Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [40]
"We are, Matron Mistress. The girl has been tested carefully, and found ready to leap ahead in several areas of study. She shows an astonishing aptitude for magical travel. Today she began studying the lower planes with the twelfth-year class. At the rate she learns, she may be able to summon smaller denizens, perhaps even plane-walk, before her first year is over. However," Zeld cautioned, "Liriel is disgracefully ignorant in many areas, far below acceptable standards even for a first-year novice. Her formal education has been sadly neglected. She knows almost nothing of Menzoberranzan's great history, and precious little about the worship of the Spider Queen. And while she understands social protocol well enough, she has no idea of how to conduct herself within the ranks of Lloth's clergy."
"It is your job to fill in these gaps," the matron mistress pointed out coldly. "If indeed Liriel has found time to play pranks, she is not being kept properly occupied."
Zeld stiffened, but she knew better than to argue with powerful Triel. "You have my word: House Baenre will gain
Daughter of the Drew another high priestess in record time."
"Excellent. I want to be kept informed of Liriel's activities."
"Oh, I'm sure you will hear of them," the mistress said dryly. "Remember, she was placed in a twelfth-year class to study planar travel. For at least part of the day, Liriel and
Shakti Hunzrin will be classmates."
In the privacy of her dormitory room, Shakti Hunzrin hurled her treacherous pitchfork against the wall. The impact of the weapon and its clattering descent were muffled by the priestess's shrieks of rage.
The next items to take flight were Shakti's clothes. Somehow, her garments had been saturated with the scent of rothe manure, and the furious female tore them off and flung them aside. She stalked over to her washstand and sniffed at the water in the pitcher. At least that had not been tainted with the odor, she thought grimly. She poured some water into the basin and began to scrub herself with a sponge.
There was no doubt in Shakti's mind who was responsible for this latest indignity. She remembered the disbelief and rage in Liriel Baenre's eyes when she had commanded the new student to serve her at breakfast. Shakti had been totally within her rights to do so, yet Liriel had openly, boldly denied her the respect she had earned through twelve years of hard labor in this spider-shaped prison. And even worse, the little chit had gotten away with it!
Just another example, Shakti thought bitterly, of how badly managed the city was. The priestesses set the rules and disregarded them at will. To Shakti's eyes, Liriel could do whatever she liked, and for no better reason than the name she had inherited. A Baenre could do no wrong, it seemed, not even after the old matron had led Menzoberranzan into near ruin. But whatever else the past two days might have brought, at least they had given Shakti a focus for her rage, and her resentment, and her frustration. All that was wrong with Menzoberranzan finally had a name.
Shakti hated Liriel Baenre. The purity and strength of that emotion surpassed anything the young priestess had ever experienced. She hated Liriel for her royal birth, and for all the turmoil caused by her grandmother's long reign and disastrous war. She bated the girl for her beauty and her instant popularity at the Academy. She hated Liriel's sharp wit; whenever the wench was about, Shakti sensed there was a joke being told that she herself could not perceive. Worse, Shakti felt certain she was the butt of that joke. She hated Liriel for her quick mind, and the ease with which the girl learned things that should have taken her years of toil. But most of all, Shakti hated Liriel for the freedom she had enjoyed for fifteen years. She herself had been forced to enter the Academy at the onset of puberty. Why should a Baenre be treated any differently? For all of those injustices, vowed the Hunzrin priestess, Liriel Baenre would pay dearly.
The dark elf dressed and