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Vartha Do'Urden had never been within the Baenre compound before and any fantasies that she might have held about rising to prominence within the city to challenge the top house fled in a heartbeat. The shear size of the compound alone dwarfed anything Vartha could have imagined, but beyond the size, each portion was decorated with intricate statues and thousands of magical lights.
It was unclear if the purpose for such a display was an effort to please the Spider Queen or to intimidate visitors such as herself. If Vartha was supposed to be intimidated, it worked very well. Despite her discomfort, everyone within the house treated her with respect and honor. It seemed that all had been told of her visit, and each drow she passed bowed deeply and averted their eyes.
Two powerful drow males had met her at the gate of the house, and they escorted her through the compound. It seemed to Vartha that they were taking a round about trip to get to where they were going, but again, she assumed it was just to show off the size and splendor of their house.
They finally arrived at the Baenre chapel, and Vartha realized that the process of intimidating her had only just begun. The chapel was the most prominent structure within the compound, even more so than the dormitories that housed the thousand common soldiers.
The male escorts were not allowed within the chapel, and merely pointed toward the main entrance. Vartha understood and entered through the vaunted double doors. Matron Baenre waited within the chapel, sitting just in front of the central altar. The holographic image of a drow female morphing into a spider and back again dominated the area under the huge dome, but it by no means was the only extravagant decoration within the chapel. Baenre looked small and weak amidst the glory of her chapel, but Vartha was quick to remember that this glory and splendor came from the withered matron and only reflected her power, doing nothing to diminish it.
"I hope my escorts treated you with respect and showed you here in a prompt fashion," Baenre said as a greeting.
Vartha nodded.
"If they displeased you in any way-"
"They performed well, and I was impressed with them," Vartha said quickly.
"Do you want them?" Baenre asked. "I can have them escort you home and remain within your house."
Vartha did not know how to handle this. She was the matron mother of the thirteenth house. She had no right to be speaking with Matron Baenre as if they were equals, and she definitely had no right to be lavished upon with all the courtesy and honor that the first house insisted on giving her. Vartha shook off that discomfort. Even if she was not supposed to be here, she was, and she would not ruin the experience by feeling inadequate.
"That would be a welcomed gesture," Vartha replied.
Baenre hesitated slightly, not having expected Vartha to accept the offer. "Very well," she replied. "They will serve you well."
"I'm sure they will," Vartha agreed, enjoying the fact that she had been able to cause Baenre some discomfort. "I am quite interested to discover why I have been invited to your glorious house. Surely Lloth has blest you."
"The Spider Queen has been kind to us, but it has not come without sacrifice. It has also not come without responsibility. It is one of those responsibilities that has caused me to request your presence." Baenre motioned toward a chair next to her own, and Vartha took it.
"How much do you know about the houses that have representation on the council?" Baenre asked.
"I know only the houses and their rank," Vartha replied honestly. "Though you might not believe it, there is quite a bit of intrigue among houses even at my level, and I am forced to be wary of those around me with little time left to study the ranked houses."
Baenre smiled. "Perhaps the time for you to worry about the houses around you will soon be over." Baenre enjoyed the look she got from her guest and continued. "The fourth house is House Del'Axle. They are a weak house and do not deserve the ranking of fourth. Their presence within the council has kept more deserving houses and matron mothers from their proper place within this city.
"Our culture demands that the strong triumph over the weak. It is the only way we can survive as a people against all the other races that would strive to destroy us. We need to encourage strength by rewarding it, and eliminate weakness by punishing it."
Vartha listened closely, very interested as to where this was going. She had been told that she was not going to have to worry about the houses around her, implying that whatever Baenre had planned, it would strengthen her house. She also realized the veiled threat that went along with that promise: weakness was punished.
"Lloth has let me know that it is my responsibility as this city's chief matron mother to ensure that the spots on the council are held by the most powerful matrons in the city, representing the most powerful houses in the city. House Del'Axle does not meet these criteria.
"Matron Reinela Del'Axle and her six daughters are powerful by themselves, but they have squandered that power and have allowed the rest of their house to crumble around them. They must be removed."
"Is this not a job for the council to take on?" Vartha asked.
"Perhaps," Baenre agreed, "but I do not see it that way. Houses DeVir, Faen Tlabbar, and Hun'ett have all been plotting against house Del'Axle, and they all have the means to destroy them, but their time has passed. They should have taken action decades ago, but they have not. Now they no longer deserve the honor of removing the fourth house."
Vartha was not an idiot. "You would have me lead an attack against house Del'Axle? Surely you understand that while I do have a powerful house for my rank, I can not challenge the fourth house and expect to win."
"I have not brought this charge to you without offering my own aid. I know that you do not have many daughters. House Del'Axle's strength lie within their high priestesses. While you could easily dispatch their common soldiers, you will not be able to destroy their priestesses. With that my house will offer you aid. Though the Del'Axle priestesses are powerful, my own are even more so, and I have them in much greater number."
"Why not just attack the fourth house yourself?" Vartha asked. "You could handle them easily."
"It is true, but what would the rest of the city think? We could destroy any house within the city. Having such power is a great burden. If the other houses thought that we are willing to use that power against them, they would unite against us and throw the entire city into civil war. We can not be the instigators in this attack."
"But there has to be another house more capable than us?" Vartha pleaded. She enjoyed the compliments she was receiving, but she also knew her house was growing in strength and numbers right now. Having to prepare for battle and taking losses during that battle would greatly weaken her position.
"Like I said," Baenre repeated, "the other ranked houses have had their opportunity and have let it slip by. They no longer deserve the honor. I have asked Lloth for guidance, and she has pointed me toward your house." Baenre wondered what her goddess would think of her comparing receiving information from Dantrag with getting it directly from Lloth. Such a statement, if it had been made with conviction, would be enough to put her outside of the Spider Queen's favor.
"But House Del'Axle is still in Lloth's favor, are they not?" Vartha continued, trying to find an out. "To attack them would be to anger the Spider Queen."
"Both of our houses will be attacking the fourth house. House Baenre will be responsible in the eyes of Lloth. We have brought the duty of destroying the house on ourselves and we will accept the judgement from the Spider Queen for our actions. Our involvement can not be made known to the rest of the city, for reasons I have already explained. You will be responsible for eliminating the fourth in the eyes of the city."
Baenre paused to let this sink in. "This means that you will receive all of the prestige that goes along with that, such as absorbing any surviving members of the house into your own." Baenre paused again. "This includes any surviving priestesses."
Baenre smiled as she saw the light go on in Vartha's eyes. Dantrag was clever indeed. Vartha's initial reaction was that of excitement, but she quickly tempered it. The way Baenre laid it out, it really did look like a walk in the park. She knew all about House Del'Axle's fighting ability and her own soldiers would take them out easily. If House Baenre carried out their claim to counter the priestesses within the house, it would be an easy victory. If Baenre's involvement was made known to House Del'Axle early on in the battle, they might surrender quickly, leaving hundreds of drow to be absorbed by House Do'Urden.
As good as this all seemed, Vartha's wisdom would not let her look at this blindly. There had to be a catch. There has to be some reason Baenre was involving House Do'Urden. There were dozens of ways to destroy a drow house if you were as strong as House Baenre. Matron Baenre had indeed been presented with those ways already, but she had refused them.
Even if there was a catch, even if this was not as sweet as it seamed, what could Vartha do about it? She had just been charged by Matron Baenre to do her bidding. How could she refuse?
"Very well," Vartha said quietly. "House Do'Urden will do its part."
Baenre smiled broadly. "Lloth will smile upon you. Go now and prepare your house for a fight. The battle will take place within the week. My two escorts will follow you home as promised, and I hope they bolster your forces."
***
"I don't like it."
"And what would you like?" Vartha bit back, looking at her daughter sternly. The only daughter softened considerably. "Perhaps you would have liked to have been right. Perhaps you would have preferred Matron Baenre to say that since Zaknafein had dishonored her son, the first house in the city felt obligated to wipe us out."
Zaknafein was present in the room, though he did not quite understand why, and stiffened at the mention of his name. He sincerely hoped this meeting was not about him. He looked over at Stiu Alnan, house Do'Urden's weapon master, for advice, and his former teacher just shook his head and returned his eyes forward.
"Still," Malice continued at a much reduced tone of voice, "it is not good for our house. We are being used as a pawn in a feud between the greater houses."
Vartha conceded this and nodded. She had just relayed her conversation with Matron Baenre to her daughter and the two males present. She had asked that Stiu Alnan be in attendance because any fighting their soldiers were going to have to do would be organized by the house's weapon master. Zaknafein was there because he would soon become the weapon master and Vartha wanted him to learn. She also held a tiny suspicion that he might have played a role in their house being chosen by Matron Baenre.
"It is the fact that Matron Baenre wants her house to be responsible for the attack in Lloth's eyes that has me worried," Malice said. "This implies that there is some feud between the two house that involves Lloth. The fact that they will not bring it in front of the council implies that it is not legitimate."
"Legitimate or not," Vartha cut in, "it is going to send our house to war, and I want to know what it is."
"Maybe it is not between Del'Axle and Baenre," Zaknafein spoke up, surprising everyone in the room. He gathered three curious glances and continued. "What if the real fight is between Del'Axle and us. Baenre has been brought in by Del'Axle to lull us into a false sense of security. We go to war with Baenre at our side, and then at the critical moment, Baenre steps aside and we are eliminated."
"Do you know something?" Malice asked.
Zaknafein shook his head. "I merely present it as a possibility."
"If House Del'Axle has a problem with us, why not attack us directly?" Malice continued.
"The same reason House Baenre can not attack House Del'Axle. The ranked houses can't just start eliminating the lesser houses or there would be chaos."
"Just the way Lloth likes it," Vartha muttered under her breath. Everyone looked to her and she continued. "Or maybe House Del'Axle has a feud with us AND House Baenre has one with House Del'Axle. Baenre steps aside and lets us die, and then they step back in and eliminate Del'Axle."
"Is there any scenario in which we do not get burned?" Malice asked.
"If Matron Baenre is telling the truth, we shall not only not get burned, but we shall come out of this mess as perhaps the third or fourth strongest house in the city."
"What is the likelihood that Matron Baenre is telling the truth?" Malice asked.
"The entire truth? Not very likely," Vartha admitted. "But there is some truth to what she said."
"Such as?" Malice pressed.
"Such as the fact that House Baenre can not dispose of houses at will and does need a lesser house to front them. Such as whoever defeats House Del'Axle will have the right to claim all of their surviving members and grow significantly stronger. Such as we will be waging war against House Del'Axle within a week regardless of whether we figure out what Baenre's true motives are."
Malice nodded her head and finally accepted the facts of the matter. "That does not mean we have to enter the battle unprepared," Vartha continued. "We should spend the remaining time before the battle trying to figure out as much as possible about our enemies."
She turned to look at Stiu Alnan. "You need to prepare our soldiers for a fight. I want you to keep a short leash on them. None of them are to leave this compound. If someone in our house is responsible for tipping off House Del'Axle as to the coming attack, they will have to face me before they face Matron Baenre. Trust me, there will not be much left of them by the time they make it to the first matron mother."
***
Despite Vartha's command that no one should leave the Do'Urden compound, Zak was outside of his house that very night.
"We should not be meeting like this," Jarl signed quickly as he saw Zak approach.
"How would you prefer us to meet?" Zak replied. "Perhaps we should be talking beneath the fading light of Narbondel."
"I mean we should not be meeting at all," Jarl bit back. He was tired of his friend's cynical and sarcastic remarks, but he only had himself to blame.
Zak had been a naïve drow with no sense of intrigue or trickery before he met Jarl. Now, Zak looked the typical drow warrior and as strong and formidable as any in the city. Though Jarl liked to think of himself as Zak's tutor of sorts, he knew that his friend's strength lay mainly in his skill with his weapons. That was something that not only could Jarl not claim any responsibility for, but he hoped he would never have to face.
"I grow tired of this life," Zak started. They had planned this meeting while they had been returning from the surface raid. They both realized that they would have little chance to socialize and would miss the conversations they used to have.
Common drow were free to roam the city and there were several taverns and gaming facilities set up for their enjoyment, but these were mostly frequented by the lesser houses, and no noble would dare enter such a dangerous and unguarded environment.
"Am I to be your suicide note," Jarl responded. "Before you contemplate ending your existence, please consider that you are only three decades old. You have twenty times as much life left in you."
"That is what troubles me." Zak slumped into a sitting position. They were meeting in a tiny cave located just inside of the city's perimeter. Zak knew that his house was going to war against Jarl's within a few days and that this would be the last time they would ever talk to each other as friends. If he had something to say, it had to be now.
"The Academy was bad, but it was easy enough to shut out the lies. Now those lies are reality, and I am forced to live them. The only way to shut them out is to end my life."
"And what traumatic event has drove you to this decision?" Jarl pressed, thinking Zak must have just inherited some new responsibility.
Zak just about told him of the coming raid, but he held it in check. As much as he wished to warn Jarl, he knew that if House Del'Axle knew about the coming attack, his own house might not survive. Instead he toyed with the idea that Jarl might survive and be absorbed by his house. How powerful would house Do'Urden be then!
"Does it need to be something specific?" Zak responded. "Isn't it enough that I have to live with the memory of what happened in the wood elves' grove? Isn't it enough that I have to put my blades to use defending what I despise most? Isn't it enough that I have to share a bed with the high priestess that murdered my mother?"
Jarl had seen Malice before, and wondered if that was really such a curse. He still did not understand Zak's feelings for his lost mother and would look at such a situation pragmatically. If he had to sleep with someone, Malice would be his short list.
"What happened to the drow I knew in the Academy?" Jarl asked. "What happened to the drow who refused to accept the life that had been given to him and would fight against everything he hated? What happened to the drow that refused to compromise his beliefs even in the face of overwhelming odds?"
"Why do you mock me?" Zak asked.
"Do I?" Jarl countered. "I am proposing valid questions. In the Academy, you were a crusader. Now you have traded your belief system for comfort."
"You are the one who said we needed to survive above all else!"
Jarl smiled. "I said we needed to survive. Is what you are doing surviving? According to your assessment of your life, I think you are not. How do you define survival? Is it enough that your heart beats in your chest? Is it enough that you draw breath? Or is it something more?"
Zak wanted to strike back with his weapons, but as usual, Jarl was correct. Zak looked out over the city, most of which was visible from their vantage point. His eyes lingered on the Baenre compound. "I can not fight them all."
"Are you frightened of Dantrag?" Jarl asked, seeing where his friend's gaze was pointed.
Zak turned on Jarl suddenly, the desire to cut out the drow's tongue barely restrained. "Never that one!"
"You lie," Jarl said so calmly it stole all of Zak's bluster. "Are you scared of meeting Dantrag in battle? No. I've seen you two fight. You have no reason to be scared of that one. But that is not what I meant, and you know it. You are scared that you might become like him."
Zak looked suddenly sheepish. Jarl continued. "Aside from ourselves, there is no drow male in the city that does not envy Dantrag's position. Even Uthegental secretly dreams that he could be the weapon master of the first house. You have the ability to surpass Dantrag. To do so, you must become like him. Unless you are careful, you shall do exactly that."
Zak wanted to reply. He wanted to counter what was being said. But he had no counter for the truth. "If you define survival as simply living." Jarl went on, "then continue as you are. In time your name will grow in fame and prominence and every young male will look toward you as the model drow warrior. But if you think that survival is more inclusive than that, then have no fear. You will never become what you despise."
"From what great fount do you speak?" Zak asked. "From what ledge do you preach? How has your life been so similar to mine that you can relate to what I am going through? You are a noble. You are the most prized possession of your house."
"Am I?" Jarl bit back, not thinking before he laid out his life for Zak to see. "Does my mother value my life? I think not. I was given as a sacrifice to Lloth when I was born. I was condemned to be spider food for no more reason than I was a male. Though still unfair, your mother was given to Lloth for reasons that at least made sense. So don't tell me that I can not relate to you, my friend. I know better than anyone does the place of males in our society. I know what our glorious Spider Queen requires. Yet I have survived."
"Matron Reinela sacrificed you at birth?" Zak was confused.
Jarl just laughed. "You have no idea, do you? Matron Reinela is not my mother. Do I fight like any other Del'Axle you have ever seen? Matron Baenre herself gave birth to me. My own sisters carried me to the altar and gave me to the Spider Queen. My two new brothers rescued me, and one was killed for the deed. I am living proof of the lies and deceit in which we must exist. Dantrag is my brother, and I strive to be as opposite of him as I possibly can."
Zak was in shock. Jarl enjoyed the look on his face. "So now you know."
Jarl was right; now Zak knew. He knew why Baenre was so anxious to destroy House Del'Axle. It was a good thing that what Jarl had told him was so amazing by itself or Jarl might grow suspicious of his friend.
Zak was finally able to get himself under control. "Then we will have to survive together," Zak said after a few moments of silence.
"It is the only way."
The two had said enough for now. They exchanged parting words and left to return to their own houses. Zak wondered if he should tell his matron mother of this dramatic revelation, but he decided to keep this morsel to himself. He did not want to embrace any aspect of drow life, but secrecy and trickery were two that he would allow himself.
***
Triel and Dantrag sat around a small table in a private room within the Baenre compound. At least Triel was seated. There was only one chair in the room. Triel had the others removed before Dantrag entered. They were going over the battle plans, and Dantrag did not like it.
With or without Khazid'hea prodding him, he wanted to fight Zaknafein on even ground. Beyond this upcoming battle, Dantrag did not see too many opportunities to accomplish this. This was the perfect opportunity to get his chance, but the way Triel was outlining the fight, Dantrag and his soldiers would not take part in the battle unless it was absolutely necessary. With what he knew about the strength of the Do'Urden fighters, he did not think it would be.
"We need to apply more pressure right at the beginning," Dantrag said. "Their fighters are not powerful, but if they are not wiped out in the opening moments, their priestesses can bolster their defenses. If that happens, the battle will take much longer than what we are planning for, increasing the risk something might go wrong."
"Your fears are misplaced, brother," Triel responded. "We will handle the Del'Axle priestesses, and they will not influence the fight."
"Are you sure?" Dantrag dared to question. "Matron Baenre speaks highly of the Del'Axle females." Triel looked ready to strike him but Dantrag eased her fury. "I have no doubt that you will overwhelm them, but I am concerned with ending this fight as quickly as possible. To do that we need to strike hard and fast with all our available strength. We should not take our foes for granted even if victory is assured."
"Why are you questioning my authority?" she asked, detecting something else behind her brother's words.
"I am not questioning your authority," Dantrag replied. "Our Matron Mother placed me in charge of the battle, and I am just tell-"
"Correction," Triel interrupted. "You are in charge of the soldiers. I am in charge of the battle. Our fighters will stay back as long as possible. Matron Baenre does not wish to lose any fighters in this battle. It will look bad if Baenre soldiers are left strewn across the ground after the fight is over. I don't think we would be able to keep our involvement secret then, do you?"
"But-"
"No! That's final." Triel looked curiously at her fuming brother from across the table. "I am in charge of this battle, and my word is final. Unless, of course, you wish to challenge me for command."
Dantrag blanched at this. Khazid'hea was begging for its wielder to take up the offer, but the weapon master quelled the desire. Triel egged him on. "You know you can strike me down right now. I am defenseless before you. There is but six feet between us. Surely I would never be able to get a spell off before you could drive your new-found weapon into my heart."
Dantrag knew she was right. There was no way she could get a spell off, was there? It would take him one second, maybe. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Then reality hit him. He could not kill her. What would happen to him? His mother would roast him alive. He could not even try to attack her without forfeiting his life. Instead he just stood there, fuming.
Triel laughed. This was the true power of Lloth. She knew her spell capabilities and knew that if Dantrag attacked her right now, there would be nothing she could do about it. If he was but six feet further away, she would be able to hit him with a barrage of paralyzing spells and then pummel him with her whip, but at this distance, she was dead. She knew that, but she also knew Dantrag could not attack her. He had been beaten down all his life and knew he was not worthy to raise a weapon against a high priestess of Lloth. He might be the greatest male fighter in the city, but he was not worthy enough to even challenge a female.
With Dantrag sufficiently humbled, the battle plans continued. Dantrag often suggested options, and Triel did the exact opposite no matter how sound the advice. She knew House Del'Axle would fall regardless of what strategy they used. Dantrag swallowed his pride and just waited for the day when he would be able to get revenge.
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