Condemnation by Richard Baker

interest, she realized that she was dreadfully hungry. They’d eaten a thin breakfast before sunrise from the few supplies they’d brought from Ched Nasad, but Halisstra was certain that the day was drawing down. Drow could stand privation better than most, but hard combat followed by hours of vigilance had left her physically exhausted.
    I’m starving, she flashed at Ryld. Things seem quiet. I’m going to slip back to the camp and break out some stores. Stay alert.
    The weapons master nodded, and whispered, “Hurry back.”
    Halisstra rose and wrapped her piwafwi close around her. The hall was still and dark, as it had been for hours. She stole quietly back to the chamber where the others waited for Pharaun to ready his spells, using all the stealth she could muster. She could hear soft voices ahead, Quenthel and Danifae conversing quietly in the ruined gallery.
    A dark shadow flitted across Halisstra’s heart. When she thought about it, there were few things she wished Danifae and Quenthel to speak about.
    I should not have left them alone, she chided herself. I let Quenthel order me about like a male!
    Deliberately, she crept closer, a silent shadow in the darkness. She could see Pharaun sitting wrapped in a blanket, deep in Reverie as he leaned against the wall, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. Quenthel and Danifae sat close together, turned a little away from the wizard, which brought them close to the passage in which Halisstra stood.
    “What do you think you will do when we return to Menzoberranzan, girl? Do you think some high station awaits your mistress there?” Quenthel said, her whispers scornful and acidic.
    “I do not know, Mistress,” Danifae said after a long time. “I have not thought that far ahead.”
    “Orcswill. You have been thinking hard from the moment I laid eyes on you in the audience hall of House Melarn. In fact, I’ll even hazard a guess as to what must occupy your thoughts. You are wondering how you can bring about your return to House Yauntyrr in Eryndlyn, with Halisstra Melarn as your battle captive.”
    “I dare not entertain such a thought—”
    Quenthel laughed cruelly and said, “Save your innocent protests for someone more gullible, girl. You still have not answered my question. Why should I take you and your mistress back to Menzoberranzan?”
    “It would be my hope,” Danifae said in a faltering voice, “that I might have an opportunity to demonstrate my usefulness to you, so that you might choose to give me the opportunity to serve.”
    “I see you do not presume to answer for your mistress this time,” Quenthel snorted. “So I should reward your faithless insolence by shielding you in House Baenre, when I know that you are nothing more than an opportunistic viper who will abandon her mistress as soon as the mood strikes her?”
    “You misjudge me,” Danifae said. “The tradition of adopting the best and most useful nobles of a defeated house is a way of life among our people. My mistress and I—”
    The vipers of Quenthel’s whip hissed and cracked close by Danifae’s face, silencing her.
    “I think,” said Quenthel, “that I misjudge nothing at all. You are a simpering fawn of a girl who lacked the strength to keep herself from being taken as another’s slave. You are nothing more than a useless ornament to me—or you are a very patient and very clever little sycophant, in which case bringing you into my home is not very useful, either.” She sat back, sneering at Danifae. “Perhaps I should simply advise Halisstra of this conversation. I doubt your mistress would be pleased to know how much you presume in her behalf. It is most unbecoming in a handmaiden, after all.”
    “It is your prerogative, Mistress,” Danifae said, bowing her head. “You may do as you please with me. I can only place myself at your convenience.” She looked up again from her submissive pose, and licked her lips. “In captivity I have come to understand something of the nature