"Never confuse personal feelings with politics!" the tiny but obviously strong matron growled, her tone carrying the unmistakable weight of an open threat. "And never ask me such a question again!"
She threw Alton to the floor but didn’t release him from her penetrating glare.
Alton had known all along that he was merely a pawn in the intrigue between House Hun’ett and House Do’Urden, a necessary link for Matron SiNafay to carry out her treacherous plans. Every now and then, though, Alton’s personal grudge against House Do’Urden caused him to forget his lowly place in this conflict. Looking up now at SiNafay’s bared power, he realized that he had overstepped the bounds of his position.
At the back end of the mushroom grove, the southern wall of the cavern that housed Menzoberranzan, was a small, heavily guarded cave. Beyond the ironbound doors stood a single room, used only for gatherings of the city’s eight ruling matron mothers.
The smoke of a hundred sweet-smelling candles permeated the air, the matron mothers liked it that way. After almost half a century of studying scrolls in the candlelight of Sorcere, Alton did not mind the light, but he was indeed uncomfortable in the chamber. He sat at the back end of a spidershaped table, in a small, unadorned chair reserved for guests of the council. Between the table’s eight hairy legs were the ruling matron mothers’ thrones, all jeweled and dazzling in the candlelight.
The matrons filed in, pompous and wicked, casting belittling glares at the male. SiNafay, at Alton’s side, put a hand on his knee and gave him a reassuring wink. She would not have dared to request a gathering of the ruling council if she was not certain of the worthiness of her news. The ruling matron mothers viewed their seats as honorary in nature and did not appreciate being brought together except in times of crisis.
At the head of the spider table sat Matron Baenre, the most powerful figure in all of Menzoberranzan, an ancient and withered female with malicious eyes and a mouth unaccustomed to smiles.
"We are gathered, SiNafay." Baenre said when all eight members had found their appointed chairs. "For what reason have you summoned the council?"
"To discuss a punishment." SiNafay replied.
"Punishment?" Matron Baenre echoed, confused. The recent years had been unusually quiet in the drow city, without an incident since the Thken’duis-Freth conflict. To the First Matron’s knowledge, no acts had been committed that might require a punishment, certainly none so blatant as to force the ruling council to action. "What individual deserves this?"
"Not an individual." explained Matron SiNafay. She glanced around at her peers, measuring their interest. "A house." she said bluntly. "Daerrnon N’a’shezbaernon, House Do’Urden." Several gasps of disbelief came in reply, as SiNafay had expected.
"House Do’Urden?" Matron Baenre questioned, surprised that any would implicate Matron Malice. By all of Baenre’s knowledge, Malice remained in high regard with the Spider Queen, and House Do’Urden had recently placed two instructors in the Academy.
"For what crime do you dare to charge House Do’Urden?" asked one of the other matrons.
"Are these words of fear, SiNafay?" Matron Baenre had to ask. Several of the ruling matrons had expressed concern about House Do’Urden. It was well known that Matron Malice desired a seat on the ruling council, and, by all measures of the power of her house, she seemed destined to get it.
"I have appropriate cause." SiNafay insisted.
"The others seem to doubt you." replied Matron Baenre.
"You should explain your accusation, quickly, if you value your reputation."
SiNafay knew that more than her reputation was at stake, in Menzoberranzan a false accusation was a crime on par with murder. "We all remember the fall of House DeVir," SiNafay began. "Seven of us now gathered sat upon the ruling council beside Matron Ginafae DeVir."
"House DeVir is no more." Matron Baenre reminded her.
"Because of House Do’Urden." SiNafay said bluntly.
This time the gasps came out as open anger.
"How dare you speak such words?" came one reply.
"Thirty years!" came another. "The issue has been forgotten!"
Matron Baenre quieted them all before the clamor rose into violent action―a not uncommon occurrence in the council chamber. "SiNafay," she said through the dry sneer on her lips. "One cannot make such an accusation; one cannot discuss such beliefs openly so long after the event! You know our ways. If House Do’Urden did indeed commit this act, as you insist, it deserves our compliments, not our punishment, for it carried it through to perfection. House DeVir is no more, I say. It does not exist."
Alton shifted uneasily, caught somewhere between rage and despair. SiNafay was far from dismayed, though this was going exactly as she had envisioned and hoped.
"Oh, but it does!" she responded, rising to her feet. She pulled the hood from Alton’s head. "In this person!"
"Gelroos?" asked Matron Baenre, not understanding.
"Not Gelroos." SiNafay replied. "Gelroos Hun’ett died the night House DeVir died. This male, Alton DeVir, assumed Gelroos’s identity and position, hiding from further attacks by House Do’Urden!"
Baenre whispered some instructions to the matron at her right side, then waited as she went through the semantics of a spell. Baenre motioned for Sinafay to return to her seat, then faced Alton.
"Speak your name." Baenre commanded.
"I am Alton DeVir." Alton said, gaining strength from the identity he had waited so very long to proclaim, "son of Matron Ginafae and a student of Sorcere on the night House Do’Urden attacked."
Baenre looked to the matron at her side.
"He speaks the truth." the matron assured her. Whispers sprang up all around the spider table, of amusement more than anything else.
"That is why I summoned the ruling council." SiNafay quickly explained.
"Very well, SiNafay." said Matron Baenre. "My compliments to you, Alton DeVir, on your resourcefulness and ability to survive. For a male, you have shown great courage and wisdom. Surely you both know that the council cannot exact punishment upon a house for a deed committed so long ago. Why would we so desire? Matron Malice Do’Urden sits in the favor of the Spider Queen, her house shows great promise. You must reveal to us greater need if you wish any punishment against House Do’Urden."
"I do not wish such a thing." SiNafay quickly replied. "This matter, thirty years removed, is no longer in the realm of the ruling council. House Do’Urden does indeed show promise, my peers, with four high priestesses and a host of other weapons, not the least of which being their second boy, Drizzt, first graduate of his class." She had purposely mentioned Drizzt, knowing that the name would strike wound in Matron Baenre. Baenre’s own prized son, Berg’inyon, had spent the last nine years ranked behind the wonderful young Do’Urden.
"Then why have you bothered us?" Matron Baenre demanded, an unmistakable edge in her voice.
"To ask you to close your eyes." SiNafay purred. "Alton is Hun’ett now, under my protection. He demands vengeance for the act committed against his family, and, as a surviving member of the attacked family, he has the right of accusation."
"House Hun’ett will stand beside him?" Matron Baenre asked, turning curious and amused.
"Indeed." replied SiNafay. "Thus is House Hun’ett bound!"
"Vengeance?" another matron quipped, also now more amused than angered. "Or fear? It would seem to my ears that the matron of House Hun’ett uses this pitiful DeVir creature for her own gain. House Do’Urden aspires to higher ranking, and Matron Malice desires to sit upon the ruling council, a threat to House Hun’ett, perhaps?"