VI
"Who was it?"
"If anyone knows, they are not speaking," Banon said, pacing the chapel of House Hen Wyneb anxiously. Sitting on her throne just behind the jeweled obsidian spider altar, Matron Ceridwen was nearly in a rage as she looked over her assembled family. "What little we do know is that they were very well trained and coordinated."
"That shipment was going to House Caer Llion," Matron Ceridwen said, standing from her throne to appraise her daughter. "First a spy trying to infiltrate our ranks, and now this. We are going to war, and still none of you know who our enemy is!"
"Whoever it is has been very careful to conceal their tracks," Maddox said, taking a half step forward. Still dressed in the crimson and black robes of an instructor of Llyfrdy-Lledreth, the short, unassuming wizard had rushed home to answer his mother's hasty summons, and was still slightly at a loss for the entire situation. Matron Ceridwen turned on him as he spoke, her anger growing rapidly.
"You are one of the most prized wizards in the academy!" the matron bellowed. "And yet you cannot use your magic to discover one single clue as to our enemies!"
"Matron mother, we will scour the district where the attack took place," Daere interjected quickly, coming to her brother's aid. Bradwr, standing silently to the rear of the assembled family, had always noticed a strange connection between those two siblings, possibly from their common father. Another problem in removing Maddox, he thought. "Someone in that area must know who it was that attacked us! Between Maddox's arcane magic and my clerical spells, we will find out who it was!"
"Then go," matron Ceridwen said, checking her anger with the greatest of effort. "Do not waste any more time here. Every second we delay leaves us vulnerable to a more damaging assault."
"As you wish, mistress," Daere said. She motioned quickly to Maddox, and the two of them hastily exited the chapel. For a long moment the chamber fell silent as Ceridwen looked over the rest of her family. Banon had stopped pacing, but the anxious look on her face told Bradwr that she was truly concerned with the situation. Llawr remained quiet at his position a step behind the matron's throne, his face emotionless. Tarren, Ceridwen's youngest child, seemed ready to bolt at a moment's notice if her past failure at weeding out a spy in the market was brought against her.
"None of you have seen anything," Matron Ceridwen began, examining each of her children in turn. "No one has attempted anything against you. No one has been following you. None of you have seen anything amiss in the markets, or among the other houses."
"No, mistress," Banon said with a hint of guilt.
"Only the spy, mistress," Tarren added nervously. Ceridwen turned to Bradwr. The secondboy thought for a moment, considering his meeting the previous day with Fychan Evnissien. Could it have been mere coincidence?
"Nothing, mistress," Bradwr said, looking down and shaking his head. Ceridwen glared at her younger son for a long moment. Bradwr remained silent, praying that she did not see anything in his eyes or face that gave away his intentions. If House Evnissien did turn out to be responsible for both the spy and the caravan attack, the secondboy would turn his knowledge in at a later date, but for the moment, Bradwr needed Fychan to remove Maddox.
"Banon," Matron Ceridwen said, turning away from Bradwr. The secondboy felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Go to House Caer Llion. Tell them that we will replace what was lost. We cannot afford to lose Matron Vala's favor at this time."
"Yes, mistress," Banon said, bowing. The eldest daughter left swiftly, leaving only Llawr, Bradwr, and Tarren with the matron mother. Ceridwen ignored her patron completely as she inspected her two youngest children.
"The two of you have allies and contacts," the matron mother assumed. Bradwr and Tarren both nodded quickly. "Then use them. Find the threat to our house, before we are destroyed."
"Yes mistress," both siblings replied at the same time, fearful of what their mother would do to them if they failed. As Bradwr left the chapel, however, he found his fear rapidly fading into relief that the matron mother had not discovered his possible alliance to deal with Maddox. It would be risky, especially if House Evnissien was their enemy, but the secondboy had a feeling he could use the alliance to gain even greater standing in his own house.
"I heard House Hen Wyneb had a most unfortunate accident."
"As did I," Arwydd said, walking easily through the narrow alleys of the Central Market with Pryderi at her side. Once again, neither the priestess nor the wizard wore the identifying marks of their respective houses as they wandered the streets, hoping to avoid notice as they listened for news about the repercussions of Naomhin's successful raid. "I heard they lost a shipment headed to House Caer Llion."
"Yes, I think that was it," Pryderi said, a faint note of concern in his voice. Arwydd picked up on it easily, and turned to House Gwalchgwynn's elderboy.
"Something's troubling you," the priestess concluded. Pryderi smiled slightly.
"Not me, but Matron Morfyl," the wizard corrected. "She worries that such a slight to House Caer Llion could draw them into the battle."
"They would turn on Evnissien, not Gwalchgwynn," Arwydd said. Pryderi simply chuckled at the statement.
"I expected a better ploy from you," the wizard said. "Once they find we have joined you, we will become just as much a target."
"Pryderi, you worry too much," Arwydd said, turning a warm smile to the wizard next to her as she stopped in the center of the street. The priestess knew that she needed to keep the alliance alive; no matter what Gwalchgwynn could offer in the coming war, House Evnissien needed every soldier and every gold coin they could scrape out of their alliances. "How much can Caer Llion afford to waste resources on a trifling matter between lower houses? They have to worry about House Siryddion, after all. Haven't you heard the rumors?"
"What rumors?" Pryderi inquired. Arwydd giggled slightly at the elderboy's apparent ignorance, even though she was just creating the "rumors" on the spot.
"Well, I happened to hear the other day, when you were supposed to have met with me, that House Siryddion had snapped up the contracts of a half dozen wizards and almost twice as many fighters," Arwydd lied smoothly. Although she refused to admit it to herself, she was still disappointed, and slightly upset, that the wizard had not shown up to deliver the news of his house's aid personally almost a week earlier at the tavern. "House Caer Llion will be far too busy watching their own backs to assist Hen Wyneb."
"You must have quite the spy network to have discovered that," Pryderi said with a laugh. Arwydd allowed herself a faint smile, uncertain if Pryderi had actually believed her deception. "So, what would mighty House Evnissien have of my meager family?"
"What more could I desire than your charming company?" Arwydd inquired coyly, her smile growing more confident. Pryderi grinned at the remark.
"Truly, mistress," the wizard pressed.
"We will need money, for arms, for mercenary contracts, and for… other services," Arwydd explained. Pryderi nodded, his expression telling Arwydd that he had expected just such a request.
"How fortunate for me that I was on my way to do a bit of shopping myself," the wizard said, taking a small, black velvet pouch from his loose robes. Pryderi held it out to the priestess. "It is yours, mistress. I think you shall find this an acceptable beginning to our alliance."
Arwydd took the pouch from the wizard slowly, opening the drawstrings as her eyes shifted from Pryderi to the tiny bag. Just inside, the priestess could make out the dull, bloody sparkle of rubies. If Arwydd was correct, the stones could easily pay for over a dozen soldiers.
"And one more for you, mistress," Pryderi added, producing a glittering pendant from his sleeve. Arwydd gasped as she turned to the new gift. The wizard held in his hand a thin silver chain to which a brilliant white opal, sparkling with motes of blue and purple, was attached. "This one is a more… personal gift," Pryderi said as Arwydd managed to tear her stunned gaze from the opal and meet his eyes again.
"It… it's beautiful," the priestess breathed out. Without even considering the consequences of accepting such a gift from a rival house, and from a wizard no less, Arwydd swept her hair back and allowed Pryderi to fasten the clasp around her neck.
"I think House Evnissien will find their alliance with my family to be most worthwhile," the wizard said with a smile. He cast a meaningful glance to the pendant now resting on Arwydd's chest. "These are but the first of many gifts we bestow upon our allies."
"I… House Evnissien thanks you," Arwydd said, trying not to stumble over the words as she spoke them. Quickly the priestess recovered her stoic, faintly amused demeanor, cursing herself for a moment of such carelessness. Even now she absently fingered the chain around her neck, hoping that it was not some devious Gwalchgwynn trick that she had been stupid enough to fall into. Looking into Pryderi's eyes again gave no clue if the gift was genuine or a trap. Pryderi simply smiled as he returned her gaze, probably already priding himself on his capture of the priestess, be it malevolent or benign.
"As long as Caer Llion remains safely away from the battle," the wizard said, "House Gwalchgwynn will take care of its friends."
The street was silent as they entered it. No traces remained of the battle that had taken place the previous day, except for a few blood stains that were barely visible even to close examination. The houses on either side of the street where the Hen Wyneb caravan had fallen were silent and still, but Daere could feel the tense gazes of the inhabitants upon her as she stood in the middle of the street. Maddox stood directly behind her, likely scanning the ground for any trace of evidence that the raiders might have left behind, while beyond him, fourteen Hen Wyneb soldiers, twelve fighters and two priestesses, stood ready to carry out the noble daughter's orders. Daere considered the houses to either side of her for a long moment, then finally turned back to her subordinates.
"Bring them out," the priestess said quietly. Her soldiers sprang into action, moving up and down the street quickly, dragging out the drow that lived in the houses where the attack had taken place. In a matter of minutes over two dozen commoners had been brought before the priestess, kneeling in fear on the street while the Hen Wyneb soldiers stood behind them with drawn weapons. The priestess whispered a prayer to Lolth, asking for the ability to tell truth from lies, before walking along the line of commoners. Each one she fixed with an icy, disgusted stare, until she came to a stop in front of one particularly young, frightened boy. For a long moment she simply stood over him, anger simmering in her scarlet eyes as she regarded him for a long moment.
"There's no reason to be afraid, as long as you answer my questions," Daere said, lifting the young boy's chin and forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Anything, mistress," the boy said quickly. "Ask me anything."
"Yesterday, a caravan from my house was attacked and killed here," Daere said. "You were here yesterday, weren't you? When it happened?"
"Y-yes, mistress," the boy replied.
"Who were they?" Daere asked. The boy paused for a long moment, his eyes widening in terror.
"They… I don't know," the boy answered. "They wore only black cloaks. They wore nothing to identify them, I swear!"
Daere considered the boy for a moment. He was not lying; her spell told her that much. Slowly the priestess turned away from him, hearing a faint, almost inaudible sigh of relief from her first witness.
Daere spun back on her heel with blinding speed, drawing her snake headed whip and striking before the boy had even registered her sudden move. The four heads of her whip bit deep into his flesh, eliciting a quick scream of pain as his face was ripped apart by the fangs. The priestess continued to flog the boy until he had fallen to the ground, his pleas for mercy growing weaker until they finally faded into a last, wheezing gasp for breath. Daere continued to flay the boy's corpse until his skin hung from his body in bloody tatters and his face had been ripped into an unrecognizable mask of blood and bone. Panting for breath, with sweat and stray drops of blood on her face, the priestess turned back to the rest of the commoners, their eyes showing their rising fear at what might happen to them if they did not answer to the noble's liking. Daere took a moment to compose herself after her vicious beating, but did not replace her whip on her belt.
"I'm certain one of you was more attentive," she said, advancing along the line once again. The snakes of her whip writhed and snapped at the commoners closest to it as she walked. "I want to know who attacked the caravan. Someone saw who it was. Someone here knows something."
"You," Maddox said suddenly from behind the priestess. Daere turned as the wizard pointed to an old female. Two soldiers rushed quickly behind her and grabbed her arms, pulling her roughly to her feet as the priestess returned to the new witness. The commoner was nearly shaking as the two soldiers held her, her eyes darting between Daere and Maddox as the priestess stopped in front of her. "I think you know something. My sister would like to know what it is that you saw."
"I… I saw nothing!" the old woman answered quickly. Daere could feel the faint shift in her aura. "Nothing at all!"
"You're lying," Daere said. Maddox spun the old woman to face his sister. "You of all people should know better than to try to deceive a priestess of Lolth!"
"They… one had silver hair!" the old woman blurted out. "Another, his shadow fought alongside him! But they wore no piwafwi, and bore no house markings!"
"A noble, and a shadowdancer," Maddox concluded from the old woman's brief description. Daere looked to her brother.
"What house has a shadowdancer?" she asked. "They are not common, are they?"
"There are relatively few," Maddox said. "And fewer still in the employ of noble houses. But the only one I know of is in the employ of House Blodyn-tywell."
"The seventh house?" Daere said. "But they would have no reason to attack us!"
"That was it? One noble and a shadowdancer?" Maddox asked harshly, shaking the old woman. "You saw nothing else?"
"Nothing! Nothing, I swear!" the old woman promised. This time, she was telling the truth.
"Very well," Daere said. "Thank you."
The old woman dropped to her knees, relief flooding her features. Daere nodded to her brother. Maddox gestured to one of the Hen Wyneb soldiers.
"Execute her," the wizard said simply.
Drǎgǎşani was little more than a trader's camp, situated in a winding series of narrow tunnels only twenty feet or so above the ceiling of the cavern that housed Llyr. Few drow traveled to this place, for the trading camp was home to the troglodytes, a foul smelling, reptilian race that found little place other than as slaves in the minds of most drow. Still, Drǎgǎşani was of some use to the drow, as the lizards were more than willing to buy anything from the dark elves that were bold enough to enter the labyrinthine caves of their trading camp without asking any questions concerning the merchandise's origins.
It was in these dank passages that Bradwr had made one of his most unorthodox contacts. As the secondboy of House Hen Wyneb made his way through the passages, the troglodytes quickly moved out of his way, showing the noble respect even outside of Llyr's limits. The reptilians knew exactly why they still existed, and no troglodyte would attack a drow for fear of earning the wrath of the dark elves. Bradwr still kept one hand near the pommel of his sword as he made his way into one particularly dark tunnel; no troglodyte would attack him, but Bradwr was well aware of the fact that any drow working against his house would be more than willing to strike him down.
Bradwr rounded a corner and into a faintly lit cave, illuminated by elegantly wound iron torches sporting balls of dark blue faerie fire. Many troglodytes would shun even this dim light, but it was necessary for the business transactions between the drow and the troglodytes. Five troglodytes were currently standing in the center of the chamber, arguing vehemently with a pair of duergar. As Bradwr entered, the heated debate stopped instantly, and all eyes turned to the drow.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Bradwr inquired, injecting a hint of humor into his voice. Although the troglodyte language contained many sounds not easily reproduced by a drow tongue, Bradwr had spent a long time learning the dialect after all of his interactions with the lizards. It helped him not only know when he was being duped by the conniving merchants, but also to keep his own affairs secret from any other drow or duergar that may travel to Drǎgǎşani.
"Not at all," one of the troglodytes responded quickly, a toothy grin coming to his large mouth. The lizard broke away from his group to join the drow, just as the duergar renewed their argument. "What have you to sell me?" the troglodyte inquired. Bradwr was not tall, but the troglodyte stood just under five feet in height, wearing nothing but a leather belt from which a pair of kobold skulls and a large leather pouch hung. In darkvision or normal, the troglodyte's skin seemed to blend into the rock walls around him.
"I actually have come looking for something that may have been sold, Dumitriu," Bradwr explained, following the trader as he left the cave and the duergar argument behind. Bradwr cast a quick glance back into the tunnel.
"They are arguing over kobold slaves," Dumitriu informed the drow. "Perhaps your house would pay better for our recent prizes than those idiot miners."
"It is possible," Bradwr said. If there was to be an imminent attack on House Hen Wyneb, swelling the slave ranks with the cheap, expendable kobolds might not be such a bad idea. "But let us leave that for another time. I want to know if other drow have come here selling a shipment of food from my house."
"Drow come and go here often, these days," Dumitriu said. "And I am not the only merchant in all of Drǎgǎşani."
"But you do know what goes on in this place," Bradwr countered. "You are one of the most important troglodytes in this camp."
"Not much is needed to be important here," Dumitriu said. Bradwr inhaled deeply for a moment, stopping in the tunnel. Dumitriu turned back to him as he stopped.
"You know I can pay," the noble pointed out.
"I know," Dumitriu confirmed. For a moment the two stood in silence. Shaking his head in disgust, Bradwr removed a small purse from inside his piwafwi and tossed it to the troglodyte. Dumitriu caught it easily and quickly opened the drawstrings.
"Is that enough?" Bradwr asked. Dumitriu's smile returned.
"For what little good it will do you, yes," the trader replied. "Just yesterday your stolen shipment was brought here. It is already en route to Balasa."
"The shipment is of secondary concern," Bradwr said. Dumitriu nodded, expecting as much.
"They wore no insignia, nothing to identify them," the trader said. "If I had known to look for house affiliations, I would have been more attentive."
"Of course, of course," Bradwr grumbled. "You know nothing of these drow?"
"None of them seemed to be nobles," Dumitriu said. "None had silver hair or wore your style of cloak."
"I see," Bradwr said. He paused for a moment, considering his next line of questions. "Do you know anything of House Evnissien? The seventeenth house."
"Evnissien? No, I don't think I've heard anything about them," Dumitriu answered. "Why? Do you suspect them?"
"Very much so," Bradwr answered. "Keep your eyes open, and there will be more money for you. And, if possible, we may want both your slave kobolds, and any of your troglodyte fighters that you can spare in the near future."
"Ah, it is to be war, then," Dumitriu said, a grin coming to his reptilian face. The blatant remark stopped Bradwr in his tracks.
"Don't speak of this conversation," Bradwr warned sternly. Then he turned and started to make his way out of Drǎgǎşani.
It was no great surprise to Banon Hen Wyneb that Matron Vala of House Caer Llion was waiting for her as she reached the ornate gates of the second house of Llyr. By now there were many rumors in the streets of the noble districts and even the Central Market regarding the attack on Hen Wyneb's caravan. Those rumors concerned Banon as much as the attack itself, as they spoke of vague alliances and a possible move by House Brenin Llywd to safeguard themselves from Matron Ceridwen's machinations with a preemptive strike. In order for House Hen Wyneb to survive the whispered threats of war with an alliance of houses, Hen Wyneb desperately needed Caer Llion's help.
Banon paused a moment at the gate while the well armed and well trained guards of Caer Llion's majestic, spider web gates sent a summons into the virtual forest of onion bulb towers and delicate cottages that grew out of the groves of tall, thin mushrooms and faintly glowing mosses. A deep reflecting pool in the center of the enormous compound seemed to glow blue and green from the lights of the faerie fire towers and statues, creating a darkly magnificent home. The scale and architecture of Caer Llion was enough to make Hen Wyneb look drab and ordinary by comparison, once again fueling Banon's desire for power and influence. The daughter of Hen Wyneb was forced to put those musings aside, however, as a priestess of Lolth approached, clad in light chain mail and a black piwafwi marked with the ten pointed, midnight blue star of House Caer Llion.
"Matron Vala will see you now," the priestess said. Banon fell into step behind the priestess, feeling faintly uneasy as a half dozen soldiers formed up around her. Banon was led to the largest of the towers, just beyond the reflecting pool, and ushered in through the double doors of engraved steel at the base of the column. Inside, as Banon remembered, there was no staircase, but the noble easily levitated up the thirty feet to the main chapel of House Caer Llion.
Easily large enough to accommodate nine hundred dark elves, the chapel of Caer Llion was an architectural masterpiece. Twisting pillars of obsidian were adorned with grinning, demonic gargoyles at their tops, while the inky basalt floor had been embedded with long strands of silver, turning it into an enormous spider's web. The altar at the center of the chapel was a rearing spider, carved from a single block of marble, with eight amethyst eyes that fiercely glowed with violet faerie fire. The silver strands of the web itself seemed to glow faintly, providing ample light for all to see in the normal spectrum of colors. One the far end of the wall was a statue of Lolth herself, the six armed, beautiful drow female with ruby eyes and diamond studded, platinum blades in each hand. Banon could spare no time to admire the chapel as she had so often in the past, however, as she knelt just inside the door and waited for Matron Vala Caer Llion, seated in the plush throne of black velvet, silver, and sapphire, to greet her.
"Welcome back, Banon Hen Wyneb," Vala said, standing from her throne and gracefully gliding across the floor to meet her guest. Vala still moved with great dignity, but lines of age had begun to form on her once beautiful face, and time had taken its toll on the once fair drow matron's visible body. Vala's crimson eyes, however, still held a fierce glow of determination, a sign of her formidable power. "You have come to apologize for the loss of your caravan."
"I have," Banon confirmed. "And House Hen Wyneb will replace everything that was lost in the assault."
"I assumed as much," Matron Vala said, a faintly condescending note to her voice. "After all, a house should be able to secure its own trade routes."
Banon swallowed her pride at the remark, forcing herself to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"Have you heard the rumors regarding the assault?" the younger priestess inquired.
"Rumors of Brenin Llywd," Vala remarked in an offhand tone.
"That is what we believe," Banon said. "They are trying to weaken us. They rightly fear us. The time will come soon for Matron Eirian to be replaced by her betters."
"You are confident," Vala said, turning back to the altar. Banon followed a step behind as the matron mother made her way back to the spider. "And your house has aided us in the past. Hen Wyneb has been a most beneficial ally against House Siryddion."
"It is our honor to aid a house as mighty as Caer Llion," Banon said, "but it is now an alliance of houses that may stand against us. Although she did not desire to ask assistance of you in the past, now Matron Ceridwen is in need of your help."
"I know," Matron Vala said, turning back to Banon as she reached the altar. "And I have given your situation, and this raid, much thought."
"It is not much we ask," Banon said, praying that Vala would come around easily. "Money for mercenary contracts. Maybe a few soldiers, if you can spare them. And information especially, if you know who it is that plots against us."
"To hold Siryddion at bay, we must keep our alliance with you," Vala said. "But it goes beyond that. Whoever attacked your caravan did it as a message to me, as well as to weaken you. And I will not tolerate insults against the second house of Llyr from some upstart matron like Eirian. No, Banon, your family will not fall. House Caer Llion will not allow it."
"Thank you, Matron Vala," Banon said. Although she tried to remain emotionless, she could feel a flood of relief wash over her. Matron Vala had over seven hundred soldiers at her beck and call, and even a tiny fraction of Caer Llion's powerful army would give any house cause to hesitate in their movement against Hen Wyneb. Matron Vala took a pouch from the folds of her heavy robes, holding it out to Banon. Carefully the noble daughter took the pouch and glanced into it. Inside, several sapphires, sculpted into perfect octagons by the master gem cutters of Caer Llion, sparkled in the faerie fire lights.
"That will help you procure more mercenary contracts," the matron said. "In three days I will send twenty-five soldiers to your compound. They will wear their house emblem openly. Your enemies will have no doubt as to who aids Hen Wyneb."