war of the spider queen 3 condemnation-第1章

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e。　That　came　most　insistently；　a　subtle　urging　growing　into　desperation。
　　　Eight　tiny　legs　answered　that　imploring　call。　Eight　tiny　weapons　struck　at　the　concave　wall。　Battering　and　tearing；　following　the　lighter　shade　of　gray　in　this　dark　place。
　　　A　hole　appeared　in　the　leathery　surface　and　the　eight　legs　coordinated　their　attacks　at　that　very　spot；　sensing　weakness。　Weakness　could　not　be　tolerated。　Weakness　had　to　be　exploited；　immediately　and　without　mercy。
　　　One　by　one；　ten　by　ten；　a　thousand　by　a　thousand；　a　million　by　a　million；　tiny　legs　waved　in　the　misty　space　between　universes　for　the　first　time；　tearing　free　of　their　circular　prisons。　Driven　by　hunger　and　ambition；　by　fear　and　an　instinctive　vileness；　the　millions　of　arachnids　fought　their　first　battle　against　a　pliable；　leathery　barrier。　Hardly　a　worthy　adversary；　but　they　fought　with　an　urgency　wrought　of　knowing　that　the　first　to　emerge　would　hold　a　great　advantage；　knowing　that　they…all　of　them…were　hungry。
　　　And　knowing　there　was　nothing　to　eat　but　each　other。
　　　The　warmth　of　the　egg　sac　was　gone；　devoured。　The　quiet　moments　of　solitude；　of　awakening；　of　first　sense　of　consciousness；　were　past。　The　walls　that　had　served　as　shelter　and　protection　became　an　impediment　and　nothing　more。　The　soft　shell　was　a　barricade　against　food；　against　necessary　battle；　against　satiation　on　so　many　levels。
　　　Against　power。
　　　And　that；　most　of　all；　could　not　be　tolerated　by　these　blessed　and　cursed　offspring。　So　they　fought　and　tore　and　scrabbled　and　scrambled　to　get　out。
　　　To　eat。
　　　To　climb。
　　　To　dominate。
　　　To　kill。
　　　To　bee。　。　。　。
　　　
　　　Streams　of　dust　and　sand　hissed　over　old　red　stone。　Halisstra　Melarn　drew　her　piwafwi　close　around　her；　and　shivered　in　the　bitter　wind。　The　night　was　cold；　colder　than　the　deeps　and　caverns　far　below　the　world's　surface；　and　the　wind　moaned　mournfully　through　the　weathered　ruins；　crouching　dead　and　silent　in　arid　hills。　Once　a　great　city　stood　there；　but　no　more。　Shattered　domes　and　tottering　colonnades　whispered　of　a　proud　and　skillful　race；　long　gone。　Vast　ramparts　still　stood　against　the　desert　wind；　and　the　broken　stumps　of　towers　reached　for　the　heavens。
　　　In　different　circumstances　Halisstra　might　have　spent　days　wandering　the　silent　ways　of　the　mighty　ruins　and　pondering　their　long…lost　tale；　but　at　the　moment　a　far　greater　and　more　terrifying　mystery　held　her　rapt　with　awe　and　horror。　Above　the　black　silhouettes　of　crumbling　towers　and　crooked　walls；　a　sea　of　stars　glittered　like　cold　hard　ice　in　a　black　and　limitless　sky。
　　　She'd　heard　of　such　things　all　her　life；　of　course。　Intellectually　she　understood　the　concept　of　an　open　sky　in　place　of　a　cavern　roof；　and　the　ludicrously　distant　pinpricks　of　light　overhead；　but　to　sit　out　in　the　open　beneath　such　a　sight　and　gaze　on　it　with　her　own　eyes　。　。　。　that　was　something　else　indeed。　In　her　two　hundred　years　she　had　never　ventured　more　than　a　few　dozen　miles　from　Ched　Nasad；　and　she　had　certainly　never　e　within　miles　of　the　surface。　Very　few　dark　elves　from　the　City　of　Shimmering　Webs　had。　Like　most　drow；　they　largely　ignored　the　world　outside　the　endless　intrigues；　scheming；　and　remorseless　self…interest　of　life　in　Ched　Nasad。
　　　She　stared　at　the　glittering　lights　above　and　bitterly　savored　the　irony。　The　pinprick　diamonds　and　the　vast　night　sky　were　real。　They　had　existed　for　some　unimaginably　long　time；　long　before　she　had　happened　to　look　up　in　that　forlorn；　freezing　desert　and　notice　them；　and　they　would　doubtless　continue　long　after　she　was　gone。　But　Ched　Nasad；　the　city　of　her　birth；　the　city　whose　rivalries　and　loyalties　and　fortunes　had　pletely　absorbed　all　of　her　intellectual　abilities　and　attention　for　her　entire　life；　was　no　more。　Not　a　day　ago　she　had　stood　on　the　high　balconies　of　House　Nasadra　and　stared　down　in　horror　at　burning　stone　and　falling　castles；　witness　to　her　city's　catastrophic　destruction。　Ched　Nasad；　with　its　wondrous　webs　of　stone　and　darkly　beautiful　fairy…castles　clinging　to　the　chasm　walls…Ched　Nasad；　with　its　awesome　arrogance　and　hubris；　its　darkly　beautiful　noble　houses　and　its　ceaseless　veneration　of　the　Spider　Queen　herself…Ched　Nasad；　the　center　of　Halisstra's　existence；　was　no　more。
　　　With　a　sigh；　Halisstra　tore　her　gaze　away　from　the　sky　overhead　and　stood。　She　was　tall　for　a　drow；　almost　five　and　a　half　feet　in　height；　and　slender　as　a　rapier。　While　her　features　lacked　the　alluring；　almost　rapacious　sensuality　many　highborn　drow　women　possessed；　she　was　beautiful　in　an　austere　and　measured　manner。　Even　after　hours　of　furious　fighting　and　desperate　struggle　to　escape　fire；　foe；　and　calamity；　Halisstra　moved　with　cold；　absentminded　gracefulness；　the　calm　self…possession　of　a　woman　born　to　be　a　queen。
　　　Sand　pelted　against　the　jet…black　steel　of　her　armor；　while　the　wind　caught　at　her　cloak　and　tried　to　tug　it　away　from　her。　Halisstra　knew　well　the　damp；　chill　motions　of　air　in　vast　spaces　under　the　earth；　but　the　desert　city　was　scoured　by　a　relentless；　stinging　blast　that　buffeted　her　from　a　different　direction　moment　to　moment。　She　put　the　wind；　the　stars；　and　the　ruins　out　of　her　mind；　and　silently　drifted　back　to　the　others。　They　huddled　in　the　lee　of　a　great　wall　in　a　small　court　studded　with　broken　pillars。　At　one　end　of　the　plaza　the　empty　remnants　of　a　lordly　palace　stood。　No　furnishings　had　survived　the　centuries　of　sand　and　weathering　that　had　scoured　the　city；　but　the　colonnades　and　courts；　high　chambers　and　proud　halls；　indicated　that　the　building　had　once　been　the　residence　of　a　family　of　some　power　in　the　city；　perhaps　even　the　rulers　or　lords　of　the　place。　Not　far　away　within　the　sand…blasted　walls　stood　a　blank　stone　portal；　an　archway　of　strange　black　stone；　that　housed　a　magical　gate　leading　back　to　Ched　Nasad。　Through　that　portal　Halisstra　and　the　others　had　made　their　escape　from　the　sack　of　the　drow　city。
　　　She　paused　and　studied　her　six　panions。　Danifae；　her　lady…in…waiting；　knelt　gracefully　at　one　side；　her　perfect　face　posed；　eyes　closed　serenely。　She　might　have　been　dozing　lightly；　or　simply　awaiting　the　next　turn　of　events　with　equanimity。　Fifteen　years　before；　Danifae；　a　captive　priestess　from　the　city　of　Eryndlyn；　had　been　gifted　to　Halisstra　as　a　maidservant。　Young；　beautiful；　and　clever；　Danifae　had　resigned　herself　to　bondage　with　surprising　grace。　She　had　no　choice；　really…a　silver　locket　over　Danifae's　heart　enslaved　the　girl　with　a　powerful　enchantment。　What　passed　behind　those　lustrous　eyes　and　perfect　features　not　even　Halisstra　could　guess；　but　Danifae　had　served　her　as　faithfully　and　as　petently　as　her　binding　demanded；　and　perhaps　even　more　than　that。　Halisstra　found　herself　forted　to　no　small　degree　by　the　simple　fact　that　Danifae　was　still　with　her。
　　　Her　remaining　five　panions　did　not　fort　her　in　the　least。　The　events　of　Ched　Nasad's　last　days　had　thrown　Halisstra　in　with　a　party　of　travelers　from　distant　Menzoberranzan；　a　city　that　had　in　the　course　of　time　been　Ched　Nasad's　enemy；　rival；　trading　partner；　and　master。　Quenthel　Baenre　sat　wrapped　in　her　own　thoughts；　her　cloak　pulled　close　against　the　chill。　A　sister　priestess　of　the　Spider　Queen；　Quenthel　was　a　scion　of　House　Baenre；　the　leading　clan　of　Menzoberranzan。　Of　course；　Quenthel　was　no　friend　of　Halisstra's　simply　because　they　both　served　as　priestesses　of　Lolth；　most　drow　noblewomen　served　the　Spider　Queen　and　spent　their　lives　feuding　for　station　and　preeminence　in　her　worship。　That　was　the　way　of　things　for　the　drow；　the　pattern　dictated　by　Lolth。　If　it　pleased　the　Spider　Queen　to　reward　those　who　proved　most　ruthless；　most　ambitious　in　her　service；　then　what　else　could　a　dark　elf　do？
　　　Quenthel　was　in　many　ways　the　epitome　of　drow　womanhood；　a　matriarch　in　the　making　who　bined　piety　in　Lolth's　service　with　physical　beauty；　strength　of　character；　and　absolute　ruthlessness。　Of　the　five　travelers　from　Menzoberranzan；　she　was　by　far　the　most　dangerous　to　Halisstra。　Halisstra；　too；　was　the　daughter　of　a　matron　mother　and　a　priestess　of　Lolth；　so　she　knew　well　that　she　would　have　to　watch　Quenthel　closely。　For　the　moment；　they　were　allies；　but　it　would　not　take　much　for　Quenthel　to　decide　that　Halisstra　was　more　useful　as　a　follower；　as　a　captive；　or　simply　dead。
　　　Quenthel　manded　the　loyalty　of　the　hulking　Jeggred；　a　draegloth　of　her　own　House　Baenre。　The　draegloth　was　half…demon；　half…drow；　the　son　of　Quenthel's　elder　sister　and　some　unnamed　denizen　of　the　Abyss。　Jeggred　towered　over　the　other　drow；　a　four…armed　creature　of　bestial　aspect　who　held　a　murderous　violence　in　check　at　all　times。　His　face　was　drow…like；　and　he　walked　upright；　but　a　gleaming　silver　pelt　covered　his　dark　skin　at　chest；　shoulders；　and　loins；　and　his　claws　were　as　long　and　as　sharp　as　daggers。　Halisstra　didn't　fear　Jeggred；　as　the　draegloth　was　Quenthel's　creature　and　would　not　lay　a　finger　on　her　without　his　mistress's　express　mand。　He　might　be　the　instrument　of　Halisstra's　death；　if　Quenthel　chose　to　order　it；　but　there　was　no　point　in　regarding　him　as　anything　other　than　Quenthel's　weapon。
　　　The　wizard　Pharaun　intrigued　Halisstra　greatly。　The　study　of　arcane　lore　was　something　that；　like　swordplay；　was　traditionally　left　to　males。　A　powerful　wizard　merited　a　certain　amount　of　respect　despite　the　fact　that　he　was　male。　In　fact；　Halisstra　knew　of　more　than　one　instance　in　which　the　matron　mother　of　an　important　house　ruled　only　with　the　consent　of　the　powerful　male　wizards　of　the　family；　a　situation　that　had　always　struck　her　as　perverse　and　dangerous。　Pharaun　acted　as　if　he　manded　that　kind　of　power　and　influence。　Oh；　he　deferred　to　Quenthel　quickly　enough；　but　never　without　a　sardonic　smile　or　an　insincere　remark；　and　at　times　his　disrespectful　carriage　verged　on　outright　rebellion。　That　meant　that　he　was　either　a　plete　fool…hardly　likely；　since　he'd　been　hand…picked　in　Menzoberranzan　for　the　dangerous　journey　to　Ched　Nasad…or　he　was　powerful　enough　to　hold　his　own　against　the　natural　tyranny　of　a　noble　female　like　Quenthel。　Pharaun　struck　Halisstra　as　a　potentially　critical　ally　against　Quenthel；　if　it　turned　out　that　she　and　Quenthel　could　not　reach　an　understanding。
　　　It　seemed　to　Halisstra　that　Ryld　Argith　was　to　Pharaun　what　Jeggred　was　to　Quenthel。　A　powerfully　built　weapons　master　whose　stature　matched　Halisstra's　own；　Ryld　was　a　fighter　of　tremendous　skill。　Halisstra　had　seen　that　for　herself　in　the　escape　from　Ched　Nasad。　Like　most　males；　he　maintained　a　properly　deferential　demeanor　in　Quenthel's　presence。　That　was　a　good　sign　to　Halisstra。　Ryld　might　easily　transfer　loyalties　to　another　woman　of　high　birth　in　a　pinch。　She　couldn't　count　on　Ryld　turning　against　either　Pharaun　or　Quenthel；　but　pure　drow　were　less　steadfast　in　their　loyalties　than　the　average　draegloth。　。　。　。
　　　The　last　and　the　least　of　the　party　from　Menzoberranzan　was　the　scout；　Valas　Hune。　A　small；　furtive　male；　he　said　little　and　observed　much。　Halisstra　had　seen　his　type　before。　Useful　enough　in　the　sort　of　tasks　they　excelled　at；　they　wanted　nothing　to　do　with　the　machinations　of　priestesses　and　matriarchs　and　did　all　they　could　to　stay　well　clear　of　the　politics　of　the　great　House