war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第38章

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nation。
Triel　had　decided　Faeryl　was　less　diplomat　than　spy；　an　agent　for　some　power　inimical　to　Menzoberranzan；　who'd　concocted　this　business　of　missnoting　traders　to　provide　herself　with　a　good　excuse　to　leave　the　city　and　report　to　her　superiors。
Matron　Baenre　couldn't　allow　it；　couldn't　permit　a　spy　to　pass　along　the　tale　of　Menzoberranzan's　newfound　weakness。　She　didn't　dare；　because　it　was　entirely　possible　that　not　all　dark　elf　enclaves　had　suffered　the　same　calamity；　and　even　if　they　had；　perhaps　the　dwarves；　duergar；　deep　gnomes；　and　illithids　had　not。
What　remained　unclear　was　why　Triel　believed　as　she　did。　Who　had　put　the　idea　in　her　head；　and　what　did　that　person　have　to　gain　by　holding　Faeryl　in　the　city？
Jaw　tight；　the　emissary　stifled　the　impulse　to　confront　Triel　about　the　latter's　true　concerns。　She　knew　she　wouldn't　be　able　to　draw　the　Baenre　into　an　genuine　consideration　of　the　allegations　against　her。　Taking　a　manotlicious　pleasure　in　the　play…acting；　Triel　would　simply　feign　shock　that　Faeryl　doubted　her　trust　and　good　will。
Indeed；　if　Faeryl　wanted　to　avoid　further　humiliation；　all　she　could　do　was　go　along　with　the　pretense。
She　smiled　and　said；　〃As　I　said　before；　Matron　Mother；　your　concern　honors　me；　and　I　will　of　course　obey　you。　I'll　remain　in　the　City　of　Spinotders　and　savor　its　many　delights。〃
〃Good；〃　said　Triel；　and　Faeryl　imagined　the　words　that　remained　unnotspoken：　We'll　know　where　to　find　you　when　it's　time　for　your　arrest。
〃May　I　have　your　permission　to　withdraw？　I　see　there　are　many　others　seeking　the　benefit　of　your　wisdom。〃
〃Go；　with　my　blessing。〃
Faeryl　offered　her　obeisance；　exited　the　hall；　and　walked　through　the　great　mound　that　was　the　Baenre　citadel　until　she　found　herself　alone　and　unobserved　in　a　short　connecting　passageway。　She　took　the　rolled　maps　of　the　Underdark；　the　charts　she　had　imagined　that　she　and　Triel　might　connotsult　together；　from　beneath　her　arm。　Teeth　bared　in　a　snarl；　she　smashed　them　repeatedly　against　the　wall　until　the　stiff　parchment　cylinder　flopped　limp　and　battered　in　her　hands。





Gromph　and　Quenthel　strolled　about　the　plateau　watching　the　apprennottices　and　masters　of　Sorcere　perform　the　rituals。　The　sound　of　chanting　and　the　pungent　scent　of　incense　filled　the　air；　along　with　various　conjured　phenomena：　flashes　of　light；　dancing　shadows；　demonic　faces　appearing　and　disappearing；　moaning　and　crackling。　All　to　lay　a　new　set　of　wards　about　Tier　Breche。
Gromph　was　mildly　impressed。　By　and　large；　his　minions　were　doing　a　good　job　of　it；　though　they　weren't　laying　any　enchantments　he　couldn't　pierce。　In　fact；　since　he　was　supervising　them　at　their　labors；　getting　past　the　wards　would　be　easy。
〃I　wonder　if　all　this　will　actually　protect　us；〃　said　Quenthel；　scowling；　her　long　skirt　rippling　in　the　stray　breeze　kicked　up　by　someone's　incantation。
Gromph　was　surprised　that　even　after　Beradax's　attack；　she　hadn't　donned　a　suit　of　mail。　Perhaps　she　thought　her　frightened　novices　and　priestesses　required　a　show　of　confidence。
〃It　didn't　protect　us　before；〃　hissed　one　of　the　annoyingly　vocal　snakes　prising　the　whip　on　her　belt。
Four　of　them　were　twisting　this　way　and　that；　watching　for　danger。　The　fifth　kept　its　cold　eyes　staring　at　Gromph；　not；　the　Archmage　was　convinced；　because　his　sister　suspected　him　of　trying　to　murder　her。　Or　rather　she　did；　but　not　specifically。　She　simply　had　too　many　viable　suspects。　There　were　subordinates　who　aspired　to　be　Mistress　of　Arach…Tinilith；　and　the　myriad　foes　of　House　Baenre。　Perhaps　it　was　even　Triel　seeking　to　forestall　the　all　but　inevitable　day　when　Quenthel　would　challenge　her　for　preeminence。
〃Enchantments　can　attenuate　with　time；〃　said　Gromph；　honestly　enough。
〃The　new　ones　will　be　stronger。　Strong　enough；　I　trust；　to　keep　you　safe　in　Arach…Tinilith。〃
〃It　isn't　just　the　temple　at　risk；〃　Quenthel　snapped。　〃Next　time；　a　demon　could　attack　Sorcere　or　Melee…Magthere。〃
Don't　count　on　it；　Gromph　thought；　but　he　said；　〃I　understand。〃
〃I've　seen　enough　for　now；〃　said　the　mistress；　her　scowl　deepening。　〃Don't　let　your　males　slack　off。　I　want　the　d