...and calls a council of war

"Why wait?” Aliara asked. The sound of her own words surprised her, but they felt right, so she kept talking. “How much preparing do we need to do? We're here, you're here, let's make a plan.” Lil'esh gawked at her and opened her mouth to speak, but Aliara waved her into silence.

"I'm ready to leave now, Matron," the half-elf said. "Right now. I'll bring you back Lord Lockh's head." She paced back and forth to burn off energy. It seemed to well up inside her, driving her onward. "Send me with one of your warriors. Or don't, I don't care. But I want to strike now! We might not get a better chance than this. Right now Lockh is in disarray. We don't do this now, and I mean in the next day or so, we may not get another shot."

The Matron looked down at her, a faint smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "Ssssso impatient, Aliara," she said. "Do hyou court ****?"

The question surprised Aliara. She hadn't even considered the possibility.

"Sure," she said, hiding her sudden uncertainty behind a confident smirk. "His. Come on, Lil'esh, what do you think? You can talk to the drow, you know them better than I do. Any fighters in this group?"

Lil'esh looked uncertain, but at last the conversation had entered her wheelhouse. "Well, House Vonn is a famous soldiering house... I didn't see Lord Vonn, but I think his second son might be here... there's House Rugath, who run the Fangs..."

"Nuh-uh. Those are all soldiers, Lil'esh. I need someone sneaky. Come on, isn't there a House known for assassinations and things? Spies and thieves and dirty tricks."

"That's a bit of a stereotype, isn't it?" Lil'esh crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Aliara. "You know, we're not all like—”

Aliara rolled her eyes. "Don't bullshit me, Lil'esh, you know I lived in the City for years. Fine, you're not all honorless murderers. Happy? Now, who is?"

Lil'esh sighed and her shoulders slumped. "I'll look around," she said.

"You will not invade the City without my leave," the Matron said. Aliara bristled, but the huge drider held up a hand and went on. "Which I will, of coursssssse, grant. But let one of my warriorsssss accompany you. I have ssssseveral I believe would be of ssssssservice."

"All right," Aliara said. "How long will it take to get everything in order?"

"This afternoon?" Lil'esh asked. "Is that soon enough for you?" Sarcasm threaded her tone, but Aliara ignored it.

"Sure," she replied. "Matron?"

"It shall be sssssso," the Matron promised. "Return to me in four turnssssss of the glassssssss. But—” she cocked her head, "should we not bring Teyssssa in to thisssssss meeting? She may have insssssssight into thisssss foe. She hassssss fought him, after all."

Aliara's heart skipped a beat. She felt an icy fist clench her insides. "N-no need," she said weakly. She thought for a moment about coming up with a lie, but she knew the Matron would see right through it. "She would try to stop me. You know that. If she knew what I was planning she'd try to put a stop to it."

"Not if I sssssupport hyou. She will not defy me to my face."

Aliara wasn't sure if she believed that, but she didn't want to make an issue of it. Instead, she said "If she demanded I stay, I would. I couldn't defy her either."

The Matron's eyes were, as ever, unreadable, as black and glossy as a shark's. Her expression, though, had a certain tenderness to it, a certain sympathy. She looked more like a statue than ever: perhaps a shepherd, tending to her lost lamb. Somehow the kindness in her face was more chilling to Aliara than harshness might have been. _Yes, you'll be sure to keep Teysa away, won't you? Aliara thought. How thoughtful of you. After all, she might convince me not to go. Might want to go herself in my stead. And you can't have that, can you? If I go, if I die, well, that's sad, but Teysa will get over it. She'll have you there for her. And then I won't be there, whispering in her ear, making her uncomfortable when she should be fitting in._

All that passed through her mind in a moment. She wasn't sure how much of it was paranoia and how much was genuine insight. It didn't change things, anyways. She was going to do what had to be done, and if the Matron would prefer she didn't come back, she'd just have to disappoint her.

They met atop the Matron's pillar. Lil'esh came, bringing two drow: a young man in ragged black robes, and an older woman who looked enough like him that she could be his mother. All three of the drow kept stealing glances at Rakkec, who looked distinctly out of place among such company. He hung back, unwilling to join the circle, and flinched whenever anyone looked at him. Two other driders flanked the Matron. One was one of her guards, clad in iron armor and carrying a leaf-bladed spear. The other, Aliara had seen occasionally around the fringes of the warren: Luneth, an ascended drider who had once been a wood elf. Aliara shivered. She remembered a conversation she'd had with Teysa, a few weeks before the battle.

"Don't you want to talk to her?" Teysa had asked. The two of them were in their room, Teysa sitting on a stone with her breastplate on her lap. She was wiping it methodically with a piece of silk, pausing occasionally to smear some foul-smelling unguent on the metal. The task seemed to take up all of her attention, and Aliara loved to watch her work.

Today, they were talking about the ascended driders. There weren't many of them, and they didn't seem to have any special affinity for each other. Their shared experiences, if anything, drove them apart. Jez'ria was easy enough to talk to, although Aliara got the impression that even as a human she hadn't been much of a conversationalist. Luneth, though...

"She's scary," she'd replied. "She doesn't look at you when you're talking to her, ever notice that? She looks through you. You just know she's measuring you up for her horrible trophy room. And she scars herself. That mark on her neck, I'm pretty sure she did that herself."

"Oh." Teysa didn't seem disappointed or pleased by this information. The armor was taking up all of her attention. Aliara rested her chin in her hands and watched her with a smile playing about her face. "I just thought you two might get along, is all," Teysa continued. "She is—she was an elf. Maybe you'd find something to talk about."

Aliara sighed. Teysa didn't mean to be rude, she knew that, but sometimes... "Tey, I'm half-human too. Most elves I've met don't want to talk to me either. I don't have anything in common with them. And it's not all, you know, dancing around trees and celebrating the moon and stuff. Wood elves, especially from the really deep woods, can be... weird."

Weird was right. Luneth stood behind the Matron with her bow in her hands. Its curve was an arc of ivory-white wood, its string a piece of silver thread so thin it seemed invisible. She had an arrow nocked and had even put a little tension in the string, and while it wasn't pointed at anyone, its presence sat uneasily on Aliara's nerves. Luneth was naked, too; the drider guard wore armor, and even the Matron had donned a black silk drape, perhaps to set their guests at ease. Luneth, standing behind her and staring into the middle distance, looked jarringly out of place, like a tree growing in the middle of a solemn chapel.

Aliara tried to ignore her. There was something itching at her, something she felt like she was forgetting. Someone. Who was supposed to be here, and wasn't? She was just missing Teysa, she guessed.

The Matron called the meeting to order. "Let usssss be known to each other, and we can proceed. Thesssssse are Zir'ekk and Luneth, my finest sssssssoldierssssssss."

"I am Lil'esh, of House Riiv." Lil'esh made a strange gesture that was half bow, half twirl, which Aliara figured for drow courtly manners.

The old woman behind her cleared her throat. Her voice was a husky burr. "I am Lady Do'von of House Sinope. This is my son, Ruvvel. Lil'esh tells us that you seek to slay the usurper."

Her diction was stilted and formal, each word precisely chosen, each vowel perfectly rounded. Her face was long, just starting to show faint care-lines. Her hair was done up in a tight, severe bun, pinned in place with a single silver spike the size of Aliara's boot dagger. She wore a nondescript gown, elegant but old-fashioned looking, with a frilled collar and cuffs. And she was armed. Aliara wasn't sure with what, nor how exactly she could tell: it was something in the way the woman carried herself, something in the way she moved.

Her son remained silent. He pushed his palms together as though praying and bowed his head as his mother introduced herself. His eyes were deep-set and sullen, his mouth a thin line. He had no hair that Aliara could see, not even eyebrows.

Rakkec surprised her by speaking up. "I'm, uh, Rakkec," he offered. "I am, uh, I was, a miner. Freelance. Korrio was my friend." He looked down and kicked at the stone with the toes of one boot. "I was Lockh's prisoner for a while. Aliara asked me to come here, but I don't really think I'll be of much help."

An awkward silence descended. Aliara began to feel a little guilty for bringing him. She spoke up, smiling her brightest false smile. "I'm, uh, Aliara. Most of you know me..." she turned to the Sinope drow, "some of you don't. But I'm a guest of the driders, same as you." Not quite the same, but close enough, I suppose.

"We know you, child," Lady Do'von said. She sounded like someone's beloved grandmother, her face all kindly smiles. Aliara could tell an act when she saw one, but she had to admit it was a pretty good act. "We are honored by your presence."

"So, now that we're all friends... we all want the same thing, right?" Aliara absentmindedly drew a throwing dagger and spun it around her thumb.

"To bring an end to the usurper." Lady Do'von sounded prim and precise, as though she were discussing the proper way to perform a tea ceremony.

"We all want Lockh dead," Lil'esh said. "The question is how."

"How's easy enough," Aliara said, tossing her dagger from hand to hand. "I've dealt with his kind before. Mage-knights, wizard-kings... they've all got to sleep sometime, and their defenses are only as good as their dumbest guard. What I need to know is: where does he sleep? Do we know that? What kinds of defenses will he have?" She turned to Lady Do'von. "You're probably the expert here. Say I came to you with a bag of gold and told you I needed Lockh dead by dawn. What would you do?"

"Aliara!" Lil'esh scolded. "Lady Do'von isn't a, a, a butcher! Show more respect! Her craft is ancient and sacred and—”

"Oh, hush, child," Do'von said with a wave of one beringed hand. "No need to stand on ceremony here. I like this one. She gets right to the point." She steepled her fingers and peered over them at Aliara, looking for all the world like a schoolteacher.

"Well, dear, if you came to me and said all that—and brought a big bag, mind you—I would tell you... no."

"No?" Aliara blinked in surprise.

"No. I wouldn't do it. There's simply too much we don't know."

"But—" Aliara began, but the older woman waved her into silence.

"The Game is ever-changing, dear, but it has rules. If you don't follow them, you won't last long. Chief among them is the value of information. You cannot simply go barging in against an enemy with unknown capabilities and unknown defenses." She held up her fingers and began ticking them off. "Does he have a body double? How many? How will you know which is real? Does he have contingent spells cast on him? How about his guards? How many, how are they trained, are they bribeable? How about his grounds? Does he have hounds? Monitor lizards? A vexraven? Will poison work? Which antidotes does he keep on him? Who is his food taster? When does he leave his manse? Does he travel with an entourage?" She threw up her hands. "I could go on. Get any one of those wrong, and **** will be a mercy when it comes for you."

Aliara ground her teeth. She felt helpless, moreso because she knew the woman was right. "So what? We just give up? Maybe we send him a nice letter asking for a map to his bedchamber?"

Lady Do'von shrugged. "Young Lady Riiv brought me here for my expertise. And there it is. I wouldn't do it, personally. Maybe we send a scout, gather more information, and follow up later. My boy will do it, won't you, Ruvvel?"

Ruvvel formed one hand into a fist and thumped it into his chest in salute. He nodded.

The Matron shook her head. "Aliara issssss right. While we wait and creep around in the dark, our foe growsssssss sssssstronger. We cannot wait. If thissssss were a problem the drow could ssssssolve, we would not be in thissssss posssssssition."

Lil'esh brindled at that, baring her teeth in an angry grimace. "I don't recall you faring much better," she hissed. "It was Teysa that saved you when—”

She sputtered into silence with a shocked expression on her face, the expression of a woman who had run out of rope before she ran out of cliff. She crossed her arms and stuck her chin out defiantly, her lower lip jutting out. She looked so petty and petulant that Aliara had to suppress a laugh, but she found herself feeling a little sympathetic, too. Lil'esh's anger was driven by wounded pride. Aliara understood that all too well.

The Matron stared down at her, the faintest hint of a smile playing around her lips. She let the moment drag on a little longer while Lil'esh writhed under her gaze. Finally, she raised her hands and bowed her head in a gesture of apology.

"Of courssssssse," she said. "We all want the same thing. I merely sssssssuggest that we act with alacrity." She folded her fingers in and peered over them. "Assssss bad asssssss that battle wasssssss, if we give him time to prepare, the next one will be worsssssssse."

"What about you, Aliara?" Lil'esh turned to her. "Wouldn't you rather go in forewarned? Ruvvel Sinope will scout and gather information, and then we can devise a real plan of action."

"Uh, I wouldn't." Rakkec's voice was tiny, but it made Aliara start. She'd practically forgotten he was there. He really does fade into the background. She looked around and saw the others following suit. Rakkec shrank under the weight of their combined attention.

"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I--"

"What was that?" Lady Do'von folded her fingers over each other. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. Forget it. I'm sorry, milady, I spoke out of turn."

She hissed. "You foolish urthik, you were invited to this council. If you have something to add, then add it." The hair on the back of Aliara's neck bristled; the word Lady Do'von had used wasn't the rudest word for "low-caste" that the drow had, but it certainly wasn't polite. But instead of getting mad, Rakkec had adopted a hangdog look that made Aliara want to throttle him.

"Beg pardon, milady," Rakkec said, touching his forelock instinctively, "but Lockh has his own guards. He's paranoid as all hell. Kor- that _thing _made him deploy them in all the tunnels leading into the city."

"The Lockh House Guard?" Do'von sniffed. "Toy soldiers. Good for intimidating blacksmiths, I suppose, but--"

"No, milady." Rakkec sounded miserable, but his voice was firm and unshaking. He looked her in the eye. "Beg pardon," he repeated, "but it ain't them no more. They're like... shadows. Like he drew the shadows right outta the men and there was no man left, just the shadow." He shuddered, his eyes staring at nothing. "And the hounds, too. He pulled their shadows out through their skin. I don't know what they are, but they can smell drow a mile away. Through solid stone, too. No way your young lord there gets under the city walls without being sniffed out."

"Well." Do'von seemed momentarily lost for words. "So you were invited to this meeting for a reason. You see?" She turned to Aliara. "This is what I was talking about. We have only the faintest idea of Lockh's capabilities."

"Damn." Aliara sagged. She couldn't argue with Do'von's logic. She wanted to bury her knife in Lord Lockh's spine, wanted it as badly as she'd ever wanted anything, and she would gladly die for the opportunity-- but only if there was an opportunity. She didn't intend to throw her life away for no reason.

"What do we do, then?" she asked. "There has to be some way to approach unseen. There has to."