Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [20]
So have yours, Liriel thought with mutinous rage. It was well known that Triel had never taken a consort, and dark whispers suggested the matron mother's tastes were deviant even by drow standards. But to speak of such matters aloud would be less than wise. Nor did Liriel see any reason to either confirm or deny her tutor's boasts. She responded to Triel's baiting only with a noncommittal leer.
The Baenre matron glanced toward Gromph's scowling face, and a tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "In fact," she continued softly, "I think one could say many are looking forward to the day you finally enter the Academy."
There. The old wretch had finally shown her steel. Liriel's heart sank, but she knew there was no possible way to parry the blow to come. Well, she thought grimly,, she could definitely imagine worse fates. Tbe loss of freedom would be hard to take, but she truly enjoyed the study of magic. And Kharza's boasts, although completely untrue, saved her the trouble of establishing a fun-loving reputation. She could hit the Academy running, in a manner of speaking.
"When?" Liriel asked bluntly.
"Considering you're fifteen years late, there's no real hurry. Tomorrow will be soon enough," Triel said. Her red eyes glowed with malicious amusement.
"At your command, Auntie Triel," Liriel agreed. "I will report to the Sorcere before Narbondel reaches midpoint."
Triel's smile broadened. "I'm afraid you misunderstand, dear child," she said with false sweetness. "You will report to Arach-Tinilith."
"What!"
The word burst from Liriel on a shriek of rage and disbelief. She whirled to face her father. The archmage raised his hand, and the look on his face was so forbidding that his daughter's protests and entreaties died unspoken.
"It is the custom of the city, and it is Matron Triel's wish," he said stiffly.
With great difficulty, the young drow managed a nod. Furious at Triel for shunting her off to the clerical school, she was almost as angry at herself for falling into the nasty little trap the old spider had laid for her. Triel had deliberately led her to believe she would be attending the Sorcere, when all along the matron had intended to send her to the clerical school. Liriel paid little heed to Triel's words of instruction and dismissal, and was only vaguely aware of her father's hand on her shoulder, guiding her none too gently out of the chapel.
They were almost to the door when Triel called her name. Still numb with shock, Liriel turned to face the older female. All pretense of pleasantry had faded from the matron's face, and Liriel was stunned by the triumphant, icy malice in Triel's narrowed gaze.
"Listen well, my girl: once you're in the Academy you will follow the same rules as every other novice. Much is expected of you. You will excel in your studies, uphold the honor of House Baenre, and earn the favor of Lloth, or you will not survive. It is that simple." She gave Gromph an arch glance, and Liriel an icy smile. "But you have one last night to carouse. Do have a good time."
"Have a good time," Liriel mimicked bitterly as she and the archmage strode down the hall. "This, from someone whose idea of fun involves whipping people with snakes!"
Her blasphemous remark drew a shocked chuckle from Gromph. "You must learn to guard your tongue," he admonished. "Few of the Academy's mistresses are burdened with a sense of humor."
"Don't I know it! Father, do I really have to become a priestess?" she demanded. "Can't you do anything to stop this?'
Liriel knew the words were a mistake the moment she spoke them. No one stayed healthy for long by pointing out to proud, frustrated Gromph that there were limits to his power.
The expected rage did not come. "It is my will you become a priestess," the archmage said coldly.
He was lying, of course, and he made no effort to hide the
Elnine Cunningham fact. Was her future not worth even that much, effort?
"You have many talents," he continued, "and as a priestess you could accomplish a great