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"We
must move quickly," Matron SiNafay went on.
"Within ten
cycles of Narbondel, the first strike must fall! The full battle will
begin soon after, before House Do'Urden can link its loss to our
wrongdoing."
"What is to
be their sudden loss?" Masoj prompted, thinking, hoping, he had already
guessed the answer.
His mother's
words were like sweet music to his ears. "Drizzt Do'Urden," she purred,
"the favored son. Kill him."
Masoj rested
back and clasped his slender fingers behind his head, considering the
command.
"You will
not fail me," SiNafay warned.
"I will
not," Masoj assured her. "Drizzt, though young, is already a powerful
foe. His brother, a former master of Melee-Magthere, is never far from
his side." He looked up at his matron mother, his eyes gleaming. "May I
kill the brother, too?"
"Be
cautious, my son," SiNafay replied. "Drizzt Do'Urden is your target.
Concentrate your efforts toward his death."
"As you
command," Masoj replied, bowing low.
SiNafay
liked the way her young son heeded to her desires without question. She
started out of the room, confident in Masoj's ability to perform the
task.
"If Dinin
Do'urden somehow gets in the way," she said, turning back to throw Masoj
a gift for his obedience, "you may kill him, too."
Masoj's
expression revealed too much eagerness for the second task.
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