war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第31部分

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　her　snapping　arm。
She　never　knew　what　brought　her　out　of　that　joyous　condition。　Perhaps　it　was　simply　that　she　was　winded；　but　when　she　came　to　her　senses；　the　two　babblers　were　dangling　limp　and　silent　in　Jeggred's　grip。
Both　the　draegloth　and　the　scribe　were　smiling。　They'd　thoroughly　ennotjoyed　the　cousins'　excruciating　torture；　but　there　were　things　still　to　be　done；　and　she'd　wasted　time　losing　her　temper。
Which　was　bad。　Matron　Mother　Baenre；　de　facto　ruler　of　the　entire　city　of　Menzoberranzan；　should　be　able　to　govern　herself　as　well。
Triel's　emotional　volatility　was　of　paratively　recent　origin。　She'd　been　calm　and　petent　all　the　while　she　served　as　Mistress　of　Arach…Tinilith。　That　role；　arguably　second　only　to　her　mother's　in　prestige；　had　suited　her　well；　and　she'd　never　aspired　to　anything　more。
Nor　had　she　truly　believed　that　more　was　even　possible。　Her　mother　seemed　immortal。　Indestructible。　But　then；　suddenly；　she　was　gone；　and　the　ambition　that　at　one　time　or　another　goaded　every　dark　elf　awoke　in　Triel's　breast。　How　could　she　not　strive　to　ascend　to　her　mother's　throne？　How　could　she　let　Quenthel　or　one　of　her　other　kin　climb　over　her　head　to　order　her　about　forever　after？
She　managed　to　claim　the　title　of　Matron　Mother；　and　though　she　soon　came　to　feel　somewhat　overwhelmed　by　the　scope　and　intricacies　of　the　position；　at　first　it　wasn't　so　bad。　Things　were　relatively　normal　and　didn't　require　some　dramatic　intervention　from　on　high　to　set　them　right。
Moreover；　she　had　Quenthel　and　Gromph　to　advise　her。　True；　her　sister　and　brother　invariably　disagreed；　but　Triel　could　review　their　peting　proposals　and　pick　the　one　that　suited　her。　It　was　considerably　easier　than　having　to　e　up　with　the　ideas　herself。
But　she　had　a　crisis　to　manage；　perhaps　the　greatest　crisis　in　the　long　hisnottory　of　the　dark　elves；　and　apparently　she　would　have　to　do　it　alone。　She　obviously　couldn't　confide　in　Gromph；　and　insolent　Quenthel　claimed　she　had　to　attend　to　the　security　of　Tier　Breche　before　she　could　focus　on　anynotthing　else。
Triel　gave　her　head　a　shake；　trying　to　dislodge　her　doubts　and　worries。
〃Let　them　down。〃
Jeggred　obeyed；　and　she　turned　to　the　secretary。
〃When　you　get　a　chance；〃　she　said；　raising　her　voice　over　the　choking　gasps　of　the　two　cousins；　〃have　somebody　haul　them　out　to　Arach…Tinilith　to　be　patched　back　together；　and　have　someone　wash　away　the　blood。　But　for　now；　we'd　best　get　moving。　I　think　we're　late。〃
The　trio　moved　on。　A　final　turn　brought　them　to　the　door。　Behind　it　was　the　dais　overlooking　the　largest　audience　chamber　in　House　Baenre。　A　pair　of　sentries　guarded　the　entry　to　ensure　that　no　one　would　sneak　through　to　stab　the　matron　mother　in　the　back。　They　snapped　to　attention　when　they　saw　her　ing。
Triel　swept　on　through　the　entry　with　Jeggred　and　the　clerk　in　tow。　The　hall　on　the　other　side　glowed　with　soft　magical　light　to　facilitate　the　exnotamination　of　documents。　A　sweet　perfume　scented　the　air；　and　a　fresco　of　Lolth　adorned　the　ceiling。　The　guards　along　the　walls…dark　elves　near　the　dais；　ogre　and　minotaur　slaves　farther　down…saluted；　while　the　supplinotcants　and　petitioners　made　the　obeisance　proper　to　their　stations；　anything　from　a　dignified　inclination　of　the　head　and　spreading　of　the　hands　to　an　abject　grovel　flat　on　the　floor。
Looking　down　on　them　from　the　elevated　platform；　Triel　reflected　that　it　was　astonishing　just　how　many　such　folk　turned　up　each　and　every　tenday。　She'd　thought　people　were　always　demanding　her　attention　when　she　ruled　the　Academy；　but　she'd　had　no　conception　of　the　hordes　of　idiots　who　constantly　sought　Matron　Baenre's　ear；　often　to　resolve　trivial　if　not　nonsensical　concerns。
She　sat　down　on　her　mother's　throne；　an　empress's　ransom　in　gold　with　a　flaring　back　shaped　to　resemble　an　arc　of　spider　web。　Her　predecessor　had　been　a　relatively　large　female；　and　her　successor　always　felt　a　bit　childlike　and　lost　in　the　chair。　She　had　enough　of　a　sense　of　irony　to　prehend　the　accidental　symbolism。
She　surveyed　the　waiting　throng　and　discovered　Faeryl　Zauvirr　at　the　very　front　with　some　long；　bulky　rolled　papers　tucked　under　her　arm。　The　matron　mother　smiled；　for　at　least　she　knew　how　to　deal　with　this　one　particular　petitioner。　For　a　blessed　change；　Waerva；　one　of　the　lesser　fenotmales　of　her　House；　had　made　herself　useful。　She'd　e　up　with　some　significant　information　and　a　sensible　idea　of　what　to　do　about　it。
Triel　decided　she　might　as　well　start　out　feeling　dominant　and　shrewd。　Perhaps　it　would　set　the　tone　for　the　rest　of　the　session。　She　waited　for　the　herald　to　conclude　the　ceremonials　and　the　crowd　t