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"I agree, Archmage," said Andzrel.

Gromph turned to look at the warrior, letting a cold gaze linger over the drow's rough features and battle-scarred armor.

"Of course you do," the archmage said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Andzrel looked down then looked at Triel, who only smiled at him.

"House. ." the weapons master began, obviously thinking it safer to continue his debriefing than further patronize the powerful archmage with his support. He cleared his throat and continued, "House Hunzrin is hard pressed against forces of the Scoured Legion in Donigarten north. Vandree holds well against duergar south of the Westrift. Mizzrym lends what it can to Xorlarrin's efforts against Agrach Dyrr, and they also send patrols into the mushroom forest where they've encountered the odd spy."

"The tanarukks are mostly in the east, then?" Gromph asked.

"As one would expect, Archmage," the weapons master risked. "They marched from below Hellgate Keep, which lies to our east. The duergar are from Gracklstugh."

Gromph let a breath out slowly through his nose.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day," Triel murmured. "Gracklstugh. ."

"The tanarukks are more formidable foes," Gromph went on, ignoring his sister. "Tell me that more than House Hunzrin are holding against them."

"Barrison Del'Armgo fights well in the south of Donigarten," Andzrel replied, "against the largest concentration of the Scoured Legion."

"Mez'Barris will have her heroes," Triel sighed.

"North?" Gromph asked.

"Barrison Del'Armgo again, with help from the Academy, holds the Clawrift," replied the weapons master, "mostly east into Eastmyr. The duergar are thin there. There have been reports of illithid incursions—mostly one or two at a time—in the east, from beyond the Wanderways."

"The flayers sense weakness," Gromph said. "They're scavengers. They'll harry us when they can and disappear entirely when they can't. Some of them can prove. . irritating, but they'll wait till we're weaker—if we let ourselves get weaker—before they appear in force."

Neither Triel nor Andzrel risked comment on that.

"And the other Houses?" asked Gromph.

"They protect themselves," Triel answered. "They patrol the immediate surrounds of their manors, assist in keeping the peace in the streets, and I'd prefer to believe, they await command."

"Well," said Gromph, "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Still, I'd have liked more allies within our own damned city."

"Tier Breche is with us," Triel said, "though I doubt I have to tell you that. In Quenthel's absence, Arach-Tinilith answers only to me. I know you have done well in your return to power at Sorcere, and Melee-Magthere will always fight should one raise a blade against the City of Spiders."

"Your gold has paid for the mercenaries, I assume," Gromph said.

Triel shrugged and replied, "Bregan D'aerthe is on extended contract, though the Abyss knows where Jarlaxle's been. It'll take every dead duergar's gold teeth to replenish our coffers in the end, but in the meantime, Bregan D'aerthe act as infiltrators and scouts and are moving forces throughout the city to monitor and support the lesser Houses."

"Much of what we've told you today, Archmage," Andzrel offered, "came from Bregan D'aerthe reports."

"Good for them," Gromph lied.

"Menzoberranzan will stand," Andzrel declared.

"But not forever," Triel added.

"Not for long," said Gromph.

There was a long silence. Gromph spent the time watching the flickering of valuable battle magic being spent against House Agrach Dyrr.

"What will be left?" asked Triel after a time.

"Matron Mother," Andzrel said, "Archmage, in my opinion the greatest threat from within the city is no longer Agrach Dyrr but Barrison Del'Armgo."

Gromph lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at the weapons master.

"Even without any of the lesser Houses at their side," the warrior went on, "they are the greatest threat to the First House's power. Matron Mother Armgo is already making overtures to many of the lesser Houses, especially Hunzrin and Kenafin."

"And?" Triel prompted.

"And," Gromph broke in, finishing on Andzrel's behalf, "they could bite off Donigarten."

"Our food supply," Andzrel added.

Gromph smiled when Triel's face turned almost gray.

"Yes, well," the archmage said, "all things in their turn. Barrison Del'Armgo will answer for their ambitions only after I've cleaned up a more open insurrection."

"Dyrr?" Triel didn't have to ask.

"It's time for our old friend the lichdrow to die again," Gromph replied. "This time, permanently."

Chapter Seven

Danifae counted the warriors in front of her—eight armed with spears, and a row of a dozen crossbowmen behind them—and waited.

"Welcome to the City of Portals," one of the spearmen said, his blood-red eyes darting quickly, alertly, between Danifae and Valas. "If you reach for a weapon or begin to cast a spell, we'll kill you before you get a single breath out."

Danifae flashed the male a smile and was gratified to see his gaze linger on her. If Valas were going to attack, he would have at that moment. He didn't, so Danifae found herself in the position of having to trust him again.

"Who are you, where are you from," the guard asked, "and what is your business in Sschindylryn?"

"I am Valas Hune," the scout answered. He paused and reached up slowly to the neck of his piwafwi. When he drew his cloak aside, the guard's eyes fixed on something. Danifae was sure it had to be the insignia of the mercenary company to which Valas was attached. "My business here is to resupply. Give us a day or so to gather what we need, and we'll be on our way."

The guard nodded and looked at Danifae.

"And you?" he asked. "You don't look Bregan D'aerthe."

Danifae chuckled playfully and replied, "I am Danifae Yauntyrr. And you?"

The guard was puzzled by the question.

"She is a battle-captive in the service of the First Daughter of House Melarn," Valas answered for her.

Danifae felt her skin tingle with suppressed rage. What kind of scout volunteered such information? Or did he mean to put her in her place by reminding her that while he was free, she was not?

The guard smiled—leered almost—and looked Danifae briefly up and down.

"Melarn?" he said. "Never heard of it."

"A lesser House," Valas answered again before Danifae could speak up. "It was destroyed with the others in the fall of Ched Nasad."

The guard looked at her again and said, "That means you're free, eh?"

Danifae shrugged, saying nothing. She, unlike Valas, wasn't about to give away information. The last thing she needed was for anyone to know that she'd come to Sschindylryn to address that very question once and for all.

"We want no trouble with Bregan D'aerthe," the guard said to Valas. "Get your supplies, then get out. Menzoberranyr are less than popular here."

"Why would that be?" asked Valas.

The guards visibly relaxed, and half the crossbowmen slipped the bolts off their weapons and stepped back from the firing line. The spearmen put their weapons up but still stood ready.

"It's your fault," the guard replied, "or so they say."

"What is our fault?" Danifae asked, not certain why she identified herself as Menzoberranyr, having never even been there.

"They say," the guard said, "that it was a Menzoberranyr who killed Lolth."

Valas laughed, letting a generous portion of contempt coat the sound.

"Yes, well. ." the guard finished. "That's what they say."

"This way," Valas said over his shoulder to Danifae.

The battle-captive nodded, took stock of her belongings, and followed the scout past the guards and toward the wide, open gate into the city proper. As she passed him, Danifae gave the guard captain a playful wink. The male's jaw opened, but he managed to catch it before it dropped.