Ryld took up positions in a small rotunda a short ways down the tunnel, a dark and open space from which they could keep the ap-proach to their refuge under careful observation without being seen them-selves. Folded in theirpiwafwis,they were virtually indistinguishable from the dark stone around them. Despite the capricious chaos and gnawing ambition that burned in every drow heart, any drow of accomplishment was capable of patience and iron discipline in the performance of an im-portant task, and so Halisstra and Ryld set themselves to watch and wait in vigilant silence.
Halisstra tried to empty her mind of all but the input of her senses, to better stand her watch, but she found that her head was filled with thoughts that did not care to be dismissed. It occurred to Halisstra that whatever became of her from this day forward, she would rise or fall based on noth-ing more than her own strength, cunning, and ruthlessness. The displeasure of House Melarn meant nothing. If she desired respect, she would have to make the displeasure of Halisstra Melarn something to be feared in its place. All because Lolth had decided to test those most faithful to her. By the caprice of the goddess House Melarn of Ched Nasad, whose leading females for centuries beyond counting had poured out blood and treasure upon the Spider Queen's altars, had been cast down.
Why? Halisstra wondered. Why?
The answer was cold and empty, of course. Lolth's machinations were not for her priestesses to understand, and her tests could be cruel indeed. Halisstra ground her teeth softlyand tried to thrust her weak questions out of her heart. If Lolth chose to test Halisstra's faith by stripping her of every-thing she held dear to see if the First Daughter of House Melarn could win it back, the Spider Queen would find her equal to the challenge.
Care to talk about it?Ryld's fingers flashed discretely in the sophisti-cated sign language of the dark elves.
Talk about what?
Whatever it is that troubles you. Something has you tied in a knot, priestess.
It is nothing to concern a male, she replied.
Of course. It never is.
Their eyes met across the small chamber. Halisstra was surprised to find Ryld's face twisted in a curious expression of bitter resignation and wry amusement at the same time. She studied him carefully, trying to as-certain what motive he might have had for striking up a conversation.
He was very tall and strongly built for a male - for any dark elf, really - just as tall as she was herself. His close-cropped hair was an exotic affecta-tion in drowsociety, a strangely ascetic austerity for a race that delighted in things of beauty and personal refinement. Drow were ruthlessly prag-matic in their dealings with one another, but not in their grooming. Most males in Halisstra's experience preened themselves, affecting silken grace and deadly guile. Pharaun virtually epitomized the type. Ryld, she realized, was something very different.
You fight well, she offered - not an apology, not to a male, but still something. You could have let me die in Ched Nasad, yet you risked yourself to save me. Why?
We had an agreement. You led us to safety, and we helped you escape.
Yes, but I had discharged my end of the bargain by that time. There was no need to honor yours.
There was no need not to.Ryld offered a slight smile, and shifted to a soft whisper. "Besides, it seems that it was in my own interests to save you, as not an hour ago you saved my life in turn. We are indebted to each other."
Halisstra laughed at that, so quietly that no one more than ten feet away would have noticed.
We are not a race given to honoring our debts, she signed.
That has been made clear to me more than once,the weapons master replied. A brief flicker of pain crossed his face, and Halisstra wondered exactly whom the Master of Melee-Magthere had trusted, and why he'd done something so foolish. Before she could ask, he continued,So tell me of the bae'qeshel.I do not know of them.
"By tradition," she whispered, "our wizards, swordsmen, and clerics are trained in academies. This is true in most drow cities. The reason you do not know of thebae'qeshel is that the bardic training is not a public matter. We pass our secrets, one mistress to one student at a time."
I thought the noble Houses had little use for common minstrels.
"Thebae'qeshel are not common minstrels, weapons master," Halis-stra said in a low voice. "We are a