Dark Flower III, Ch. 18 The Pawn's Play

[Mikayla]

Dark Flower, Book III

Chapter 18: The Pawn’s Play



Sheyreiza did not reverie after meeting the aspect of Lolth. She lay awake on a divan in her chambers, plotting. The webs of Ched Nasad were like the webs of a great savva board. The drow, the houses, the palaces and the castles were the pieces of the great game. And now the game was in full swing. The heretics had moved first; that made them the red side. Their Matron was Matron Melarn, and the red player was Wendonai. The black Matron was Shyntlara Auvryndar, and the black player should have been Lolth, but Lolth was still silent. Black played alone for now. Sheyreiza, however, was not a Matron. She was not a castle like the Claddath either. She was, all things considered, just a pawn, being pushed forward ever further by the Matron who was doing double duty as the black side’s most valuable piece and as the black player. But a second game had opened up. This one was between pieces on the black side; Faerylene, Sheyreiza and Matron Shyntlara. And somewhere out there in the gloom of the underdark, there were other would-be Yorthae, but Sheyreiza could not concern herself with them yet.

Yorthae. The Chosen of Lolth. It was the ultimate prize, worth any sacrifice to achieve. And now the recently freed aspect of Lolth had announced that a Yorthae would be chosen from among a small group of women, including Sheyreiza. But that small, select group also included Faerylene, Sheyreiza’s adopted daughter, and Shyntlara, Sheyreiza’s vampiric mother. In the end, only one could be the Yorthae and Sheyreiza had no doubt it would be the woman who overcame all her competition. And in this society, overcoming the competition meant killing the competition.

Naturally, nothing in Lolth’s web is ever so simple. While Sheyreiza knew now that she would have to overcome Shyntlara and Faerylene, not only was that a difficult task physically, at least in regards to Shyntlara whose skill and vampiric nature made her a deadly opponent, it was also difficult socially and politically. Sheyreiza, her vampiric mother and Faerylene were allies in the civil war which now engulfed Ched Nasad. Matron Shyntlara was, in fact, the leader of the houses loyal to Lolth, standing in opposition to those that had become traitors during Lolth’s silence by allying with the demon-lord Wendonai. Shyntlara was a fearless, ruthless, cunning and faithful Matron whose leadership had staved off heresy and disaster thus far. Those Matrons who had joined the loyalist forces may have joined in part because they were truly loyal to Lolth, but they also joined in part because of their respect and fear of Shyntlara. The Auvryndar matron was a fearsome warrior, a powerful priestess and a shrewd plotter.

Faerylene would also be difficult to be rid of. Not that it would be hard for Sheyreiza to kill Faerylene; the young priestess was hardly a match for Sheyreiza’s skill or Sheyreiza’s cunning. But the young priestess was a key component of Sheyreiza’s warband and Sheyreiza’s warband was the physical extension of her power. Killing Faerylene would greatly diminish Sheyreiza’s ability to fight the war and complete the do-or-die missions Matron Shyntlara was constantly sending Sheyreiza on.

To become Yorthae Sheyreiza had to kill them; but killing either of them presented both practical and political problems.

Of course, that logic also worked in Sheyreiza’s favor. Faerylene was not skilled enough to complete the missions Sheyreiza was routinely tasked with; if the young priestess betrayed Sheyreiza, Faerylene would quickly find herself in battles she could not handle. As for Matron Shyntlara, while she was incomparably powerful and could kill Sheyreiza with a word, Sheyreiza was her greatest captain in this war. It was Sheyreiza who slaughtered the duergar of the Deepgloom; it was Sheyreiza who collected Wendonai’s blades by force and guile; it was Sheyreiza who captured the body of Shurtallistryl and it was Sheyreiza who rescued Celuldor’s mind. Time and time again Sheyreiza had been given seemingly impossible tasks by the Matron and each time she succeeded where few others could have. Even the general of Auvryndar’s army, the weapon-mistress Ghal’tera, had grown to respect Sheyreiza’s skill and cunning in battle. If Matron Shyntlara killed Sheyreiza to clear the path to becoming Yorthae, the Matron would cripple her own ability to fight the war that had become the defining struggle of their time.

And so that was the task Lolth set before the would-be Yorthae: The women had to figure out how to overcome each other and win the civil war simultaneously. It was an epic task for an epic prize, and poetic in its design. The Yorthae would have to show unflinching faith in the face of Lolth’s silence; the Yorthae would have to defeat heresy without the help of the Goddess; and while she did these things, the Yorthae would also have to overcome the best and most favored servants of the Goddess, all while they tried to do the same thing. Faith. Strength. Cunning. It was a test for the ages.

What were Sheyreiza’s odds? 1 in 8? That would be appropriate and to the Goddess’ liking, but it was not to Sheyreiza’s. Sheyreiza was not a gambler by nature, she was a killer. In every game she did what ever she could to maximize her chance of success before ever rolling the dice. Fair play was for losers. But in this game, every one of the players would feel the same, and each would play as dirty as she could. And that fact returned the odds to even – if everyone was prepared to lie, cheat and betray, then they were all equal. And Sheyreiza did not like that one bit. She recognized the magnitude of the challenge, but it did not please her. Success was her pleasure; challenges were an annoyance until overcome.

Were to begin? Allies. She could not hope to prevail over Shyntlara on her own, nor could she do away with Faerylene unless she had a replacement for the young priestess. Who then could help Sheyreiza dispose of the vampiric matron and serve as a replacement for Faerylene? Sheyreiza went through the ranks of her sisters; Shaylin, the oldest, was the most experienced of Shyntlara’s daughters and as Eldest would not willingly acquiesce to Sheyreiza’s leadership. And while Shaylin was a powerful priestess and cunning plotter, she was no war-leader. She was not even a decent warrior for that matter. Sheyreiza’s younger sister was cunning and ambitious, but she lacked courage and power. She did not have enough experience as either a priestess or as a warrior to be effective nor did she enjoy any greater access to Shyntlara than Sheyreiza did. The young sister had an aptitude for stealth and intrigue, but she had not been playing the game long enough to be of real value. In a few years, perhaps she would have made a worthy ally, but for now, she was not suitable.

There was one other sister though; she was not a priestess, but she would make a powerful ally and, because she was not a priestess, she enjoyed greater access to Shyntlara than Sheyreiza or any of the others. She was Ghal’tera, the house weapon-mistress. That would be Sheyreiza’s first move, but the question was, how to make that move safely.

***

Sheyreiza and Ghal’tera stood atop the inner-wall of Auvryndar’s castle surveying the inner and outer courtyards below them. Bloody, ruined bodies lay scattered around in all directions. Some of the bodies burned with magical fire, others smoldered. A few surviving wounded cried out in agony and terror. Those who were Auvryndar were dragged back to the inner-courtyard to be healed. The others, from house Despana, were slain by roving Auvryndar warriors.

The Despana had attacked suddenly; there had been only a few minutes warning. The outer defenses were quickly overwhelmed and the real battle took place over the inner-gate. There, Ghal’tera and Sheyreiza made their stand, with Sheyreiza’s warband by their side. Wave after wave of demons and drow had assaulted them. Vrocks descended from the heights and fell among the defenders while wizards appeared from nowhere to drop deadly magic into the fray. Fast, well-trained warriors rushed the gates and heretical priestesses supported them with spell, bolt and mace.

But Sheyreiza’s warband held. They held through the fire, through the demons, through the bolts and the spells and the swords. They held through the entire cycle and while the enemy expended their strength upon the Auvryndar walls and blades, the Auvryndar grew gradually stronger. Behind the defenders the Auvryndar priestesses raised the fallen, both Auvryndar and Despana alike. Steadily, the undead army of the Auvryndar grew. The attack turned desperate as the defenders became more numerous, not less. The undead were poor fighters of course, no match for drow warriors let alone wizards or priestesses, but they still had to be destroyed by the attackers and that consumed time and resources – time and resources the Despana did not have.

Ultimately, the attack failed. And now Sheyreiza and Ghal’tera stood atop the inner wall above the sundered gates and surveyed the carnage. The attack had been well planned and complete. A full assault, meant to wipe out Auvryndar completely. But it had failed, and Sheyreiza had little doubt that the failure had broken the back of Despana’s strength. Their castle was a strong one, large in size and easily defended, but the Despana army now lay in bloody ruins around the gates of Auvryndar. Auvryndar, in contrast, had expended little of its strength permanently. Though many were wounded, they would be healed. Those that had fallen were quickly joining the ranks of the undead. Ultimately, the power of Auvryndar would be little diminished by this assault.

“You fought well.” Ghal’tera said simply.

Sheyreiza thought about rebuking the praise; priestesses did not seek nor require the approval of warriors. But she withheld the rebuke and instead acted pleased. “Thank you, sister.”

“Sister. Yes.” The weapon-mistress said, turning the words over in her mouth as if they were foreign to her. “I do not see our other sisters here.” She said, almost bemusedly. “I do not see, for instance, Yathtallar Shaylin here.”

This was interesting, Sheyreiza thought as her eyebrows arched in curiosity. She had wondered how to safely breach the topic of an alliance with Ghal’tera, and now Ghal’tera had opened the door just a crack; and a crack was all that Sheyreiza needed. Sheyreiza was an opportunist, if nothing else, and excelled at seizing the moment. Just as she was about to speak, Ghal’tera continued.

“I’ve heard,” Ghal’tera said in a low voice, “that the Matron prepares to become Yorthae.” Ghal’tera’s boldness made Sheyreiza blink. “I wonder if that is what preoccupies her while we are at the gate.” Ghal’tera turned to look back at the central keep, and then faced Sheyreiza. “But Shaylin is not here either, is she?”

“No.” Sheyreiza replied cautiously. Where was this going?

“And even if she was, it would not have made much difference I think, unless she was here in your place, in which case I think the battle would still be on, and the Despana would be at our gate.” Such a statement treaded on the border of treason and so Sheyreiza merely nodded. “If the Matron ascends to become Yorthae, Shaylin is next in line for the Matron’s throne.”

“Yes.” Sheyreiza answered. Was Ghal’tera going to approach her for an alliance? What a fortuitous turn of events.

“If Shaylin takes the throne,” Ghal’tera continued, “I ... please forgive my candor ... I fear for the house.” She locked eyes with Sheyreiza. “I do not believe we can survive with that stupid slut Shaylin as our Matron. If she takes over, we’ll end up slaves to her lover, the Nasadran archmage.”

Sheyreiza agreed with every word Ghal’tera spoke, but did Ghal’tera? Did Ghal’tera really believe what she was saying, or was this a ploy to determine Sheyreiza’s loyalty? Had Shaylin put Ghal’tera up this? Had Shyntlara? Sheyreiza did not know but in an instant she decided she had to take the risk.

“No.” She said frankly. “No, I do not think we can survive with Shaylin as our Matron either.”

“But we could with you.” Ghal’tera replied, leaning closer to Sheyreiza. “I am no priestess, I am only a warrior. I cannot lead our house. But you can. I’ve seen you fight, I’ve seen you lead; you can do it.”

Sheyreiza turned away and looked over the city. “And my past as a heretic, this does not bother you?”

“You’ve chosen Lolth. The others had Lolth forced upon them. Of the two, I think your faith at least as strong, if not stronger. I don’t say this to flatter you sister; I say this for my own end. I do not want to die fighting under Shaylin, I want to live, I want to be Auvryndar’s weapon-mistress and I want to survive this war. And so I am looking out for my own good. And right now, I think my best chance is for you to ascend after Shyntlara, not Shaylin.”

“Indeed.” Sheyreiza replied gravely. “But Shyntlara is not likely to name me her heir, she will name Shaylin.”

Ghal’tera nodded. “Yes, so, obviously, Shaylin must die. Its not like her loss will hurt our war effort much. With her dead, Shyntlara will have to name you Matron when she ascends.”

Sheyreiza took a deep breath. She could smell the burning flesh of the dead mixed with the acrid odor of the spells used to break down the gates. “Yes.” She looked at Ghal’tera and now used sign language. The Matron is not the only one vying to become Yorthae. I received the vision as well. I too saw the aspect of Lolth and it spoke to me.

Ghal’tera was wide-eyed. “She’ll kill you.” The weapon-mistress blurted out.

Yes. Sheyreiza signed with a nod. But not until she is sure she can win the war without me.

Then we must destroy her first. Ghal’tera replied silently. Of course, we will have to simultaneously slay Shaylin, else Shaylin will ascend and we are back where we started.

I can handle Shaylin, Sheyreiza signed, if you can stake the Matron.

“Me?” Ghal’tera said in surprise. I cannot stake the matron. How can I do that?

You have access to her. Access that I don’t have. I can’t get into her crypt. Sheyreiza admitted in frustration.

Ghal’tera shook her head. No. No, I don’t. I have greater access than you, yes, I can go down into the crypts, yes, but I cannot reach the Matron’s sarcophagus. I do not have that much access.

You must. Sheyreiza replied hastily. Someone must have access. She cannot isolate herself completely. There must be someone.

There is. Ghal’tera answered with a slow, cautious nod. Your daughter. Shein’n. She is the only one the Matron trusts.

************

“You wished to see me, mother?” Shein’n did not even attempt to hide the venom in her voice as she addressed Sheyreiza. The child held malice for Sheyreiza that was palpable, and neither Sheyreiza’s station as a high-priestess nor Sheyreiza’s brute physical power could force Shein’n to hide her hatred. This pleased Sheyreiza to no end; Shein’n was the crown-jewel of Sheyreiza’s revenge against Jain’n, Lonelywood and Corellon. Had not Corellon delivered this babe into the world himself, to save his chosen people? And now where was that babe? In the lightless depths of the underdark, thoroughly consumed by hate, that’s where. It was perfect.

Sheyreiza looked her daughter over for moment. The girl was growing fast now. Not yet a woman, but no longer a child either. “Indeed, I do wish to see you. Sit, daughter.”

“I am busy.” The woman-child replied defiantly. “Matron Shyntlara fills my time with tasks, I don’t ...”

“Sit.” Sheyreiza said curtly, cutting her off. “Matron Shyntlara is not here at the moment, but I am, and if you defy me again you will feel the loving kiss of my snake-headed whip.”

Shein’n glared with anger but did speak. She sat as Sheyreiza directed and fumed silently.

Sheyreiza decided to try and diffuse the tension with an innocuous question. “How goes your training?”

“What training?” Shein’n bit back angrily.

“Your training as a priestess of course.” Sheyreiza tried to control her temper. “You are almost old enough for the academy at Zhennu Orbb. With a few years of training by Matron Shyntlara, you will be much better prepared than any of your peers.”

The young woman snorted derisively. “Not likely. I will not be ready for the academy at all when the time comes. Unless all they do at the academy is clean up after slovenly vampires take their meals and retire to their crypts.”

“She is not training you?” Sheyreiza asked curiously. This was an unexpected development.

“No, she is not training me. Well, she is training me, but only to be her servant.” Shein’n could not contain her anger any longer. She stood and paced around the chair she had been sitting in. “She teaches me nothing. I am a slave. Or worse. And I should not be. I am your daughter, am I not? A daughter of a high-priestess who is daughter of a matron. I should be living like one. I should live here, with all of you, and I should be learning how to be a priestess, from you, but I’m not. I am cleaning up blood in a cold, ugly crypt for an undead thing that treats me like a commoner!”

“You should be trained.” Sheyreiza offered, feeding into Shein’n’s rage.

“Oh don’t even try.” Shein’n snapped. “You don’t care about me at all. You’ve never once tried to train me.”

Sheyreiza was genuinely shocked. It had never even occurred to her that Shein’n did not know the truth of her own situation. “I would train you if I could, but the Matron does not let me.” Sheyreiza replied firmly. “I wanted to train you. I still want to train you. You are my daughter. But in this house, children are raised and trained by others. I would have set that tradition aside for you, you show such potential, but the Matron herself took on your training. She is why I do not teach you.”

Shein’n eyed Sheyreiza suspiciously but did not immediately answer. She sat in the chair again. “I don’t want to be a common servant.” She said finally.

“You shouldn’t be a common servant.” Sheyreiza agreed. “You should be a priestess of the Goddess.”

Shein’n leaned back in the chair. “I should be. But I won’t be. I will grow-up and grow-old and someday die as the maid-servant of a vampire who will outlive the both of us.” Shein’n leaned forward now and signed. Unless you destroy her.

Gods what a priestess she would make! Sheyreiza thought. What a beautifully malicious, ambitious, self-serving, murderous horror this child had become. Sheyreiza could hardly restrain her smile. I cannot destroy her, you know this. Sheyreiza signed in reply. With her vampiric powers she is too strong for me to fight. Her only moment of weakness is when she rests, but I do not have access to her crypt.

I do. Shein’n signed simply.

I know. And now you know why I wanted to see you.

Shein’n was genuinely surprised. You were going to move against Shyntlara?

“Yes.” Sheyreiza confirmed aloud.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Still a child, Sheyreiza thought. I am telling you. Now. And I am telling you because, as you’ve figured out, I need your help.

Why should I help you? Shein’n asked. A perfectly legitimate question, considering the risks a palace coup entailed.

Because if Shyntlara stays Matron, you will stay a servant. Sheyreiza explained.

I want to be trained as a priestess ...

Sheyreiza nodded. I know, and I promise you will be.

Shein’n shook her head. Let me finish. I want to be trained by you. Just you. Not by your servants, or that whore Faerylene or any of the other priestesses, but by you.

It was Sheyreiza’s turn to sit back and think a moment. Slowly she nodded her ascent. “Very well.” I will train you.

“Swear it.” Shein’n demanded.

I swear, Sheyreiza signed, by my faith, that I will train you personally in return for your help in overthrowing the Matron.

“I could have you killed now, you know.” Shein’n taunted.

A smile crept upon Sheyreiza’s face. “And I could kill you before you reached the door.” But these threats are meaningless. She continued in sign-language. Arrange my death and you will stay Shyntlara’s slave and never live the life you desire. If I slay you, I will not be able to reach Shyntlara and eventually she will consume me. Yes, we each old some power over the other, but Shyntlara holds sway over both of us. So, let us unite against her and work out our own conflict some other day.

Shein’n stood from the chair. “As you wish ... mother.”

********************

Sheyreiza bathed and dressed. She had a meeting with one of the instructors at the school of wizardry her nephew Yazaghar attended. This meeting would put into place the final piece of her plan to usurp Shyntlara’s throne. Shaylin, Sheyreiza’s older sister, had taken the now houseless Nasadran archmage as a lover. He had to be removed from play before Shaylin could be killed. Sheyreiza’s idea was simple; she would arrange for the archmage to be invited to the wizard-school as a guest lecturer. The archmage would naturally smell a trap, but there would be payment and flattery involved and in all likelihood, arrogance and greed would overcome suspicion and caution. While the archmage was away at the wizard-school, Ghal’tera would murder Shaylin. Meanwhile, Sheyreiza would enter the crypts with Shein’n under the guise of tutoring her while Shyntlara rested in her crypt. Then Shein’n would give Sheyreiza access to the crypt and then Sheyreiza, Faerylene and Shein’n would stake and destroy Shyntlara. Once that was done, they would meet up with Ghal’tera, where upon Sheyreiza and Ghal’tera would turn on Faerylene and kill her as well.

In the span of a few bloody minutes power would pass from Shyntlara and Shaylin to Sheyreiza and Ghal’tera, and Sheyreiza rivals for the title of Yorthae would be dead. By the time the archmage returned from his engagement as a guest lecturer, the coup would be over and he would have no choice but to accept Sheyreiza as Matron of Auvryndar unless he wished to fight the entire house on his own.

Her preparations complete, Sheyreiza slung her Lolth's Blessing from her belt and exited her chamber on her way to the wizard-school. She did not get far: waiting outside her door were two of the Matron’s vampiric guards. Sheyreiza's heart sunk; it was over. The Matron must have discovered the plot, or she must have decided to kill Sheyreiza early to avoid competition for the honor of becoming Yorthae.

“The Matron wishes to see you.” One of the vampires said coldly. “Now.”

Sheyreiza’s eyes narrowed to mere slits and her hand moved slowly towards the hilt of Lolth’s Blessing. She could destroy these two vampires, she was sure of it. But what then? Fight her way through the house to the throne room? Gather Ghal’tera and Faerylene and the warband along the way? Confront the Matron now, directly? No, that was suicide. Sheyreiza could destroy these two vampiric guards, but even with Ghal’tera and the entire warband she could not defeat Shyntlara and the rest of her guard in a straight fight. She took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Of course.” Her hand dropped to her side and she walked with the vampire guards towards the throne room like a rothe to the slaughterhouse. An old, childish proverb-rhyme ran through Sheyreiza’s head. Where strength won’t avail, cunning might prevail. And if not, Sheyreiza would soon be embarking for the Demonweb. Of course, Lolth was still silent and when Sheyreiza went to the Demonweb with Hartex, there had been nothing there. And that thought made her blood run cold; what then is the fate of those who are faithful, but whose god is dead? She did not know, but she was fairly confident she would soon find out.

[Vendrin]

Very nice to see it from your side of the screen Mik.

[wvincenti]

So much good to read these days.



-Bill