Chapter XII

The messenger approached Matron Malice tentatively, afraid of the matron mother and her daughter at her side, the ill-tempered Briza. He quivered at the sight of her hand, already, fingering her whip, her dark fingers at ease around the dangerous weapon.

"I was told you have a message for me," Malice said to him, her voice strong. She had not been a matron mother for many years, but already she held the dignity and air of one who had been a matron mother for centuries.

"I do," he replied. "I bear a message from the surface raid."

Malice shifted in her seat. "And your message would be...? The male could sense her patience being strained so he took in a deep breath, rambling the next words together:

"Zaknafein Do'Urden is dead."

Even Briza-so feared and dreaded-could not hold back a gasp. Malice took the news calmly, though a dark cast drew over her face. "How?" the matron mother questioned shortly.

The messenger's mouth felt immediately dry. "No one knows, Matron Malice," he answered her, bowing his head. "He disappeared. The last he was seen, he was chasing a female. Two drow followed him. Both of them were found dead. We can only presume...."

"I see," Malice breathed, raising one hand so that her chin was supported comfortably. "Leave me," she commanded Briza and the messenger. Briza glanced at her mother, sensing the anxiety in her voice.

Still, she did not question her mother's orders. With a glare at the messenger, she briskly walked from the room. The male followed, not daring to be alone with any female, much less Matron Malice.

The doors of the room closed with a resounding slam and Malice wearily closed her eyes, feeling more tired than she had felt in some time.

Her Zak, her Zaknafein? Dead? It just wasn't possible. He who could kill earth elementals and high priestesses, he who was called the best weapons- master in all of Menzoberranzan...this drow was dead?

"Impossible," Malice said aloud. Her word echoed in the chamber. Zaknafein could not have been killed on a simple surface raid.

But then, where was he? He had not returned with the party who had gone to the surface raid. He had not returned and now, as this messenger had told her, he had died?

"He was just a male," Malice said to herself in some vain attempt to ease the pain she now felt. "Replaceable."

But no matter what she knew Lloth taught, Malice knew in her heart that Zaknafein was not "replaceable."

*** *** ***

"News has come concerning the raid," Melyac announced to Jarlaxle. The mercenary nodded knowingly, having expected the reports to come.

"A village of humans was attacked. The leader of the raid called the assault successful." Jarlaxle's lips thinned. "Successful" was a word to be dreaded in the drow language.

He paused for a moment, contemplating on this new thought. Only when had Melyac cleared his throat, did Jarlaxle look up, his attention back fully on the conversation at hand. "Were there any drow casualties?"

"Yes," Melyac replied, "three. One was a soldier from the fifteenth house, the second a weapons-master of the eighteenth house." He stopped, unsure how to go on.

"And the third?" Jarlaxle asked absently. He had picked up a piece of parchment and had begun reading it, his mind wandering yet again.

"The third was Zaknafein Do'Urden," Melyac informed him. Jarlaxle lowered the parchment immediately.

"Zaknafein?" he echoed. Melyac nodded in reply. "Surely, some mistake?"

"None, sir," the lieutenant responded. "He was missing when the party set off for the city. Scouts were sent to look for him, but he was not to be seen."

Jarlaxle lost the surprised expression he had had on his face when he first heard the news. "Not seen?" he asked Melyac.

"No, sir," Melyac said again.

Jarlaxle swallowed hard, his hat sliding back on his head so that the plume lazily leaned to one side. Zaknafein? His one friend at the Academy...dead at the hands of a human? Not possible, not in the very least.

"Thank you, Melyac," Jarlaxle said stiffly. "You are dismissed." Melyac left without another word. He knew of Jarlaxle's friendship with the weapons-master of House Do'Urden, and he knew that Jarlaxle would need silence, even if he himself had never experienced the loss of a friend....

For nearly an hour, Jarlaxle sat in his chair, his chin propped up on a single palm. His fingers drummed the side of his face slowly; his thoughts too dark for any lively beat.

Zaknafein had been killed? he thought again. No matter how many times he reviewed the facts, it never seemed to match up. Zaknafein had been captured perhaps? By whom, if the village's destruction had been "successful"? Where was his body, if he had been killed?

And surely-surely!-Zaknafein would have been able to fight his way free from whatever demons possessed his body?

"Unless the demons were his own," Jarlaxle murmured, hardly registering that he had spoken the words out loud.

Jarlaxle leaned back, rubbing his temples. He tried to think of the last time he had seen someone lament for the dying. Jarlaxle let out a wistful sigh when he could think of no one. He was alone in his inner weeping, and now that Zaknafein Do'Urden was gone, he was alone in Menzoberranzan.

*** *** ***

Maelent leaned back in her chair, feeling the comfort the cushions provided. Lea'Veril of House D'teknil stood before her calmly, a serene, judging smile on her face, nearly placid despite the environment around her.

"I feel that I am slightly baffled over why you are here, Lea'Veril," Maelent started slowly, unsure of how to begin.

Lea's smile only grew, but there was a certain glimmer in her eyes that told of a darker truth behind her friendliness. "Matron Maelent, I would like to come to nurse some old grudges between our two houses."

"Our two houses?" Maelent repeated. "Am I to understand that Matron L'lonneal has passed on? I had not heard...." The fake sympathy stole the smile from Lea's face.

"My mother still lives," Lea corrected stiffly. "I speak on her behalf."

Maelent paused to consider this. "Hmm, I was under the impression that Matron L'lonneal still despised me for reasons unknown. Has she truly had a change of heart?"

Lea chose her words carefully before she spoke. "My mother lies on her deathbed, it is true. Who are we to say that those experiences will not change one's soul?"

Maelent laughed. "Foolish girl," she chided, a broad grin on her face, "let your mother keep her hatred for me and let her die happy. You fear the possibility of battle while your tenure as matron mother is new. You fear my house coming to attack yours. Be honest with me, Lea'Veril. I can read you easily."

Lea did not back down from the Maelent's fierce attack of words. "I understand that House Monstre has wanted to climb in its ascension many times by attacking House D'teknil. Rumors of that manner never seem to fade."

Maelent still smiled down at Lea. "My house is indeed looking for a way to grow in power. What house is not? Yet, I know that rumors tend to be just rumors. I wouldn't listen to them as much as you seem to."

"Rumors can be the only warning a house receives," Lea reminded Maelent caustically, eyeing up the other drow with a sudden suspiciousness. Maelent seemed taken aback.

"I would not dare attack house D'teknil while a matron mother is so inflicted. Even grudges are put on hold for those of such station. But, perhaps, rumors might fold over to a new rule...." Maelent coughed, bring up a curled hand to her mouth. "However," she said when she had finished, "I know that my house is at the moment content with its position in hierarchy."

Lea bowed. "Thank you for clearing up this discrepancy," she replied in a suddenly strained tone, "and thank you for your hospitality this afternoon."

"My pleasure, Lea'Veril," Maelent told her with the same mock politeness. "And send Matron L'lonneal my regards."

Lea gave a curt nod before she was escorted from the room. The empty room filled her heart with new worries.

"She knows," Maelent whispered to the darkness.

Let her know, the voice within her cackled.

_______________________________________

My Fellow Penguins:

Okay, because of some complete DISASTER that involved me, my barbaric English teacher, and my sudden decline in writing-confidence, the only thing I am able to write now appears to be R. A. Salvatore fanfictions. Imagine that.

The entire back-story is that I despise my English teacher because she said that the way I write isn't the "proper" way to write. She has no support for the imagination whatsoever (!), and I dread every class with her. * smiles sweetly * Ain't it just peachy?

So, as I have not written on my novel in about 4 months now, and The Lone Drow is coming out soon and I started rereading the series over, I have learned that the ONLY thing I have the will to write are fanfictions with Drizzt and Company. It's so sad!

No, no! Don't get be wrong, I * love * Drizzt-and ALL of Salvatore's characters for that matter-but this is seriously the only thing I can bring myself to write.

Oh, my English teacher is evil.

So, that's why I have been posting updates a bit more than usual as of late. Haha, hope you are enjoying it.

I really sat down the other day and planned Invisible Chains and how the rest of the plot was going to go. (I was mostly just coasting in the beginning, writing random things and going, "Hmm, this is nice.") Now, I have a detailed plot so hold on to your hats, Aithne's rollin'.

Thanks again to all my reviewers, especially SilverWolf and Chichix. I appreciate reviews more than people know. Thank ya. =)

Hmm, I think that is about it. Thanks again, everyone, and have a great Halloween!

~Aithne (TheBladedancer)