Chapter 15

Chapter 15

No longer Page Prince

Vierna knocked carefully at the door, and waited patiently for the inevitable confused scuffle indoors. A few more muttered curses and someone half-staggered to the door, stopped, and pulled back a chair to sit down. She sighed.

"Come in, Vierna," Zak said calmly from inside.

She opened the door to sweep her eyes disapprovingly over the mess that she was certain had not been cleaned since she had last looked in about two years ago. The only things that seemed to have changed position were the chemical experimental equipment.

Zaknafein turned around to regard her, rising to bow fluidly. She nodded stiffly at him. "Matron Malice requires your presence," she said.

"So soon?" Zak grinned. He enjoyed irritating Vierna almost as much as he enjoyed irritating Jarlaxle. And possibly Drizzt.

The corners of Vierna's mouth turned down momentarily in displeasure. "If you've noticed, patron, today is the page prince's sixteenth birthday."

Zak blinked, then sighed and fumbled for the staff. Zaire surfaced from under the table where she had been batting the large jewel that had belonged on Gromph's staff in a bored fashion, and followed them out of the room, acknowledging Vierna's existence with a cross between a hiccup and a bark.

Vierna walked to Jarlaxle's door and knocked on it in turn. An almost-identical confused scuffle emerged, but this time the weapon master opened the door himself, looking faintly disheveled, hastily buckling on his swords.

"You're not supposed to answer the door, Jarlaxle," Zak grinned. "And I won't even ask what you were doing."

Vierna raised her eyebrow. "Next time I shall wait until you open the door, Zaknafein."

"Damn," Zak muttered.

"What's going on?" Jarlaxle asked blankly.

::Drizzt is sixteen,:: Lanfaye informed them curtly. ::And all of you are late. Begging your pardon, of course, sister.::

Vierna nodded graciously to the air, and led them all away quickly in the direction of the family chapel.

"How's Drizzt been so far?" Jarlaxle asked curiously.

"Been?" Vierna mused, "He shows promise. He has some magical talent, that much is clear."

"Magical talent?" Zak asked.

Vierna shot him an amused glance. "Afraid for your position, Zaknafein?"

Zak shrugged. "I never am."

"Whatever you say," Vierna said mildly, "He does not have your memory, of course, but if he were to join Sorcere he would eventually be a very powerful mage."

"Powerful mage or not," Zak retorted, "He still has to study."

Jarlaxle grinned at Zak. "Let him be a fighter, then."

"We'd see," Zak said calmly, "Another Do'Urden on the Master's circle wouldn't be too bad."

"Or in the Melee-Magthere circle," Vierna put in.

"That remains to be seen," Jarlaxle shrugged. "He can hardly be weapon master if he becomes so. And I know I don't want to be a Master. Silly life."

"Thank you very much," Zak said dryly.

"You're welcome," Jarlaxle smiled.

"I can't believe the two of you are even nobles in the first place," Vierna muttered. She was considerably more respectful of the both of them when she was alone with them, and especially when she was alone with the both of them.

"If we weren't nobles you wouldn't be here in the first place," Zak pointed out.

"Sometimes I wonder if that was much of a loss," Vierna commented, then paused. "I'm wandering again. This is all your fault."

"His fault? I'm not surprised," Zak grinned at Jarlaxle.

"Hey!" Jarlaxle protested, "She's not my daughter."

"I was talking about the both of you," Vierna said.

"Damn," Zak remarked.

"Perhaps so," Jarlaxle agreed solemnly.

Vierna entered the antechamber first, announcing their presence in her most reverent voice.

Zaknafein and Jarlaxle entered together, Zaire trailing behind them, noting that Malice was already seated on her throne, and the chairs stacked against the wall. A formal meeting, apparently, as only the Matron was allowed a seat.

Zak nodded at Malice, and Jarlaxle did so as well, nudging Zak unobtrusively in the ribs at Malice's slightly swelled belly. Lanfaye grinned at them from the shadows of the throne. Malice nodded to Dantrena, who came forward with the house piwafwi, handing it to Vierna respectfully.

Drizzt's face broke out in an elated smile as Vierna ran through the appropriate, though rather useless incantations and placed the magical cloak on his shoulders. Useless but formal, and therefore impressive, eh?

"Greetings, Zaknafein and Jarlaxle Do'Urden," Drizzt said immediately, drawing stunned looks from around the room, "I am Drizzt, Elderboy of House Do'Urden, no longer page prince. I can look at you now…I mean openly. And not at your boots. Mother told me so." His smile disappeared when he saw Malice's scowl.

Vierna looked stunned, as did Taralyn. Dantrena looked confused, but Lanfaye looked faintly amused.

Zaknafein quickly bit down on his lip, but Jarlaxle let out a chuckle before gulping down and doing the same when Malice's burning glare swiveled over to him. Zaire made a sound like a chirp.

Drizzt took a step away quickly, and Jarlaxle let out another chortle before turning it into a cough. Zak bowed his head to hide his grin, then went through a small bout of indecision. To get in trouble, or help the boy out of it?

Inwardly grumbling at his unwanted good nature, he took a long step forward. "Elderboy, eh?" he asked.

Drizzt looked up and opened his mouth to say something. Zak hurriedly used a bit of magic to clamp it shut. At least the boy was smart enough to understand and hide his affronted expression.

The boy would make a very...interesting mage.

Malice, with an obvious effort, let her anger go. Zak was impressed. Her tenuous grip on her temper had become more frayed of late during the months of pregnancy. Even Jarlaxle refrained from irritating her now.

"Time for him to train," Jarlaxle agreed, walking up to Zak.

Malice managed an amused smile. Zak blinked, and she grinned – actually grinned! At him. "What suggestions do you have, patron?" she asked, "For him to join Sorcere or Melee-Magthere?"

"Obviously my suggestion is Sorcere," Zak said dryly, "Apparently the boy has some talent."

"I suggest Melee-Magthere," Jarlaxle said, "The boy has remarkable reflexes that better befits a warrior."

Drizzt watched on, wide-eyed, as the two brothers argued his fate back and forth, though the smiles in their eyes took out any insult they would imply to each other.

"Wizards are good from far," Jarlaxle said, "But near..." Abruptly his sword whipped out towards Zaknafein's throat. Zak reacted immediately, blocking the blow with the staff, deftly using the long end to hook out Jarlaxle's foot, and then smashing the top end on the weapon master's neck. Jarlaxle fell spread-eagled on the floor while Zaire quickly pounced, settling on top of the weapon master and yawning to show her sharp teeth. Then he grinned at Malice.

"You've proven your point, Zaknafein," Malice smiled, "But the question is, can the boy do that?"

"If he learns," Zaknafein sniffed.

"Get off, you silly bugger," Jarlaxle muttered, shifting. Zaire looked at Zak, who shrugged. The cheetah got off after pressing a paw, claws out, onto Jarlaxle's chain mail pointedly.

"You didn't have to hit that hard," the weapon master said accusingly as he got up, rubbing his neck ruefully. "Okay, with the exception of Zaknafein here, mages are usually useless up close."

"Yeah?" Zak asked, "Would you like to see the end of a bolt, point blank range?"

"Unless he has an opening towards raw magic," Malice said, "The boy cannot do that without chanting. Jarlaxle is right somewhat, patron."

"I could probe to see if he can," Zak said defensively, "And he could learn."

"Why not ask the boy?" Lanfaye suggested lazily after a while. Zaknafein and Jarlaxle immediately stopped their miniature debate, then looked as one at Malice.

Malice looked at Drizzt, who in turn looked rather stunned.

"A bad precedent," Malice murmured, "The Matron has always selected."

"Well, he could voice his sentiments aloud, then you approve," Jarlaxle said.

"Is he not too young?" Vierna asked.

"I'm not," Drizzt said quickly. Apparently Zak had forgotten to renew the gag. Malice glared at him. "Perhaps you have a point, Vierna. Jarlaxle, you said dexterity. Can you prove it?"

Jarlaxle nodded and took out a coin from his pocket, handing it to Drizzt. "Flip it, boy."

Drizzt looked at the both of them blankly, but they were staring at him with intent expressions. He shrugged, and did so.

**

"That was a good trick," Zak told Drizzt grudgingly when they came out from the chapel.

Jarlaxle grinned at the mage.

"Don't say anything, Jarlaxle," Zak said sourly. "A fighter it is. Well, young Drizzt, good luck to you."

"Don't worry, Zak," Jarlaxle said with a grin, "Maybe this next child is male. Then he can be a mage."

Zak raised an eyebrow. "Unlike a fighter," he said slowly as if speaking to a defective child, "A mage must be born with talent."

Jarlaxle grinned. "You're his father."

Zak sighed. "Well then. I believe I'd have to close up Drizzt's filter until normal standards," he said.

"Close?" Drizzt asked.

"Too dangerous for untrained to have too much access to raw magic," Zak said coolly, with a wink at Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle snorted. "So maybe he'd be able to make brighter faerie fire."

"Say what you like," Zak said dryly, "The magic will come out some day, in some form. Maybe it'd just be a meager charming of creatures, maybe he'd be able to do bolts, but it'd come."

"When it does, I'm sure you'd deal with it," Jarlaxle said, with a grin. Zak glared at him.

"Where are we going now?" Drizzt asked curiously.

Zak raised an eyebrow at Jarlaxle. "Well, if you were a mage, to my room. Since you're not, you're going to the weapon hall. May you enjoy your stay there."

"Admirable," Jarlaxle said, "Not a hint of spite."

"That's beneath you, Jarlaxle," Zak said calmly, "So he's going to be a fighter. Well then, one way to look at it is that if he's going to be as good as you'd say, he'd do well in Melee-Magthere to be a Master. If half as good, he'd at least take your place."

Jarlaxle grinned. "I'd take that chance."

"I'm here, you know," Drizzt said pointedly.

Zak glanced at him. "So you are," he said, "So?"

Drizzt glared at him. "I'm not page prince anymore," he tried again.

"So you are," Jarlaxle grinned, "So?"

Drizzt's mouth opened in indignation to bite out an angry retort, found he couldn't think of anything, and shut it again before stalking off in front of them. Zaire chirped again, and the two brothers shook with laughter.