down the corridor； covering ground rapidly denotspite her short stride。 Eight feet tall； his two goat like legs more nimble even than most drow's； Jeggred had no difficulty keeping up with his mother。 The scurrying； frazzled drow secretary； though； looked as if she was in imminent danger of dropping her armload of parchment。 When Triel heard voices conversing a few yards ahead； she wanted to move faster still。 Only a sense that a female in her august position ought not to promise her dignity by running held the impulse in check。
〃I think it's a test；〃 said one soft female voice。
〃I worry it's a sign of disfavor；〃 answered the other； a hair deeper and a bit nasal。 〃Perhaps we've done something to offend…〃
Triel and her panions rounded a corner。 There before them loitered a pair of her cousins。 Their mouths fell open when they saw her。
Triel looked up at her son's face； which； with its slightly elongated muzzle； mouthful of long； pointed fangs； slanted eyes； and pointed ears； seemed a blend of drow and wolf。 That wordless glance sufficed to convey her will。
Jeggred pounced； his long； coarse mane streaming out behind him。 With each of his huge； clawed fighting hands； he grabbed a cousin by the throat and hoisted her up against the calcite wall。 His two smaller； drow…like hands flexed as if they too wished to get in on the violence。
Perhaps they did。
Triel had conceived a child in a ritual coupling with the glabrezu demon Belshazu。 The result was Jeggred； a half…fiend known as a draegloth； a prenotcious gift of the Spider Queen。 His mother was quite prepared to believe that cruelty and bloodlust burned in every mote and particle of his being。 Only his reflexive subservience； tendered not because Triel had borne him but because she was first among the priestesses of Lolth； kept him from immediately slaughtering his prisoners； or； indeed； pretty much anyone else with whom he came in contact。
Occasionally Triel's lack of height was an advantage。 It didn't feel awknotward or claustrophobic to step inside the circle of Jeggred's two longer arms and stand before the cousins。 Up close； she could smell the sweat of their fear just as easily as she could hear the little choking sounds they were making or the thuds as their heels bumped against the carved surface behind them。
〃I forbade you to speak of the situation in public；〃 she snarled。
The cousin on the left started making more noise； a tortured gargling。 Perhaps she was trying to say that she and the other one had been alone。
〃This is a public part of the castle；〃 Triel said。 〃Anyone； any male might have e along and overheard you。〃 She swung her whip of fangs； aiming low to ensure she didn't accidennottally lash Jeggred's hands or arms。 The five writhing adders gashed their targets but not enough to satisfy their mistress。 She struck again and again。 Her anger rose and rose until it became a kind of rapture； a sweet simnotplicity in which nothing existed but the cousins' thrashing； the smell and feel of their blood spattering her face； and the pleasant exertion of 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 Bae