall! How stupid are you, apprentice? You bring an unknown mage here? He could be a spy, or an assassin. He could be here to bring this house down you stupid fool. What in the abyss were you thinking, letting him in here?”
Khazin was trembling now, his eyes wide. He stammered incoherently for a moment. “I, mistress, I am sorry. My apologies. I just thought .. we .. we need a .. we could use a wizard and he was looking for a house so I .. I ..”
“So you brought a strange, virtually nameless wizard of untold power into your own home? That is how you serve your house?” Sheyreiza stared at him with a combination of rage and disbelief. “I thought you wizards were supposed to be intelligent. Can you not think? Did it not occur to you that this strange wizard who just happens to show up on our doorstep might be here for some ulterior reason?”
Khazin swallowed heavily now and his eyes were watering. “I ... I am sorry mistress.”
“Indeed you are.” Sheyreiza said. “Indeed you are. But not as sorry as you may yet be.” She turned from him and paced around the kitchen a moment. “I should have you flayed alive for this Khazin, but this house is at war and I need everyone, even wizards who are too stupid to keep strangers outside the gate where they belong. And so this is what I am going to do Khazin. I am going to make you responsible for this Daxunyrr. You let him in, so you take the responsibility. If this Daxunyrr turns out to be what he says he is, a wizard looking for a home, then I will reward you if we gain his services.” She stepped close and her eyes turned dark. “But, Khazin, if this Daxunyrr turns out to be something other than what he says he is, I will see you suffer like I have made no one suffer before. You will take a long, long time to die. Do you understand me?”
“I do, I do mistress, thank you for this opportunity.” Khazin replied, nodding his head furiously.
Before the council meeting, Shyntlara had revealed her plan to Sheyreiza and Sheyreiza learned that the strand of fate she walked held a lich at one end. To survive, she would have to overcome that creature one way or another. This was bad enough. But now, thanks to that idiot Khazin, there was another piece on her strand, forcing Sheyreiza to walk a treacherous path between two mages - the lich Araundoor before her, and the wizard Daxunyrr behind her. Two rogue kings on the savva board. Both presented opportunities naturally, but both presented dangers as well. Only time, and Lolth, would reveal which was the greater.