Poisonous Plots

A battered Xull’rae was forced to kneel and a booted foot kicked her back and stayed there.  The red head did not struggle.  Her once beautiful face was beaten almost beyond recognition. The amber eyes that were once full of fire were now swollen and listless.  Her proud posture no sagged in defeat.

“You failed me,” Laele’s tone was harsher than usual, “look at you, you are pathetic,” she said in disgust.

Xull’rae took the verbal abuse with silent numbness.  

“How dare you fuck up that alliance? I told you to seduce the little dick, and what do you do, you kill him.  How hard is it to bat your eyes and show a little skin!? Now I have to work harder to get their interest,” Laele began pacing; a sign that she was livid but uncertain of the punishment.

“At least they did not trace his death back to us and that is why you will sit shackled in a cell instead of bound to the altar,” conceded Laele. “Furthermore, you have lost your favor and are stripped of your clerical vestments.  You are now a slave to house Zauviir...Faeryl shall replace your status as heir.”

Faeryl looked surprised and immediately stood up but soon realized her joy was obvious so composed herself and walked to stand beside her mother at a stately pace. “You heard the Matron Mother,” Faeryl announced regally, “take the street rat away to rot like the garbage she is!”

The guards grabbed Xull’rae roughly and the red head was dragged away without a fight.

* * * * *

Bound to the wall, Xull’rae was naked and spread-eagled in shackles of hold person and anti-magic when the clinking of heavy booted feet and armor came from the dark corridor beyond.  The prisoner didn’t bother to lift her dirty head as the light bathing her chamber pained her eyes.  She flinched when the door to her tiny cell screeched open, the noise in such silence was excruciating to her highly sensitive hearing.

“By unholy Lolth, look at you…” said a horrified voice, and then it turned sharp and commanding, “leave us. I will take care of the prisoner from now on. Tell the Matron if you wish, silence will let you live longer.”

That tone, the voice, it sounded familiar to Xull’rae…it sounded like…Lesaonar.

When the figure approached after dousing the lights and touched her, Xull’rae knew it was him and cowered in shame.

“They haven’t even fed you,” Lesaonar muttered in anger.  “Mother deserves to be here, but I guess the poison in her will give a slow, painful death.  The clerics can’t heal it, or are refusing to and Faeryl is acing like she’s Matron.”

Xull’rae refused the spoonful of food he offered her.  “I’m here to make sure you stay alive and recover…Faeryl cannot be matron, you cannot be killed…it cannot end like this, over a stupid alliance,” Lesaonar pleaded.

“Please eat Xull’rae, please?” Lesaonar tried again but Xull’rae was adamant.

The drow weaponmaster sighed and provided a chamber pot before he left.

Day after day she refused food, only taking in little water.  Days turned into weeks and the weeks went by and suddenly Lesaonar stopped coming.  No one came by then.

Xull’rae had lost all track of time and just as dehydration began to set in Lesaonar came for a visit.  She drank thirstily as he brought the cup to her cracked lips.

“Sorry I have not come,” he said. “Laele is dead and Faeryl has the seat of power.  Valas and her have begun feuding so I was able to get away to come here.  She has ordered your demise so I will remain her to protect you and drive others away until my dying breath.”

“H-hungry,” Xull’rae croaked.

Lesaonar looked startled that she spoke and clumsily but enthusiastically retrieved some food.

* * * * *

“I want my foolish brother dragged from the dungeon and brought before me at once,” Faeryl roared.

Valas just laughed and sat in her throne with legs kicked up. “Let him rot in there, Xull’rae is likely dead. Leave him to his sentimentality.”

“You, shut up,” Faeryl warned, “or you’ll end up dead like mother.”

“Oh so you admit it,” Valas snickered. “Good to know…”

“Go kill the ugly urchin,” ordered Faeryl. “I must dispatch any sisters who didn’t run.

“What do I get out of killing Xull’rae? She’s more talented than you, smarter, wiser, come to think of it she’s prettier than you too,” Valas grinned wickedly.

Faeryl rounded on him, but Valas merely smiled more viciously as her eyes bore into him. “Go ahead,” he challenged her. “Mother couldn’t finish me either.  Let’s get this straight right now, if I kill Xull’rae for you, you must be a figurehead only. I’ll run things behind the scenes while you sit and do what it is you clerics do best, pray I don’t torture you like my other pets and toys.  You know what I can do Faeryl…think… can you stop me like Mother could?”

Faeryl glared hatefully at her older sibling and snarled. “Fine, but you have to kill her and bring back proof.”

“Of course,” Valas said snootily and began heading off toward the dungeon.

“Not so fast! You must bring back proof of Lesaonar and dispose of him too”

That stopped Valas.

As she watched her brother stiffen, Faeryl delighted in telling him her reason. “Oh yes, your precious brother must die for his treason in disobeying my direct order.  He should have stayed away from the discolored mutant.  How fitting that it will be you, his protective older brother who spills his blood and brings me his head. Don’t you agree?”

“I do,” Valas said slowly.  “Anything else?”

“If you really want to run things and have me as your public figure then you should have no problems bowing and being submissive to me in front of everyone,” Faeryl did not bother to hide her triumphant grin as Valas turned to regard her with such unchecked rage.

“Do we have a deal or not? A truce is better than making these complicated between us,” Faeryl suggested.

Valas said nothing and stalked down the stairs.

An hour later he returned bruised and baring minor injuries while Faeryl sat on the throne throwing a lavish party with hundreds of guests.  Valas put on his best meek face, lowered his head, and almost crawled to the throne bearing a basket.  There he touched his head to the floor and stiffly waited to be acknowledged.

Faeryl basked at his attention to detail and sat there for awhile watching him.  Finally when people began to look her way, she finally asked him, “What is this, another gift?” Speak male your filthy presence irritates me, be quick.”

Valas never looked up; instead he kept his head turned to the floor as he outstretched his arms and offered the basket. “A gift for the most honorable matron, Faeryl Zauviir.  This lowly servant has obeyed his matron most loyally and was ordered to deliver a token of gratitude. May the great Mother find it worthy…”

Faeryl ordered another servant to fetch it, but did not dismiss Valas.  She found his prostrate position too sweet to throw away so quickly.  Taking her eyes off him for but a moment, she opened the basket. A wide smile bloomed on her face as she removed the heads of Lesaonar and Xull’rae and held them high for all to see.

She stood up and slowly paced the edge of the dais, the music stopped and Faeryl’s voice boomed in elated triumph. “The dire threat has ended and I am victorious! I am the matron supreme.  May Lolth find favor in this house once more!”

The crowd cheered, all but Valas, who merely smiled…

* * * *

“Get up, it’s time for an appearance!” Valas grumbled, rushing her to get ready as he literally dragged her out of the bed.

Faeryl protested weakly.  How many months had it been since she became matron? She couldn’t remember but as time went by Faeryl noticed changes in her body.  At first she thought it had been her menstrual cycle, as the symptoms were not extreme, but now it was an effort to do anything.

She was always so exhausted, like something was sucking the energy right out of her. Sometimes it was so bad that she could not eat or drink without becoming violently sick.  Days like today where she was most haggard, face paint was applied to hide her sunken eyes and gaunt skin.

“Who is it? Tell them to come back tomorrow,” Faeryl mumbled into her pillow.

“Someone very important, who won’t wait to be seen,” Valas said irritably as he dragged her by the foot.  “Now hurry with breakfast, we—”

Faeryl dry heaved at the mention of food, lurched to her feet, and stumbled her way to the chamber pot to relieve her stomach.

Sometime later Faeryl came out decked in full finery and ascended to her throne gracefully, but the only one present in the large council room was Valas.

“Where is the important client you were babbling about earlier?” she asked in indignation.

“Still here,” Valas replied calmly.

Too calm, Faeryl thought suspiciously.

“What is going on?” she demanded.

“Your fall from grace,” Valas responded with a cold smile.

“Answer me you cretin,” Faeryl shouted and quickly came down the stairs to go after him, only to be met by her other sisters.

“You thought you ran us out, but it was all part of our plan,” they mocked her, ominously surrounding her.

“What plan?” fearfully Faeryl scurried away and nearly tripped as she backed into the stairs.

“The plan to uncover your treachery,” Lesaonar whispered loudly in her ear, right beside her.

Faeryl jumped and scrambled up the dais quickly, but almost lost her balance as she faced Xull’rae standing before the throne.

“You thought you could use the alliance to depose me.  I gave you want you wanted, is it all you had hoped for?”

“How are you here?” fear settled in Faeryl’s eyes, “You are dead…I saw your head and his!” she said in shocked disbelief, staring accusingly at Lesaonar.

“Weeell I wasn’t sure it would work, but mother said you wouldn’t check for magic being used and she was right,” Valas gave a dark chuckle.

“Impossible!” raged Faeryl.  She shoved past Xull’rae and pushed the button under the throne to reveal a hidden compartment and retrieved the basket, opened it, and promptly dropped it, turning sickly gray as she back down the dais and fell halfway down. The heads that rolled out were those guards assigned to Xull’rae’s cell.

Faeryl law sprawled at jeweled feet.  “I-I don’t understand,” her voice quivered.  Looking up she came face to face with Laele.

“It’s simple daughter,” Laele smiled but there was no warmth in it. “Shall I explain?”

Faeryl lowered her head in shame, knowing death was near.

“You see, Xull’rae brought me truth of your plans to overthrow me, and so I devised a ruse to bring you out in the open.  I allowed my favored daughter to take the blame for your assassination of the Vokar boy so that she would be out of the way and safely guarded by Lesaonar so if any further acts of treason would be committed, she and the rest of your siblings would be free of all blame.  I made safe havens for the rest of my daughters to flee to while Valas served as the distraction.”

“But the poison you took,” Faeryl sobbed in protest, “I tested it, it worked!

“Oh it did indeed but Ginifae slightly altered it after your test.  You see I had her perform a ritual using the poison, that whoever used it in small amounts to become immune would be soul-bound to the person they tried to give lethal doses to.  I have been draining your life force since the day you gave me the deadly drink.”

Faeryl sobbed, but what dripped were not tears of salt water, but bright red blood. “I am to die a slow death.”

“I suppose so if you consider a life filled with sickness, pain. Until I die, neither can you…as it were the parasite has overtaken the host.  For you there is no next time, for you there is no forgiveness…there is only me, you are merely food…”

Faeryl let out let out a bloodcurdling scream as she realized the rest of her days would be spent in agonizing torment. She was immortal, unable to die until she who held her life force was extinguished as well.  Always tired, forever nauseous, living not undead, but joy was lost as of this moment…. Gone, never to return, as long as her heart pumped.