SKETCH #1
Matron Mother Khaless of House Rilynt'tar
Spiders sat on the walls all around them, ebony carapaces shining like rich onyx. To other people who spent their days on the surface, such a sight would be no doubt uncomfortable, but for Khaless and her guest, they were as common as grass in the world above. The spies of Lolth-and perhaps other industrious watchers-the arachnids continued to move about and weave their intricate, gossamer webs.
Khaless had been watching them earlier, appraising their movements with a subtle appreciation of their graces. They were simpler and easier to please than other drow, and a good deal quieter. The last trait greatly endeared them to the Matron. They served as her eyes and ears throughout the city—her city. And they had previously provided her with a distraction from Talabaere Helviiryn. Unfortunately, there was no ignoring the damnable woman now.
"That evidence must be destroyed!" the enraged Matron screeched.
Khaless studied her nails with an air of mild disinterest, tendons in the back of her hands flexing out like fans as she spread her delicate fingers apart. A silver band adorned with webs and four tiny spiders flashed as she turned over her fingers, the tiny ruby chips of their eyes glowing in the dim, flickering flame-like light emanating from hanging globes all around the walls. A larger, unlit one sat on a pedestal by Khaless's seat. It seemed dusty and quite unremarkable for being the center of House Rilynt'tar's alarm system, linked by magic to the network of suspended glass spheres that spanned throughout the stronghold.
"What you think 'must' or 'must not' happen is really none of my concern, Talabaere. Now calm down before you rupture a coronary artery. I can hear your pulse going through the roof from here. It's hardly healthy."
"You upstart!" the Matron Mother of House Helviiryn hissed. "I am fourth Matron on the Noble Council. You're just some slave brat who got lucky. Blood will tell!"
"Yes, about inbreeding," the younger drowess said coolly, her lip curling slightly in distaste. "How long do you think you will last in V'elddrinnsshar once the Church knows of your...infidelity, shall we say? Reverend Mother Malavin Ken'ar is not an understanding woman, and I think you'll be hard pressed to find some excuse for your behavior that even the most lenient priestess would accept."
Talabaere twitched dangerously. Khaless guessed that on the scale of volcanic rages, Helviiryn's matron was nearing the equivalent of an eruption that kills thousands and hides the sun for a year. The younger female allowed herself a thin, triumphant smile.
"What do you want?" Talabaere asked bitterly. The bitch has me, and there's no mistaking that. No doubt some resources or gold will be enough to buy her off. Still, the idea of being indebted to this usurper sat badly with her.
Khaless's dark eyes were unreadable. "Don't trouble yourself with such petty details now, Talabaere. I act out of the goodness of my heart."
"The goodness of your heart?" the other matron queried, her look turning to one of uneasy puzzlement. This was not the kind of game the average priestess would play. No one ever did something for nothing.
"Have a good evening, Matron Helviiryn—I'm certain you have more pressing business to attend to than the quibbling details a house as low as my own would tax your patience with. And as for the evidence, I'll torch it myself once matters are settled. You can be present if you so wish."
"I do," Talabaere said shortly, swallowing dryly. Khaless just watched patiently. The other matron caught her gaze, then looked away after a minute or so. Her eyes were too like Reverend Daughter Xunaere's to be met for any period of time, irises the color of death ringing equally dark pupils, with occasional light wisps of silver suggesting webs hidden in those eternal depths.
Helviiryn's matron excused herself tensely and strode out. She was only too glad to have left Rilynt'tar, the Court of Thieves.
Khaless sighed. "Istrysn, I know you're listening."
A male drow seemed to materialize before her. "What can I do for you, Matron Khaless?" he asked with a sweeping bow.
"Talabaere's evidence. I want you to make copies of it. When you have finished that task, bring the duplicates to me."
"Copies?" Istrysn asked, surprised.
"Always have security to fall back on," Khaless said, a crafty smile dancing across her face for a moment.
"You are quite the schemer, aren't you?" he said with a dry chuckle.
"Aren't we all," the Matron of Rilynt'tar stated absentmindedly, straightening the circlet of red gold that rested on her forehead. The male winked and sauntered off down the West Hall, humming quietly to himself. He dared not betray her-Khaless was the only one between the former spy for Vhaeraun and the Spider Queen's zealots. So far, he was useful enough to keep alive.
She rose from the great stone chair that served for her own seat. and walked down the East Hall in her usual willowy, graceful gait. Trailing her fingers across the smooth metallic surface of the two statues standing as silent sentinels on either side of the door, she reflected that it hadn't been too long ago that she had been forced to polish the adamantite mylochar—or soul spiders, as surface dwellers would call them—to a perfect shine. Her back began to give a phantom ache at the memory, and the ghostly crack of a snake-whip echoed in her ears.
She found no hungering nostalgia for the old days when Vasva was Matron Mother of House Rilynt'tar, and the house itself was a powerless ruin of ancient glory days, a festering sore on the cityscape of V'elddrinnsshar. This was the case no longer, of course.
Khaless retreated from her thoughts and continued down the hall. Her footsteps echoed softly down the stone hall as she made her way onward, almost
The only pause in her movement towards the door came as she passed by a mirror. Since she was about to join the Matrons of the Bel'la El'lar, it benefited her to at least check her appearance once.
The face in the mirror was not envied overtly by highborn priestesses, but one Khaless was pleased with. Her features were sharper than most drow would have liked, but pretty all the same. Small rings of red gold pierced both the cartilage and lobes of her ears, each one containing some protective enchantment. Her frame itself was small and surprisingly frail for a drowess of her stature, its weakness suggesting that she was malnourished in her youth—but few drow of means would dare point this out.
Dark eyes gazed back at her, heavily hooded and long lashed, gave her the appearance of being half asleep all the time. She had accented it with an air of relaxed calm and simpler dress, moving at a smooth, lazy-seeming pace until her motions needed to be lightning fast. It took someone who knew Khaless quite well to see the glitter of movement in her eyes that was always present as she observed everything that went on before her. And her ears were always open.
Ivory hair drifted over to fall in front of her left eye again. Khaless let it, narrow hand snaking back to make sure the small knife in a sheath at the back of her neck was still hidden. She relaxed, finding there was still enough hair that had remained in place to conceal the weapon.
Her lips curved involuntarily into a smile as she thought of Urlar's warning. Be prepared, he had said. Such an admonishment was unnecessary at best.
The expression of satisfaction faded all too quickly as she replayed the day's earlier events in her mind. "What in the Demonweb is Xunaere up to?"
Any listener would have been startled to hear Khaless utter a phrase that revealed a gap in her knowledge. But of course she would find some way to remedy the problem and twist the Reverend Daughter's scheme to her own advantage. After all, V'elddrinnsshar was a city of intrigue, and Khaless was its queen—no whisper in the darkest corner of the city escaped her ears, no secret stayed hidden from her.
The Matron Mothers of the ruling council came and went, but the Khaless Rilynt'tar remained forever.
"It's so hard to stay on top," the Matron murmured to herself airily, continuing towards the main hall. More important business awaited than blackmailing Matron Talabaere Helviiryn, as amusing as it was.
Lolth be praised, all victory is her doing...
