war of the spider queen 3 condemnation-第35章

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ed；　leaving　only　an　endless　green　hall　of　round　trunks　rising　to　the　forest　roof　above；　like　the　pillars　of　some　dark　elven　hall　somewhere　in　the　Lands　Below。　Old；　fallen　logs　lay　scattered　here　and　there；　covered　in　bright　green　moss。　Some　were　so　large　that　the　pany　had　to　detour　hundreds　of　feet　around　them；　or　scramble　awkwardly　over　or　under。　A　dusting　of　snow　had　filtered　to　the　ground；　and　cold　water　dripped　steadily　from　the　branches　above。　Unlike　the　lifeless　desolation　of　Anauroch；　the　forest　was　filled　not　only　with　mighty　trees　and　twining　brambles；　but　all　manner　of　small　birds　and　animals。　After　a　dozen　heart…stopping　starts；　Halisstra　soon　learned　to　identify　a　number　of　discrete　birdcalls　and　animal　sounds　and　relegate　them　to　the　realm　of　the　insignificant。
　　　She　had　at　first　feared　that　she　would　easily　lose　sight　of　the　pany　ahead；　but　away　from　the　crowded　foliage　by　the　infrequent　clearings；　the　underbrush　consisted　of　ferns　and　other　green　plants　rarely　more　than　waist　high。　As　darkness　fell　over　the　forest　floor；　her　vision　improved；　and　Halisstra　felt　more　and　more　fortable。
　　　The　drow　marched　on　through　the　night；　halting　a　little　before　daybreak　to　set　up　camp　in　an　old　ruined　tower　whose　broken　white　stones　were　covered　by　moss。　Smooth　and　delicately　veined；　the　place　showed　remarkable　elegance　of　form；　and　the　lintel　of　its　long…vanished　door　was　carved　in　a　flowering　vine　design…clearly　the　work　of　surface　elves。　After　Pharaun　checked　the　place　for　lingering　spells　that　could　be　dangerous　to　drow；　the　pany　made　camp　to　pass　the　painful　bright　hours　of　the　day。　Quenthel　ordered　Jeggred　and　Pharaun　to　keep　watch；　and　the　others　enjoyed　the　shade　and　safety　provided　by　the　partial　floors　and　graceful　walls　of　the　ruined　tower。
　　　At　sundown　they　ate；　broke　camp；　and　set　off　again；　in　the　same　order　as　before；　marching　again　through　the　night。　They　passed　the　next　two　days　and　nights　in　much　the　same　way；　resting　while　the　sun　was　out　and　traveling　by　night。　Valas　even　managed　to　shoot　a　small；　hoofed　animal　a　little　before　dawn　at　the　end　of　their　third　night　of　travel；　and　Halisstra　was　surprised　to　find　that　its　meat　was　light　and　succulent；　better　than　that　of　a　young　rothe。
　　　Toward　the　end　of　the　day　the　clouds　returned；　darker　and　thicker　than　before；　and　as　the　daylight　failed　and　the　dark　elves　made　ready　for　their　fourth　march　on　the　surface；　a　soft　snow　began　to　fall；　wet　and　heavy。　It　was　eerily　silent；　as　if　the　entire　forest　held　its　breath　to　keep　from　intruding　on　the　moment。　Halisstra　watched　vigilantly　behind　the　pany；　taking　a　dozen　steps　forward　and　turning　to　scan　the　trail　behind　them；　sometimes　walking　backward　for　several　minutes　at　a　time；　glancing　to　the　front　only　to　be　sure　of　her　footing。　If　Pharaun's　divinations　were　accurate；　they　should　reach　the　stream　at　the　end　of　that　night　or　perhaps　the　next；　which　meant　that　House　Jaelre　and　the　Vhaeraunite　priest　were　only　a　day　beyond。
　　　With　the　objective　of　their　long　journey　so　close　at　hand；　it　occurred　to　Halisstra　that　she　had　no　reason　why　the　heretic　would　consider　helping　them。　Valas　might　have　been　an　old　acquaintance；　but　no　cleric　of　the　Masked　Lord　would　aid　priestesses　of　Lolth　simply　out　of　the　goodness　of　his　heart。　Some　price　would　have　to　be　met；　of　that　Halisstra　was　certain。　Wealth；　perhaps？　Quenthel　and　her　rades　carried　many　valuable　gemstones。　It　was　the　easiest　and　most　pact　way　to　transport　wealth　through　the　wilds　of　the　Underdark。　Halisstra　had　stuffed　her　own　pockets　too　before　fleeing　Ched　Nasad。　She　doubted　that　a　powerful　Vhaeraunite　would　be　so　easily　purchased；　though。
　　　Coercion　might　be　possible；　or　they　might　have　to　barter　some　kind　of　service　to　win　his　aid。　Danifae　was　occasionally　useful　in　such　arrangements。　Any　drow　had　at　least　one　enemy　in　need　of　a　setback。
　　　She　realized　she'd　fallen　a　bit　behind；　so　she　picked　up　her　pace　to　take　up　position　closer　behind　the　main　body　of　the　pany。　She　trotted　easily　through　the　darkness；　her　boots　gliding　through　the　snow；　until　she　caught　sight　of　Jeggred's　hulking　form　and　the　smaller　shapes　of　her　panions　moving　ahead　of　her。　Halisstra　settled　back　into　her　pace；　and　turned　to　glance　back　down　the　trail。
　　　Someone　was　there。
　　　From　all　sides　she　heard　the　whisper…quiet　sounds　of　soft　feet　stealing　through　the　woods；　then　the　sounds　were　abruptly　cut　off　by　a　perfect；　impenetrable　silence　that　could　only　be　magical。
　　　Halisstra　hissed　in　alarm；　but　heard　nothing。　She　brought　up　her　crossbow。　Directly　up　the　path　a　lanky　male　elf　with　skin　as　white　as　the　snow　darted　toward　her；　armed　with　a　gracefully　curved　war　axe　in　one　hand　and　a　shorter　hand　axe　in　the　other。　His　eyes　glittered　like　green　death　in　the　night。
　　　〃Watch　out！〃　she　cried；　trying　to　warn　her　panions；　but　again　nothing　broke　the　perfect　silence。
　　　Without　a　moment's　hesitation　she　whirled　and　fired　her　crossbow　at　Jeggred；　perhaps　fifty　yards　ahead。　She　skewed　her　aim　a　bit；　so　instead　of　taking　him　between　the　shoulder　blades　the　quarrel　struck　quivering　into　a　tree　beside　the　half…demon's　head。　The　draegloth　leaped　and　shouted…or　so　she　guessed；　anyway；　since　she　couldn't　hear　it…but；　more　importantly；　he　turned　to　see　what　was　happening　behind　him；　and　spied　the　surface　elves　stealing　up　from　behind　them。
　　　An　instant　later；　the　elf　axeman　was　upon　Halisstra；　whirling　his　two　matched　crescent　blades　in　a　deadly　pattern　of　gleaming　steel。　He　was　shouting　something　too；　a　war　cry　perhaps。　Halisstra　gave　up　her　fine　crossbow　to　deflect　the　first　stroke　of　the　long　axe；　leaped　back　out　of　the　reach　of　the　shorter　one；　and　hastily　drew　her　mace；　slinging　her　shield　from　her　shoulder。　The　pale　elf　leaped　forward　to　engage　again；　and　they　circled；　trading　skillful　blows　that　failed　to　find　their　mark。
　　　Halisstra　could　see　more　green…armored　shapes　flitting　through　the　woods　toward　her；　swords　and　spears　glittering　in　the　darkness。　She　redoubled　her　efforts　and　put　the　two…axe　fighter　on　the　defensive；　hoping　to　batter　down　his　defenses　before　she　was　surrounded　by　foes。
　　　A　brilliant；　searing　light　detonated　along　the　trail　behind　her；　filling　the　darkened　forest　with　the　painful　glare　of　daylight。　The　last　thing　she　saw　before　the　spell　blinded　her　pletely　was　a　pany　of　surface　elves　and　human　warriors；　dashing　up　to　join　the　fray。
　　　There　was　only　one　thing　Halisstra　could　do。　Raising　her　shield　to　buy　a　moment's　time；　she　ducked　down；　grasped　a　handful　of　dirt　and　dried　leaves　from　the　ground　at　her　feet；　and　imbued　them　with　magical　darkness；　making　good　use　of　the　power　shared　by　all　drow。　A　heavy　blow　fell　on　her　shield；　without　a　sound；　and　she　quickly　scuttled　away　from　the　axeman；　staying　low　to　the　ground　and　feeling　her　way　along。　Some　of　her　enemies　would　be　waiting　for　her　to　emerge　from　the　impenetrable　blackness…at　least；　that　was　what　Halisstra　would　have　done　in　their　place。　The　wisest　thing　to　do　was　to　remain　within　as　long　as　possible　in　the　hopes　that　the　surface　dwellers　had　no　more　magic　suitable　for　canceling　or　dispelling　her　field　of　darkness。
　　　As　with　any　drow　noble　familiar　with　battle；　Halisstra　knew　to　an　instant　how　long　her　own　dome　of　darkness　would　persist。　In　her　case；　she　could　sustain　the　magical　gloom　for　almost　three　hours。　If　she　lay　still　and　quiet　for　a　long　time；　the　surface　dwellers　might　very　well　think　she'd　slipped　away。　At　the　very　least；　she　was　reasonably　sure　she　could　outwait　the　spell　of　silence　that　covered　the　area。　Once　her　hearing　returned；　she　might　be　able　to　form　a　better　guess　as　to　what　to　do　next。
　　　Mace　in　hand；　she　groped　her　way　to　a　large　tree；　leaned　against　its　trunk；　and　settled　down　to　wait。
　　　
　　　Nimor　stood　patiently　in　the　hall　outside　the　council　chamber；　studiously　allowing　his　shoulders　to　slump　and　his　face　to　sag。　He　was　supposed　to　be　tired；　after　all。　Dressed　in　the　arms　of　an　officer　of　House　Agrach　Dyrr；　he'd　purportedly　fought　his　way　free　of　the　battle　at　Rhazzt's　Dilemma　in　order　to　carry　word　of　the　attack　to　the　matron　mothers。　Of　course；　the　Agrach　Dyrr　garrison　had　already　delivered　the　outpost　to　the　army　of　Gracklstugh；　but　the　matron　mothers　didn't　know　that　yet。
　　　Feigning　exhaustion；　despair；　and　resolve　in　the　proper　quantities　was　difficult　for　him；　especially　when　his　heart　raced　with　excitement　and　his　body　quivered　in　anticipation。　Long…laid　plans　had　found　their　moment　and　unfolded　slowly　toward　a　terrible　fruition。　Through　his　own　labors　and　toils　he　had　altered　the　course　of　two　great　cities。　Both　moved　ponderously　and　yet　inevitably　toward　a　terrible　collision　he　had　imagined　months　before；　and　with　each　hour　events　gathered　speed　and　required　less　and　less　of　his　guidance。　Soon　he　could　allow　himself　to　vanish　from　the　stage　once　more；　his　great　toils　done；　and　make　ready　to　reap　the　rewards　of　his　labors。
　　　To　divert　himself　while　he　awaited　the　summons　to　the　council　in　the　chamber　beyond；　Nimor　studied　the　hall　with　care。　One　never　knew；　after　all；　when　a　half…remembered　doorway　or　a　choice　of　exits　might　spell　the　difference　between　life　and　death。　The　Hall　of　Petition；　as　the　place　was　called；　formed　the　entrance　to　the　matron　mothers'　secretive　council　chamber。　The　high　ladies　themselves　rarely　passed　through　this　room。　They　had　various　secret　and　magical　ways　to　travel　from　their　palaces　and　castles　to　their　seats　within。　Instead；　the　Hall　of　Petition　was　the　place　where　all　who　had　business　with　the　council　awaited　the　matrons'　pleasure。　Naturally；　it　was　nearly　empty。
　　　Any　drow　who　needed　something　simply　begged　it　of　one　of　the　matron　mothers；　and　most　carefully　and　respectfully　at　that。　Only　those　drow　manded　to　appear　before　the　council　waited　in　the　Hall　of　Petition；　and　again；　anyone　whose　presence　was　manded　had　probably　already　made　his　report　to　one　of　the　matron　mothers　beforehand。　The　hall　was　most　monly　employed　as　a　convenient　place　for　persons　of　interest　to　the　council　to　wait　until　called　within　to　deliver　her　report；　present　her　request；　or　more　often　plead　her　case　and　hear　judgment。
　　　Sixteen　proud　male　warriors　and　wizards　stood　in　or　around　the　hall；　two　from　each　of　the　Houses　whose　matron　mothers　sat　on　the　council。　They　were　ostensibly　designated　as　a　guard　for　the　entire　council；　but　in　truth　each　male　spent　most　of　his　time　carefully　watching　the　males　of　rival　Houses　to　make　sure　that　no　secret　attack　was　afoot　that　day。
　　　The　floor；　all　of　polished　black　marble　with　veins　of　gold；　gleamed　in　the　dim　light　of　faerie　fire　globes　set　high　in　the　ceiling；　and　great　friezes　along　the　walls　showed　the　story　of　Menzoberranzan's　founding。
　　　Several　minor　functionaries　scurried　about　the　hall；　bowing　and　scraping　to　all　who　deserved　such　obsequiousness；　and　imperiously　disregarding　any　who　did　not。　Nimor；　wearing　the　arms　of　a　minor　officer　of　House　Agrach　Dyrr；　fell　somewhere　in　between。
　　　To　Nimor's　great　surprise；　he　was　kept　waiting　only　forty　minutes　before　one　of　the　chamberlains　approached　and　gestured　toward　the　door。
　　　〃The　Council　expects　your　report；　Captain；〃　he　said。
　　　Nimor　followed　the　official　into　the　council　chambe