蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第25部分

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ever　before　had　occasion　to　employ　this　last　desperate　means　of　defense；　but　in　the　sixteen　years　since　an　artisan　had　made　it　to　her　specifications；　she　had　always　kept　the　knife　and　scabbard　oiled；　and　the　blade　easily　slid　free。
She　studied　Umrae。　As　far　as　the　envoy　could　tell；　the　imitation　ghoul　hadn't　seen　her　bare　the　dagger；　but　she　doubted　she　could　keep　it　hidden　for　more　than　a　second　or　two。　She　had　to　manufacture　a　chance　for　herself　quickly　if　she　was　to　have　one　at　all。
She　pretended　to　stumble。　She　hoped　her　unsteadiness　looked　genuine。　Umrae　had　touched　her；　after　all；　so　it　might　seem　credible　that　her　strength　was　failing。
The　ghoul　took　the　bait。　She　leaped　forward　and　seized　Faeryl　by　the　forearms。　This　time；　her　claws　punched　through　the　envoy's　layer　of　mail　and　jabbed　their　tips　into　her　flesh。　At　once；　a　surge　of　nausea　wracked　Faeryl；　then　another。　Retching；　she　wasn't　sure　she　could　still　use　the　knife　in　any　sort　of　controlled　manner。　Perhaps　she'd　just　served　herself　up　to　her　foe　like　a　plate　of　mushrooms。
Umrae　grinned　at　Faeryl's　seeming—or　genuine—helplessness。　The　envoy　felt　the　clerk's　fingers　tense；　preparing　to　flense　the　meat　from　her　bones；　even　as　she　pulled　the　noble　closer　and　opened　her　jaws　to　bite　down　on　her　head。
Fighting　the　sickness　and　weakness；　Faeryl　tried　to　thrust　her　hand　forward。　The　effort　strained　her　flesh　against　the　ghoul's　talons；　tearing　her　wounds　larger　and　bringing　a　burst　of　pain—but　then　her　arm　jerked　free。　The　blade　rammed　into　Umrae's　withered　chest；　slipping　cleanly　between　two　ribs　and　plunging　in　all　the　way　up　to　Faeryl's　knuckles。
Umrae　convulsed　and　threw　back　her　head　for　a　silent　scream。　The　spasms　jerked　her　hands　and　threatened　to　rip　Faeryl　apart　even　without　the　traitor's　conscious　intent。　Umrae　froze；　and　toppled　backward；　carrying　her　assailant　with　her。
In　contradiction　of　every　tale　Faeryl　had　ever　heard；　the　shape　shifter　didn't　revert　to　her　original　form　when　true　death　claimed　her。　Still　horribly　sick；　the　envoy　lay　for　some　time　in　the　ghoul's　fetid　embrace。　Eventually；　however；　she　mustered　the　trembling　strength　to　pull　free　of　the　claws　embedded　in　her　bleeding　limbs；　after　which　she　crawled　a　few　feet　away　from　the　winged　corpse。
Gradually；　despite　the　sting　of　her　punctures　and　bruises；　she　started　to　feel　a　little　better。　Physically；　anyway。　Inside　her　mind；　she　was　berating　herself　for　an　oute　that　wasn't　really　a　victory　at　all。
Given　that　she　needed　to　learn　what　Umrae　knew；　not　kill　her；　she'd　bungled　their　encounter　from　the　beginning。　She　supposed　she　should　have　agreed　to　the　traitor's　terms；　but　she'd　been　too　angry　and　too　proud。　She　should　also　have　spotted　the　vial　and　fought　more　skillfully。　If　not　for　luck；　it　would　be　she　and　not　her　erstwhile　scribe　lying　dead　on　the　stone。
She　wondered　if　her　sojourn　in　Menzoberranzan　had　diminished　her。　Back　in　Ched　Nasad；　she　had　enemies　in　and　outside　House　Zauvirr　to　keep　her　strong　and　sharp；　but　in　the　City　of　Spiders　none　had　wished　her　ill。　Had　she　fotten　the　habits　that　protected　her　for　her　first　two　hundred　years　of　life？　If　so；　she　knew　she'd　better　remember　them　quickly。
The　enemy　hadn't　finished　with　her。　She　wasn't　so　dull　and　rusty　that　she　didn't　recall　how　these　covert　wars　unfolded。　It　was　like　a　sava　game；　progressing　a　step　at　a　time；　gradually　escalating　in　ferocity。　Her　unknown　adversary's　first　move；　though　she　hadn't　known　it　at　the　time；　had　been　to　turn　Umrae　and　lie　to　Triel。　Faeryl's　countermove　was　to　capture　the　spy　and　remove　her　from　the　board。　As　soon　as　Umrae　missed　some　prearranged　rendezvous；　the　foe　would　know　her　pawn　had　been　taken　and　advance　another　piece。　Perhaps　it　would　be　the　mother。　Perhaps　the　foe　would　suggest　to　Matron　Baenre　that　the　time　had　e　to　throw　Faeryl　in　a　dungeon。
But　life　wasn't　really　a　sava　game。　Faeryl　could　cheat　and　make　two　moves　in　a　row；　which　in　this　instance　meant　truly　fleeing　Menzoberranzan　as　soon　as　possible；　before　the　enemy　learned　of　her　agent's　demise。
Lightheaded　and　sourmouthed　from　her　exertions；　Faeryl　dragged　herself　to　her　feet；　trudged　in　search　of　Mother's　Kiss；　and　wondered　just　how　she　would　acplish　that　little　miracle。
　
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Cloaked　in　the　semblance　of　a　squat；　leatheryskinned　ore；　whose　twisted　leg　manifestly　made　him　unfit　for　service　in　a　noble　or　even　merchant　House；　Pharaun　took　an　experimental　bite　of　his　sausage　and　roll。　The　unidentifiable　ground　meat　inside　the　casing　tasted　rank　and　was　gristly；　as　well　as　cold　at　the　core。
〃By　the　Demonweb〃　he　exclaimed。
〃What？〃　Ryld　replied。
The　weapons　master　too　appeared　to　be　a　scurvy；　brokendown　ore　in　grubby　rags。　Unbelievably；　he　was　devouring　his　vile　repast　without　any　overt　show　of　repugnance。
〃What？〃　The　Master　of　Sorcere　brandished　his　sausage。　〃This　travesty。　This　abomination。〃
He　headed　for　the　culprit's　kiosk；　a　sad　little　construction　of　bone　poles　and　sheets　of　hide；　taking　care　not　to　walk　too　quickly。　His　veil　of　illusion　would　make　it　look　as　if　he　were　limping；　but　it　wouldn't　conceal　the　anomaly　of　a　lame　ore　covering　ground　as　quickly　as　one　with　two　good　legs。　
The　longarmed；　flatfaced　goblin　proprietor　produced　a　cudgel　from　beneath　the　counter。　Perhaps　he　was　used　to　plaints。
Pharaun　raised　a　hand　and　said；　〃I　mean　no　harm。　In　fact；　I　want　to　help。〃
The　goblin's　eyes　narrowed。　〃Help？〃
〃Yes。　I'll　even　pay　another　penny　for　the　privilege。〃　he　said　as　he　extracted　a　copper　coin　from　his　purse。　〃I　just　want　to　show　you　something。〃
The　cook　hesitated；　then　held　out　a　dirtynailed　hand　and　said；　〃Give。　No　tricks。〃
〃No　tricks。〃
Pharaun　surrendered　the　coins　and　to　the　goblin's　surprise；　squirmed　around　the　end　of　the　counter　and　crowded　into　the　miniature　kitchen。　He　wrapped　his　hand　in　a　fold　of　his　cloak；　slid　the　hot　iron　grill　with　its　load　of　meat　from　its　brackets；　and　set　it　aside。
〃First；〃　Pharaun　said；　〃you　spread　the　coals　evenly　at　the　bottom　of　the　brazier。〃　He　picked　up　a　poker　and　demonstrated。　〃Next；　though　we　don't　have　time　to　start　from　scratch　right　now；　you　let　them　burn　to　gray。　Only　then　do　you　start　cooking；　with　the　grill　positioned　here。〃
He　replaced　the　utensil　in　a　higher　set　of　brackets。
〃Sausage　take　longer　to　fry；〃　the　goblin　said。
〃Do　you　have　somewhere　to　go？　Now；　I'm　going　to　assume　you　buy　these　questionable　delicacies　elsewhere　and　thus　can　do　nothing　about　the　quality；　but　you　can　at　least　tenderize　them　with　a　few　whacks　from　that　mallet；　poke　a　few　holes　with　the　fork　to　help　them　cook　on　the　inside；　and　sprinkle　some　of　these　spices　on　them。〃　Pharaun　grinned。　〃You've　never　so　much　as　touched　a　lot　of　this　stuff；　have　you？　What　did　you　do；　murder　the　real　chef　and　take　possession　of　his　enterprise？〃
The　smaller　creature　smirked　and　said；　〃Don't　matter　now；　do　it？〃
〃I　suppose　not。　One　last　thing：　Roast　the　sausage　when　the　customer　orders　it；　not　hours　beforehand。　It　isn't　nearly　as　appetizing　if　it's　cooked；　allowed　to　cool；　then　warmed　again。　Good　fortune　to　you。〃
He　clapped　the　goblin　on　the　shoulder；　then　exited　the　stand。
At　some　point；　Ryld　had　wandered　up　to　observe　the　lesson。
〃What　was　the　point　of　that？〃　the　warrior　asked。
〃I　was　performing　a　public　service；〃　answered　the　wizard；　〃preserving　the　Braeryn　from　a　plague　of　dyspepsia。〃
Pharaun　fell　in　beside　his　friend；　and　the　two　dark　elves　walked　on。
〃You　were　amusing　yourself；　and　it　was　idiotic。　You　take　the　trouble　to　disguise　us；　then　risk　revealing　your　true　identity　by　playing　the　gourmet。〃
〃I　doubt　one　small　lapse　will　prove　our　undoing。　It's　unlikely　that　any　of　our　illwishers　will　interview　that　particular　street　vendor　any　time　soon　or　ask　the　right　questions　if　they　do。　Remember；　we're　well　disguised。　Who　would　imagine　this　lurching；　misshapen　creature　could　possibly　be　my　handsome；　elegant　self？　Though　I　must　admit；　your　metamorphosis　wasn't　quite　so　much　of　a　stretch。〃
Ryld　scowled；　then　wolfed　down　his　last　bite　of　sausage　and　bread。
〃Why　didn't　you　disguise　us　from　the　moment　we　left　Tier　Breche？〃　he　asked。　〃Never　mind；　I　think　I　know。　A　fencer　doesn't　reveal　all　his　capabilities　in　the　initial　moments　of　the　bout。〃
〃Something　like　that。　Greyanna　and　her　minions　have　seen　us　looking　like　ourselves；　so　if　we're　lucky　they　won't　expect　to　find　us　appearing　radically　different。　The　trick　won't　befuddle　them　forever；　but　perhaps　long　enough　for　us　to　plete　our　business　and　return　to　our　sedate；　cloistered　lives。〃
〃Does　that　mean　you've　figured　out　something　else？〃
〃Not　as　such；　but　you　know　I'm　prone　to　sudden　bursts　of　inspiration。〃
The　masters　entered　a　crowded　section　of　street　outside　of　what　was　evidently　a　popular　tavern；　with　a　howling；　barking　gnoll　song　shaking　the　calcite　walls。　Pharaun　had　never　had　occasion　to　walk　incognito　among　the　lower　orders。　It　felt　odd　weaving；　pausing；　and　twisting　to　avoid　bumps　and　jostles。　Had　they　known　his　true　identity；　his　fellow　pedestrians　would　have　scurried　out　of　his　way。
As　the　two　drow　reached　the　periphery　of　the　crowd；　Ryld　pivoted　and　struck　a　short　straight　blow　with　his　fist。　A　hunchbacked；　piebald　creature—the　product　of　a　mating　of　goblin　and　ore　perhaps—stumbled　backward　and　fell　on　his　rump。
〃Cutpurse；〃　the　warrior　explained。　〃I　hate　this　place。〃
〃No　pangs　of　nostalgia？〃
Ryld　glowered。　〃That　isn't　funny。〃
〃No？　Then　I　beg　your　pardon；〃　Pharaun　said　with　a　smirk。　〃I　wonder　why　this　precinct　always　seems　so　sordid；　even　on　those　rare　occasions　when　one　finds　oneself　alone　in　a　plaza　or　boulevard。　Well；　the　smell；　of　course。　We　don't　call　them　the　Stench　streets　for　nothing；　but　the　buildings；　though　generally　more　modest　than　those　encountered　elsewhere　in　the　city；　still　wear　the　same　graceful　shapes　our　ancestors　cut　from　the　living　rock。〃
The　teachers　paused　to　let　a　spider　with　legs　as　long　as　broadswords　scuttle　across　the　street。　The　Braeryn　notoriously　harbored　hordes　of　the　sacred　creatures。　Sacred　or　not；　Pharaun　reviewed　his　mental　list　of　ready　spells；　but　the　arachnid　ignored　the　disguised　dark　elves
〃That's　a　foolish　question；〃　said　Ryld。　〃Why　does　the　Braeryn　seem　foul？　The　inhabitants〃
〃Ah；　but　did　the　living　refuse　of　our　society　generate　the　atmosphere　of　the　district；　or　did　that　malignant　spirit　exist　from　the　beginning　and　lure　the　wretched　to　its　domain？〃
〃I'm　no　metaphysician；〃　said　Ryld。　〃All　I　know　is　that　somebody　should　clear　the　scavengers　out　of　here。〃
Pharaun　chuckled。　〃What　if　said　clearing　had　occurred　when　you　were　a　tyke？〃
〃I　don't　mean　exterminate　them—except　for　the　hopeless　cases—but　why　just　let　them　squat　here　in　their　dirt　like　a　festering　chancre　on　the　city？　Why　not　find　something　useful　for　them　to　do？〃
〃Ah；　but　they're　already　useful。　Status　is　all；　is　it　not？　Does　it　not　follow；　then；　that　no　Menzoberranyr　can　find　contentment　without　someone　upon　whom　she　can　look　down。〃
〃We　have　slaves。〃
〃They　won't　do。　Predicate　your　claim　to　selfrespect　on　their　existence　and　you　tacitly　acknowledge　you're　only　slightly　better　than　a　thrall　yourself。　Happily；　here　in　the　Stench　streets；　we　find　a　populace　starving；　filthy；　penniless；　riddled　with　disease；　living　twenty　or　thirty　to　a　room；　yet　nominally　free。　The　humblest　moner　in　Many　folk　or　even　Eastmyr　ca