The Dark Elf Trilogy | Page 3

other in front of his chest.
That pose was the only thing about this one that seemed normal to Dinin.
"Greetings, Faceless One" he signaled in the silent hand code of the drow, a
language as detailed as the spoken word. The quiver of Dinin's hands belied his
calm face, though, for the sight of this wizard put him as far on the edge of his
nerves as he had ever been.
"Secondboy Do'Urden" the wizard replied in the gestured
code. "Have you my payment?"
"You will be compensated" Dinin signaled pointedly, regaining his composure in
the first swelling bubbles of his temper. "Do you dare to doubt the promise of
Malice Do'Urden, Matron Mother of Daermon N'a'shezbaernon, Tenth House of
Menzoberranzan?"
The Faceless One slumped back, knowing he had erred.
"My apologies, Secondboy of House Do'Urden�� he answered, dropping to one
knee in a gesture of surrender. Since he had entered this conspiracy, the wizard
had feared that his impatience might cost him his life. He had been caught in the
violent throes of one of his own magical experiments, the tragedy melting away
all of his facial features and leaving behind a blank hot spot of white and green
goo. Matron Malice Do'Urden, reputedly as skilled as anyone in all the vast city in
mixing potions and salves, had offered him a sliver of hope that he could not
pass by.
No pity found its way into Dinin's callous heart, but House Do'Urden needed the
wizard. "You will get your salve�� Dinin promised calmly, "when Alton DeVir is
dead��
"Of course�� the wizard agreed. "This night?"
Dinin crossed his arms and considered the question. Matron Malice had
instructed him that Alton DeVir should die even as their families' battle
commenced. That scenario now seemed too clean, too easy, to Dinin. The
Faceless One did not miss the sparkle that suddenly brightened the scarlet glow
in the young Do'Urden's heat-sensing eyes.
"Wait for Narbondel's light to approach its zenith�� Dinin replied, his hands working
through the signals excitedly and his grimace seeming more of a twisted grin.
"Should the doomed boy know of his house's fate before he dies?" the wizard
asked, guessing the wicked intentions behind Dinin's instructions.
"As the killing blow falls�� answered Dinin. "Let Alton
DeVir die without hope��
Dinin retrieved his mount and sped off down the empty corridors, finding an
intersecting route that would take him in through a different entrance to the city
proper. He came in along the eastern end of the great cavern, Menzoberranzan's
produce section, where no drow families would see that he had been outside the
city limits and where only a few unremarkable stalagmite pillars rose up from the
flat stone. Dinin spurred his mount along the banks of Donigarten, the city's small
pond with its moss-covered island that housed a fair-sized herd of cattlelike
creatures called rothe. A hundred goblins and orcs looked up from their herding
and fishing duties to mark the drow soldier's swift passage.
Knowing their restrictions as slaves, they took care not to look Dinin in the eye.
Dinin would have paid them no heed anyway. He was too consumed by the
urgency of the moment. He kicked his lizard to even greater speeds when he
again was on the flat and curving avenues between the glowing drow castles. He
moved toward the south-central region of the city, toward
the grove of giant mushrooms that marked the section of the finest houses in
Menzoberranzan.
As he came around one blind turn, he nearly ran over a group of four wandering
bugbears. The giant hairy goblin things paused a moment to consider the drow,
then moved slowly but purposefully out of his way.
The bugbears recognized him as a member of House Do'Urden, Dinin knew. He
was a noble, a son of a high priestess, and his surname, Do'Urden, was the
name of his house. Of the twenty thousand dark elves in Menzoberranzan, only a
thousand or so were nobles, actually the chil.
dren of the sixty-seven recognized families of the city. The
rest were common soldiers.
Bugbears were not stupid creatures. They knew a noble from a commoner, and
though drow elves did not carry their family insignia in plain view, the pointed and
tailed cut of Dinin's stark white hair and the distinctive pattern of purple and red
lines in his black piwafwi told them well enough who he was.
The mission's urgency pressed upon Dinin, but he could not ignore the bugbears'
slight. How fast would they have scampered away if he had been a member of
House Baenre or one of the other seven ruling houses? he wondered.
"You will learn respect of House Do'Urden soon enough!" the dark elf whispered
under his breath, as he turned and charged his lizard at the group. The bugbears
broke into a run, turning down an alley strewn with stones and debris.
Dinin found his satisfaction by calling on the innate powers of his race. He
summoned a globe of darkness impervious to both infravision and normal sight in
the fleeing creatures' path. He supposed that it was unwise to call such attention
to himself, but a moment later, when he heard crashing and sputtered curses as
the