Matron Baenre stroked the head of the oldest female; a cleric recently finished in her studies at the Academy. "Nobles they were born, and nobles they remain." Baenre said.
"House Baenre accepts them into its protection they bear the name of Baenre now." Disgruntled whispers filtered through the gathering. Three young nobles, two of them female, was quite a prize. Any house in the city gladly would have taken them in.
"Baenre." Briza whispered to Malice. "Just what the first house needs, more clerics!"
"Sixteen high priestesses is not enough, it seems." Malice answered.
"And no doubt, Baenre will take any surviving soldiers of House Freth." Briza reasoned.
Malice was not so certain. Matron Baenre was walking a thin line by taking even the surviving nobles. If House Baenre got too powerful, Lolth surely would take exception.
In situations such as this, where a house had been almost eradicated, surviving common soldiers were normally pooled out to bidding houses. Malice would have to watch for such an auction. Soldiers did not come cheaply, but at this time, Malice would welcome the opportunity to add to her forces, particularly if there were any magic-users to be had.
Matron Baenre addressed the guilty house. "House Thken’duis!" she called. "You have broken our laws and have been rightfully caught. Fight if you will, but know that you have brought this doom upon yourself." With a wave of her hand, she set the Academy, the dispatcher of justice, into motion.
Great braziers had been placed in eight positions around House Thken’duis, attended by mistresses of Arach-Tinilith and the highest-ranking clerical students. Flames roared to life and shot into the air as the high priestesses opened gates to the lower planes. Drizzt watched closely, mesmerized and hoping to catch a glimpse of either Dinin or Vierna.
Denizens of the lower planes, huge, many-armed monsters, slime covered and spitting fire, stepped through the flames. Even the nearest high priestesses backed away from the grotesque horde. The creatures gladly accepted such servitude. When the signal from Matron Baenre came, they eagerly descended upon House Teken’duis.
Glyphs and wards exploded at every corner of the house’s feeble gate, but these were mere inconveniences to the summoned creatures.
The wizards and students of Sorcere then went into action, slamming at the top of House Teken’duis with conjured lightning bolts, balls of acid, and fireballs. Students and masters of Melee-Magthere, the school of fighters, rushed about with heavy crossbows, firing into windows where the doomed family might try to escape.
The horde of monsters bashed through the doors. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed.
Zak looked at Drizzt, and a frown replaced the master’s smile. Caught up in the excitement―and it certainly was exciting―Drizzt bore an expression of awe.
The first screams of the doomed family rolled out from the house, screams so terrible and agonized that they stole any macabre pleasure that Drizzt might have been experiencing. He grabbed Zak’s shoulder, spinning the weapon master to him, begging for an explanation.
One of the sons of House Teken’duis, fleeing a ten-armed giant monster, stepped out onto the balcony of a high window. A dozen crossbow quarrels struck him simultaneously, and before he even fell dead, three separate lightning bolts alternately lifted him from the balcony, then dropped him back onto it.
Scorched and mutilated, the drow corpse started to tumble from its high perch, but the grotesque monster reached out a huge, clawed hand from the window and pulled it back in to devour it.
"Drow justice." Zak said coldly. He didn’t offer Drizzt any consolation; he wanted the brutality of this moment to stick in the young drow’s mind for the rest of his life.
The siege went on for more than an hour, and when it was finished, when the denizens of the lower planes were dismissed through the braziers’ gates and the students and instructors of the Academy started their march back to Tier Breche, House Teken’duis was no more than a glowing lump of lifeless, molten stone.
Drizzt watched it all, horrified, but too afraid of the consequences to run away. He did not notice the artistry of Menzoberranzan on the return trip to House Do’Urden.
Chapter 10
The Stain of Blood
"Zaknafein is out of the house?" Malice asked.
"I sent him and Rizzen to the Academy to deliver a message to Vierna." Briza explained. "He shan’t return for many hours, not before the light of Narbondel begins its descent."
"That is good," said Malice. "You both understand your duties in this farce?"
Briza and Maya nodded. "I have never heard of such a deception." Maya remarked. "Is it necessary?"
"It was planned for another of the house." Briza answered, looking to Matron Malice for confirmation. "Nearly four centuries ago."
"Yes." agreed Malice. "The same was to be done to Zaknafein, but the unexpected death of Matron Vartha, my mother, disrupted the plans."
"That was when you became the matron mother," Maya said.
"Yes," replied Malice, "though I had not passed my first century of life and was still training in Arach-Tinilith. It was not a pleasant time in the history of House Do’Urden."
"But we survived." said Briza. "With the death of Matron Vartha, Nalfein and I became nobles of the house"
"The test on Zaknafein was never attempted." Maya reasoned.
"Too many other duties preceded it." Malice answered.
"We will try it on Drizzt, though." said Maya.
"The punishment of House Thken’duis convinced me that this action had to be taken." said Malice.
"Yes." Briza agreed. "Did you notice Drizzt’s expression throughout the execution?"
"I did." answered Maya. "He was revolted."
"Unfitting for a drow warrior," said Malice, "and so this duty is upon us. Drizzt will leave for the Academy in a short time, we must stain his hands with drow blood and steal his innocence."
"It seems a lot of trouble for a male child." Briza grumbled.
"If Drizzt cannot adhere to our ways, then why do we not simply give him to Lolth?"
"I will bear no more children!" Malice growled in response. "Every member of this family is important if we are to gain prominence in the city!" Secretly Malice hoped for another gain in converting Drizzt to the evil ways of the drow. She hated Zaknafein as much as she desired him, and turning Drizzt into a drow warrior, a true heartless drow warrior, would distress the weapon master greatly.
"On with it, then." Malice proclaimed. She clapped her hands, and a large chest walked in, supported by eight animated spider legs. Behind it came a nervous goblin slave.
"Come, Byuchyuch." Malice said in a comforting tone. Anxious to please, the slave bounded up before Malice’s throne and held perfectly still as the matron mother went through the incantation of a long and complicated spell.
Briza and Maya watched in admiration at their mother’s skills the little goblin’s features bulged and twisted, and its skin darkened. A few minutes later, the slave had assumed the appearance of a male drow. Byuchyuch looked at its features happily, not understanding that the transformation was merely a prelude to death.
"You are a drow soldier now." Maya said to it, "and my champion. You must kill only a single, inferior fighter to take your place as a free commoner of House Do’Urden!" After ten years as an indentured servant to the wicked dark elves, the goblin was more than eager.
Malice rose and started out of the anteroom. "Come." she ordered, and her two daughters, the goblin, and the animated chest fell in line behind her.
They came upon Drizzt in the practice room, polishing the razor edge of his scimitars. He leaped straight up to silent attention at the sight of the unexpected visitors.