VII
A summons such as this was rarely a good thing.
Arwydd made her way hastily through the gardens of House Evnissien, her mind far from the mushrooms and fountain as she desperately tried to think of anything she could have done that would have upset Matron Saffir. It had been barely an hour since she had left the house, on her way to the Central Market to purchase new soldiers with the money Pryderi had provided only a day earlier. The magical summons had almost bowled the diminutive priestess over at the northern end of the Central Market, such was the power of Matron Saffir's urgency, and Arwydd had nearly bolted back to her compound with the thought that perhaps Hen Wyneb had discovered their plotting and turned an attack against them. But with the immediate threat of an assault ruled out, the second daughter began to worry that Saffir's often brutal rage was turning on her.
As she passed the grotto on her way to the far tower, Arwydd's hand went to the opal pendant around her neck. Had her mother noticed Pryderi's gift to her? Even worse, had she detected something more than the minor dweomer of protection that Arwydd herself had discovered the previous night, when her suspicions of her ally's generosity had prompted her to cast a detect magic spell on the pendant? Belatedly the young priestess thought of removing the pendant, at least until her meeting with Matron Saffir was over, but as she reached the base of the rear tower, she found herself flanked by four guards as well as Rhonwen, Talaith's personal handmaiden. The burly commoner priestess was as devoted to Talaith and Matron Saffir as she was to Lolth, and a sudden decision by Arwydd to remove the pendant now would no doubt raise Rhonwen's suspicions.
"Thank Lolth you have arrived," Rhonwen said as Arwydd met her at the base of the pillar. "You are the last to arrive."
"Last to arrive?" Arwydd repeated. At the very least, she thought, the matron's anger was not directed at her alone. Fychan's continuous smirk and his desire to push the limits of his station would no doubt shield Arwydd from some of Matron Saffir's rage. "What is going on?"
"Let us go to the chapel," Rhonwen said, casting a glance at the commoner soldiers around them. Arwydd studied the handmaiden for a moment, but for once the smug smile Rhonwen often wore when dealing privately with Saffir's second daughter was conspicuously absent. Still, almost without waiting for the noble, Rhonwen began her ascent to the door set over their heads. That simple act returned some hint of Arwydd's jealous hatred of Rhonwen to the surface; Rhonwen was no noble, but Matron Saffir had given the commoner boots that could levitate her just as if she were one of the matron's own daughters. The boots were just one of many gifts that Arwydd's mother and sister lavished upon the devoted handmaiden, and Rhonwen had received everything from gold coins to Naomhin himself, for a brief time at any rate, to ensure her overzealous loyalty to Saffir and Talaith. Many times, it seemed to Arwydd that Rhonwen had become the second daughter of House Evnissien, and Arwydd had become the commoner priestess.
Arwydd pushed those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the problems at hand. The priestess levitated up after Rhonwen, and followed the commoner through the dark hallway to the chapel. Two guards, both priestesses, stood at the base of the spiral steps. Without a word from Arwydd or Rhonwen they stepped aside, allowing the pair up into the chapel.
The rest of the family was, as Rhonwen had stated, already inside the chapel. Matron Saffir presided from her throne, waiting impatiently for her last daughter to arrive. Talaith, dressed for battle in her chain mail, stood at the far edge of the altar, while Naomhin and Fychan both stood in front of the carved spider. Hetwn had taken his place just behind Saffir, and even Athruis, the silent, lethal weaponmaster of House Evnissien, had been summoned to the chapel.
"Arwydd, at last," Matron Saffir said, standing from her throne as her younger daughter appeared. "Have you heard anything at all from House Gwalchgwynn yet?"
"No," Arwydd answered, confused. "Why?"
"House Caer Llion is about to commit twenty-five soldiers, and possibly other resources, to Hen Wyneb's defense," Talaith answered, speaking before the matron could open her mouth. Arwydd kept her face emotionless, but the implications of the simple statement already had her mind spinning. If House Gwalchgwynn heard of Caer Llion's assistance, they would, by Pryderi's statements the previous day, back out of their alliance. And while Brenin Llywd still had made no indication of their intentions with the second house joining the fray, all of House Evnissien's nobility feared the worst. Their alliance with the other two houses was tenuous at best.
"What are we to do, then?" Arwydd asked. While she was justifiably concerned that her house would not be able to oust Hen Wyneb and raise their own rank, part of her mind was incomprehensively stuck on the fact that she may not see Pryderi for quite some time if their alliance was to fail. The younger daughter shoved those last thoughts from her mind quickly, but fortunately, if anyone had noticed her worries, they attributed it to the possibility of aborting the attack.
"We must do something to prove that we can still win, regardless of Hen Wyneb's alliance," Saffir said, pacing in front of her throne. "Something that will show our strength."
"Perhaps House Siryddion can aid us against Caer Llion," Naomhin suggested. Saffir shook her head. "After all, if we weaken Caer Llion, they benefit."
"They would prefer to allow Caer Llion to commit troops away from their house," the matron mother said. "And if twenty-five Caer Llion soldiers die defending Hen Wyneb, then they benefit anyway."
"Then we'll destroy twenty-five Caer Llion soldiers before they even reach the gates of Hen Wyneb," Athruis said quietly. All eyes turned to the short, stocky weaponmaster. Athruis' crimson eyes went from one drow to the next. "We know where Caer Llion is, and there are only a certain number of routes that they can take to reach Hen Wyneb. Destroy them. Send a message to Caer Llion that it will cost them dearly to maintain their alliance with the fifteenth house. They will back out soon enough."
Saffir remained silent for a long moment, considering the weaponmaster's plan.
"Twenty-five of Caer Llion's soldiers will be difficult to best," Fychan observed. "Especially if they opt to send wizards or priestesses."
"And they most likely will," Talaith added.
"They will send a strong force to avoid a conflict," Arwydd concluded. Naomhin nodded in agreement. "If that force never so much as reaches Hen Wyneb, their plan will backfire dreadfully."
"The problem lies in stopping them," Talaith said. "And if we reveal our identity during the battle, Hen Wyneb will know who is plotting against them."
"It's a risk we have to take," Naomhin decided. Talaith turned a furious glare on her brother, but Matron Saffir spoke first.
"Do it," their mother said. She turned to Athruis. "And you will aid him, Athruis. This strike must be swift, deadly, and most of all, anonymous. Make Caer Llion realize the price of their alliance with a doomed house."
"As you wish, mistress," Athruis said, bowing slightly to the matron. Naomhin added a bow of his own. The two males started quickly to the chapel stairs.
"Talaith, a priestess should oversee this assault," Matron Saffir said. Talaith nodded, although she seemed faintly nervous about taking on Caer Llion's soldiers. She and Rhonwen moved to follow the house's warriors. "And you, Fychan," Saffir added.
"As it pleases, mistress," Fychan said, bowing slightly. The wizard turned with a smirk on his face, more than willing to join the others. Arwydd watched her brother go for a long moment; Fychan's smirk was not pure eagerness to test his skills against any mages that might have been included in the second house's force.
"Arwydd," Matron Saffir said sternly. The younger daughter turned quickly, trying to keep any hint of nerves from her face.
"Yes, mistress," she said. She felt her hand start to move unconsciously to cover Pryderi's gift, and forced her arms back to her sides.
"You have grown quite close with the elderboy of Gwalchgwynn," the matron noted.
"Only to ensure his house's loyalty," Arwydd replied, keeping her tone even. Saffir's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze fixed firmly on the silver chain hanging around her neck.
"Good," the matron decided. "Ensure that he is implicated in our raid. Force Gwalchgwynn into our alliance."
"As it pleases, mistress," Arwydd said, using her brother's words in the hopes of echoing Fychan's smug attitude. In her mind, though, the priestess knew that the task would bring her no pleasure, except maybe to see Pryderi once more.
"She will not be pleased."
"There was nothing more to discover," Daere said, though she shared her brother's anxiety at facing Matron Ceridwen without any definite evidence as to their attackers. The old woman's description of a shadowdancer was barely enough to pin down a house; the elusive masters of the shadows, rare as they were throughout Llyr, could be found in the employ of any house that was willing to pay a steep price for their talents. The Shadow Guild could be found throughout the markets and merchant districts of Llyr, impossible to observe effectively both because of their shifting locations and the skills of their members. Daere sighed as she waited for the matron to admit them to the chapel. "Divination and scrying showed nothing. The witnesses knew nothing, or they would have talked."
"In the future, I think I shall try to gain more informants in that section of the city," Maddox said quietly, looking up at the faerie fire spiders that continuously scuttled across the engraved ceiling of the chapel's foyer. "It may cost some money, but we would do well to keep spies along our trade routes."
"An epiphany I wish you would have had weeks ago," Daere said, though her voice lacked its characteristic stern tone. Of all the members of her house, Daere felt she could trust Maddox, insofar as she could trust anyone; they had been born within a decade of each other and had always shared a sort of unspoken bond that they would help each other further their ambitions or guard against the other members of the house. Maddox simply nodded his agreement with the priestess' observation, and for the next minute the two of them stood in silence in the foyer. The doors in front of the pair finally opened, and the two nobles stepped into the chapel to make their report.
Matron Ceridwen stood behind the central altar, angrily watching Bradwr as the secondboy made his way quickly out of the chapel. Daere suppressed a shudder as she saw her younger brother rushing away; the matron had already been primed with bad news. Hopefully she would see how difficult it was to track a house that had taken no open actions against them yet.
"I hope the two of you bring better news than your incompetent brother," Ceridwen said angrily, turning on the pair as they entered. Daere hesitated for a long moment, glancing to Maddox as the wizard dropped his eyes to the ground.
"They… they were very well organized, mistress," Maddox began, thankfully taking the matron mother's ire away from Daere for the moment. "They bore no house insignia and left nothing behind, neither witnesses nor magical evidence. But I am certain that it was another noble house behind the attack."
"This is not useful information," Matron Ceridwen growled, rounding the altar. Her whip began to squirm on her belt, anticipating the taste of Maddox's flesh. "We already suspected a noble house."
"This raid was led by a drow with silver hair," Maddox added quickly. Ceridwen unhooked her whip, letting the snake heads stretch to full length for a strike. "And it also included a shadowdancer!"
The matron's hand stopped just before she lifted the whip.
"A shadowdancer?" she repeated. Maddox nodded quickly.
"Mistress, we need only find which house employs a shadowdancer to find our enemy," Daere put in, coming to her brother's aid. "Only House Blodyn-tywell employs one that we know of, and they would have no reason to strike against us! It will only be a matter of days before we find out which house has a shadowdancer!"
"You are certain?" Matron Ceridwen asked, turning to her second daughter.
"Positive," Daere replied. Matron Ceridwen nodded. Her whip reluctantly grew still as she replaced it on her belt.
"Then go," the matron ordered. "Find our enemy."
The money could not have come at a better time.
Hetwn glanced down to the pouch on his belt as he picked his way through the crowd of drow at the Merchant's Fortune, one of the largest, and completely enclosed, taverns in the Central Market of Llyr. The common room was large by any standard, able to hold at least a hundred patrons inside its stalagmite walls, and even spells to help muffle the noisy crowd could not silence the loud conversations of the packed common room. There were over two dozen tables set inside the tavern, but rarely could a table be found that did not already have an occupant. In fact, most times it was difficult to even find one's way through the crowd to the bar, and as Hetwn negotiated his way through the throngs, he realized that even for the Merchant's Fortune, he had hit a busy evening.
The patron of House Evnissien had never much cared for the Merchant's Fortune. Drow dealings should have been handled in quiet, out of the way places, not this tavern's raucous, crowded atmosphere. Young nobles came here to show off their riches or engage in anonymous trysts with artisans or even mere commoners. The same rooms that were used for these sensual meetings, however, were used for other dealings as well, and only the most foolish matron mother kept no spies in the Merchant's Fortune. Hetwn made his way through the mass of drow, carefully sliding past the gambling tables and around a particularly large entourage from one of the ruling houses, until he finally found his way to the bar. Behind the stone and mushroom counter, a single drow male, plain and growing old, did his best to keep up with the demands of his customers. As Hetwn reached the bar, the barkeep slid a pair of small glasses across the counter to his last customers and turned to the wizard.
"What do you want?" the barkeep inquired quickly.
"Wine, bloody," Hetwn said quietly. The barkeep nodded, and turned to the shelves behind him. When he returned to the counter, he simply dropped a key on the table. Hetwn picked up the key and started back through the crowd, making his way to e second floor and stopping at the first door in the narrow hallway above the common room. After only a slight hesitation, Hetwn put the key in the lock and carefully opened the door.
The rooms of the Merchant's Fortune were made simply for pleasure, not extended accommodations. A single bed, with a deep, soft mattress and silk sheets, was the only true luxury in the room. Other than the bed, a single stone table, barely large enough for two people, was set against the far wall, flanked by a pair of uncomfortable metal chairs. No light was present in the room, but Hetwn could easily see the four occupants with his darkvision. One was a petite female, shrouded in a loose silken dress as she lay on the bed idly tracing patterns on the sheets with one delicate finger. The other two drow were males, warriors or assassins by their light leather armor and the short swords and daggers they carried, sitting at the table and playing a game of cards. The final occupant of the room was not even drow; curled up on the floor next to the bed was an enormous, coal black hound, its glowing red eyes locking onto Hetwn as the wizard entered the room.
"Easy, Nye," the female said, casually leaning over the side of the bed and stroking the hell hound's head. A faint trace of fire appeared at the canine's mouth for an instant, but the hell hound reluctantly obeyed its mistress.
"It's a house patron, I assume," one of the males said, looking up from the table. The other nodded.
"Not of a ruling house, however," the other male observed.
"And one that will not wear his house piwafwi," the first one commented. "Is your pride of family that little?"
"This meeting called for some privacy," Hetwn said, measuring each of three drow as he spoke. He had dealt with this small band of assassins before; the two males, Arcol and Rhodri, were skilled fighters, while the female, Siana, had some talent with magic. "I would like to hire you again."
"Ah, a business proposition," Arcol said, standing from the table. Arcol was not big for a drow, but his wiry frame was deceptively strong. The oldest of the three, Arcol seemed to be the unspoken leader of the tiny mercenary group. "What is it you would have us do, Patron Hetwn?"
"Kill a noble daughter," Hetwn replied simply. Arcol's smile slipped faintly. "Unless, of course, you don't think yourselves capable of such a task…"
"We are," Rhodri put in quickly, before Arcol could say anything. Hetwn had assumed that questioning their skill would raise Rhodri's ire; the three were hardly famous in Llyr, and despite their bold claims to the contrary, were struggling to build a reputation as well as their company. Rhodri was the youngest, strongest, and quickest to anger of the three, but even as he spoke Rhodri's crimson eyes showed a faint note of anxiety. Few people brashly entered a contract to kill a noble of any house. "We just… expect to be paid in line with the level of the task," the mercenary continued, giving himself an out if the task should actually prove beyond their abilities.
"Which noble daughter would we have to kill?" Siana asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. Hetwn turned to the female.
"You know of the fifteenth house? Hen Wyneb?" Hetwn inquired. Arcol nodded. "Good. Their third daughter, Tarren, is buying up mercenary contracts in the Central Market. I want her removed."
"The third daughter," Arcol said, pondering the matter.
"Not even a high priestess yet," Hetwn added with a smirk. "Likely traveling with a small entourage as she buys contracts. Maybe a wizard, but I'm certain it's nothing beyond your talents."
Arcol glanced over to Siana for a long moment. If the two were communicating, it must have been in a way that Hetwn could not discern, but after a moment Arcol turned back to the patron.
"What is our compensation?" the warrior inquired. Hetwn pulled the pouch from his belt and held it out to the leader. Arcol took it hesitantly, carefully loosening the drawstrings. Siana stood from the bed and walked to his side, lighting a globe of soft white faerie fire in her hand to see the contents.
"I assume that will be enough?" the patron said. Arcol remained quiet as he looked into the pouch, but Siana could not hide a look of surprise. The platinum coins inside, a gift newly arrived from Brenin Llywd, jingled slightly as the mercenary leader turned the pouch over to Siana.
"I think that will suffice," Arcol said quietly. He paused for a long moment, studying Hetwn for any sort of treachery. "When do you want this done?"
"On the morrow," Hetwn replied.