"Realms of the Underdark 2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthologies)

why she had gathered them together. "I have concocted a plan," she announced in
a bold voice. "A plan that, if it succeeds, will bring the favor of Lloth upon
House Do'Urden.
Vierna and Maya, Briza's younger sisters, exchanged puzzled looks.
"But do we not already enjoy the favor of the Spider Queen?" Vierna asked in a
tentative voice.
Maya's tone was more confident. "After all, we are Ninth House of Menzoberranzan
now."
Malice's eyes narrowed as she regarded her two youngest daughters. Though both
were nearly high priestesses, they were not such yet, and should not have spoken
without her leave. Yet their words served her, and she chose to let the affront
pass without comment.
"Yes, we are the Ninth House," Malice replied. "But is it not better to be
eighth than ninth?"
A hot light ignited in the eyes of her daughters, and Malice knew she had chosen
well. Being Eighth House meant gaining a seat on the ruling council-a seat that
one of her daughters would one day inherit. A smile coiled about the corners of
Malice's dark red lips. Desire was a stronger motivator than punishment. Now
Vierna and Maya gazed at her with eager expressions.
Malice raised a hand to her throat. "I am thirsty. I require wine."
Throughout the discussion, her two sons had stood in silence to one side. It was
not a male's position to speak concerning house affairs unless directly asked.
At eleven years, and by far the younger of the two, Drizzt had only recently
become page prince, and was not yet a true noble. Thus, serving the matron
mother was his duty. However, the boy seemed not to have heard her words; he
continued to gaze at his feet, as a page prince was taught to do in the presence
of nobles. After an uncomfortable moment, Dinin, who was elderboy of House
Do'Urden, boxed Drizzt on the ear, jerking the boy out of his stupor.
"You heard the matron mother," Dinin hissed. "She requires wine."
The boy Drizzt blinked and gave a jerky nod. He hurried to a gilded table upon
which rested crystal glasses and a decanter of dark mushroom wine.
Malice did not wait, but went on. "The Festival of the Founding approaches, the
day on which we recall the founding of Menzoberranzan over five thousand years
ago. Do any of you know what is to happen on that day?"
"I know."
All stared in shock at the boy Drizzt. He stood before Malice, holding out the
cup of wine. For Dinin, a full-grown elf, to speak without leave would have been
a grave offense. For a page prince, it was unthinkable. However, before Malice
could react, the boy continued.
"On the Festival of the Founding, the Spider Queen is supposed to appear
somewhere in the city." Drizzt frowned as he thought out the details. "Only she
appears in disguise. I suppose that's so she can see what the drow really think
about her."
Briza was the first to recover. She lunged forward, gripping her snake-headed
whip. "You idiot!" she snarled. "That's only an old story." She raised the whip.
Drizzt stared at her in fear but did not flinch.
A hand shot out, halting the whip's descent.
"It happens to be a true story, you fool," Malice hissed, her rage now directed
at her daughter.
Briza stared in dull astonishment.