Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 28

The Gordian knot

Xan turned the trinket in his palm by the window, watching as the early morning sunlight caught on gold. It was such a small thing, for something that cost him that much coin. And yet, he knew he would feel better knowing that the magic imbued within would be put to good use. Some trepidation flitted through him at the thought, a boyish uncertainty he hadn't felt in many decades. Before he changed his mind, he placed the trinket in a velvet pouch before tucking it into his overcoat.

Kivan was watching him when he turned to face the door, his stance tense. Well, he was usually tightly coiled like a hunting predator, but he seemed even more so since entering the city.

"Ready?" he asked.

In his usual practiced manner, Xan schooled his features into civility. A tenuous truce was in place between them after their argument in Cloakwood, but he was by no means happy with his kin. Regardless of what Elene thought of him, he would reserve judgment until he saw how Kivan reacted at the mention of Tazok the next time around.

Instead, he nodded and gestured for Kivan to lead the way.

After three days in Baldur's Gate, they'd finally managed to secure time with Commander Scar of the Flaming Fist that morning. He was an important man, second only to Duke Eltan in their ranks. That fact alone was enough to make Xan wonder why he wanted to see their group at all.

I wonder what Sorrel put in his report to headquarters.

The others were already gathered in a private meeting room that Jaheira had rented for their use. His eyes caught Elene first when he reached the threshold of the room, and she graced him with a warm smile as he entered. He found himself returning the smile almost by reflex, then nodded at Jaheira, Khalid and Imoen in greeting. Imoen gave him an odd once-over and glanced at Elene but passed no remark. Instead, she continued to pensively twirl a small wand that Elene had purchased for her across her fingers.

As he took a seat at the table, he began to notice the dark circles under Elene's eyes. She, Imoen and Kivan had gone to meet Imoen's 'friends' the night before and had not returned until the twilight hours. He was growing concerned about her relentless pace. While she had told him that she couldn't remember what came over her in Davaeorn's lair, she'd come out of that pit with an almost unhealthy drive to pursue the Iron Throne.

"Was it worse than at the bandit camp?" he asked Elene as they sat cross-legged under the stars at the druid grove. They would depart for the Friendly Arm the next morning, but for the time being, they revelled in the moment of quiet after their harrowing escape from the mines.

Elene gave him a pained look. "I wish I knew. All I remember was that something was wrong with that place."

"Wrong how?"

"Intoxicating." Her gaze fell. "Evil."

For a long moment, he watched her. It didn't seem like she was lying, but he had a sense that she wasn't giving him the full picture either. He supposed he would have to wait for the missing piece to be explained when she was ready. Pushing never got Jaheira very far with her, he noticed.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't have used your ability in that place," he told her.

She glanced at him askew, annoyance flashing in those green eyes. "And let him finish you? Over my dead body."

A thrill went through him at the vehemence in her tone and expression, and he suddenly felt unable to answer. She looked away with a slight frown, seeming to take his silence for disapproval. While a part of him did disapprove of her logic, her visceral reaction showed that she cared enough for him that she'd put herself at risk for his sake.

And he found that he could not argue with her on that, because he knew he would have done the same if he had been in her shoes.

"How did it go with your contact last night?" Jaheira addressed Imoen.

"He gave me a bag of pearls for the lookout job. It was okay, I guess," she shrugged.

Elene tried and failed to smother her smile. "What she meant to say is, he was good for his word. Narlen's crew haven't tried their luck at the Iron Throne headquarter yet, but they do know there are guards on patrol inside and out. There are two entrances, one from the front and another in the back. We greased his palms to find out how best to tackle entry into the building. On top of that, he gave us a name, a man called Husam. This fellow has some dirt on the Iron Throne, he frequents one of the dives near the Splurging Sturgeon if we want to find him."

"A drunkard?" Xan wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Worth a try," said Elene. "We didn't think much of Ender Sai then, yet here we are."

He had to admit, she had a point.

"Are these men…affiliated with anyone, do you know?" asked Jaheira.

"Can't really tell, but Coran said Narlen's part of a local thieves' guild. Makes sense since he kept talking about targets an' such," Imoen replied.

Xan felt annoyed with himself, wishing he could have found out more over the past few days. Unfortunately, the old Greycloak contact he kept here was long dead, a human who maintained an apothecary to the east of the city. They'd been neglecting the network in human cities for too long, he realised.

It was decided that they would seek out Husam and see what he had to offer. After that, the party had a quick huddle to agree on how best to engage with Scar before setting off to the Flaming Fist Compound on the other side of the city.

Fortunately, the rain had decided to take a break that day, so their walk through the city streets was pleasant. Shops and street vendors had already begun to trade even that early in the morning, and the hustle and bustle would pick up as the hours moved close to Highsun. It wasn't Xan's first time to the Gate, so none of it was new to him, but he found himself amused watching the sheltered former residents of Candlekeep nudge at each other as they took in the sights and sounds.

One thing he had to say about the Flaming Fist, though. They didn't bother with pretences. As they approached the compound, everything about the place screamed military barracks. From the high, impregnable stone walls to the bland architecture to the Fist insignia at every vantage point. This was the home of the city's military might.

As instructed by Scar's messenger, they entered the compound through a side entrance, taking great care to slip in unnoticed. Inside, they were received by the same messenger, and made to wait in a spartan anteroom with a Flaming Fist shield mounted on the wall on top of criss-crossing swords. Xan scanned the area, wondering at the amount of sneaking around needed just to see the commander.

"Enter."

A crisp voice resounded from beyond the large double doors leading to Scar's office. An assistant scurried over to usher them to those doors, then promptly left them to their business.

There was no doubt in Xan's mind that the man leaning over the oaken table in the room was Commander Scar. It wasn't just that his armour was more impressive than that of other Fists, or the rank markings on said armour. What confirmed it was the impressive scar that spanned from the bridge of his nose all the way to his ear across his left cheek, the remnant of a wound inflicted by a blade.

"So, we finally meet." Scar was a broad figure, with dark hair and piercing grey eyes. Not the tallest of men, perhaps, but his presence towered in the room regardless. "I'm Scar, second-in-command of the Flaming Fist. I was made to understand that you are the group that routed the bandit camp with some of my men. Officer Sorrel wrote a thorough report on what happened, you have my thanks for aiding his contingent. If you would give me the pleasure of putting faces to the names?"

Jaheira went through a stiff round of introductions. When mentioning Elene's name, Xan observed his reaction. There was none. It seemed that Kivan's investigation was thorough, there were indeed no bounties out for her in the city.

Once formalities were done with, Scar settled himself on his chair but did not invite them to sit. A reminder to them that despite his initial warmth, they were there at his leisure, and for business.

"Well, I have to say you've made quite the commotion up here in Baldur's Gate. But your arrival heralds opportunity for me. I can't really put my finger on a single source, but there have been many strange happenings going on within the city. It's been getting harder and harder for me to put trust in someone. I need capable outsiders to do some investigations, people with no connections to anyone within the city." He made a steeple with his hands and leaned forward. "Would you be interested in working for me in such a capacity?"

"That depends. What is it that you need from us?" asked Jaheira.

"Very well then. What I'm about to tell you must be held in the strictest of confidence, do you understand?" He levelled a cool gaze on each of them in turn. "I need you to begin an investigation on the Seven Suns trading coster. Their leadership have been acting strangely of late. They've been selling off valuable assets and neglecting many of their more profitable trading ventures. Considering the importance that the trading coster holds over the economy of the city, the Grand Dukes are noticeably upset."

"Have you spoken to the coster's members?" asked Khalid.

"I've gone to talk to the coster's head, Jhasso. He told me to mind my own business." Scar sighed, shaking his head. "I've known Jhasso for many years, and I can tell you this isn't his usual behaviour. I can't start up an official investigation, as there is no real reason for doing so, that's why I need you."

"What manner of trading coster are they? Do they accept independent members?" Xan wanted to know.

Scar gave him a pacifying smile. "You're out of luck. The Seven Suns are an almost exclusively human group. Walking through the front door seeking to join may not work for your group, no offense."

"None taken. Then we must find out how best to access the coster without raising suspicion or having us linked back to you," said Xan. "Are the other trading houses in the city showing signs of the same problem?"

"Not that I know of yet," replied Scar. "But trade has been slow in months, I cannot tell if the iron crisis and bandit problems were masking real issues happening among the merchant circles. The only organisation doing well of late has been the Iron Throne."

Jaheira's lips thinned at that. "We are willing to work for you on the matter of the Seven Suns. But we do have our own terms."

"And so we come to that. Would gold suffice? I offer 1,000 gold for satisfactory answers, and 2,000 gold if you solve the problem outright."

Xan managed to keep his expression unchanged, but he saw a few eyebrows shoot up at his offer. It was a handsome offer by any measure. Then again, they had been paid handsomely for their part in the bandit rout as well. It could just be that the Fists were terrific paymasters.

"Agreeable." Jaheira gave a curt nod. "But we also would like for you to start a formal investigation into the Iron Throne in this city. We have reason to believe they are connected to the iron crisis and the bandit problem both."

Scar stared at her. "Those are strong aspersions. I will need more than your word for it to start an investigation."

Jaheira nodded to Elene, who deposited a scroll case onto Scar's desk. "Here are the letters we've found in Nashkel, the Wood of Sharp Teeth and Cloakwood Mines. You may read them at your leisure and think on them. When we return with your answers, we can take it further, if you think we have enough to go on."

Scar huffed a short laugh. "Well, you certainly are an interesting bunch. Very well, I will have a look. Come see me when you get to the bottom of the problem at the Seven Suns and we can discuss this other matter in more detail."

They saw themselves out, leaving the way they entered. By then it was close to lunch, so they opted to stop over at a nearby tavern rather than return to the Elfsong. Flashing coin to the innkeeper netted them a private room to have their meal in. Conversation revolved around banal matters like directions and supplies for a bit until the food arrived and their server closed the door behind him.

Xan promptly cast a warding cantrip. They didn't want to be eavesdropped on for the next part.

Jaheira nodded in approval as she settled back in her seat. "Our contacts in the city have raised this issue on the Seven Suns as well. The leaders there, Jhasso and Maireen, have been more closed off than usual, rarely seen in the public eye now. But no one can pinpoint the cause for the sudden change."

"How do we get close without drawing suspicion?" asked Kivan.

"Usually? Do so in plain sight," Xan replied.

"We gotta be like merchants, maybe. Or know some really important ones," said Imoen, then her smile brightened. "Someone like Aldeth Sashenstar, say?"

"Yes, he did ask us to look him up when we are in the city." Jaheira's gaze took on a predatory edge. "If we could approach the Seven Suns under the cover of the Merchant League, it would certainly give us an advantage."

"Good thing the League is just down this road," remarked Elene as she nudged at a potato.

Xan's eyes flicked over the offending tuber on her plate, noting that she still made more effort rearranging her food than actually eating it.

"Perhaps we need to think of our approach. It would raise eyebrows, a group of armed mercenaries showing up on Aldeth's doorstep in the middle of the day," said Khalid, as he cast a nervous glance about the table.

"Maybe we could set something up through Coran?" offered Imoen, raising her fork in the air.

Jaheira took a deep breath, as though bracing herself. "Much as it pains me to admit, that would be the less conspicuous route."

"Aw c'mon, he's not that bad!"

"Sometimes he can be," Xan muttered under his breath.

Elene's amused gaze flickered to him briefly. He responded with a half-smile. At least she seemed to share some of his sentiment on that. Then Imoen spotted their exchange, and she gave him the same odd look she'd been sending over the past few days.

Before he could wonder about it, Jaheira started laying out their next steps in her usual clinical fashion. As was usual, it was between him and the druid doing the strategising, with the others chipping in. And yet, he noticed that Jaheira began asking for certain inputs from Elene, especially her reading of the situation. There seemed to be a slight shift in Jaheira's approach to Elene since Cloakwood, a sign of increasing trust in her ward's competence.

Elene in turn seemed comfortable sharing insights from her previous studies in Candlekeep, pointing out that established merchant guilds such as the ones they were dealing with were passed down through family lines, so would need to be cracked through an insider or not at all. Aldeth would be instrumental not only as a way in, but also, he could support them as a key witness to bring Scar into the fold if they played their cards right.

She's come a long way indeed.

His feelings on that matter have been…somewhat conflicted. The part of him that served as a tutor in the magic academy swelled with pride knowing that she had grown so much and so quickly under his tutelage. Not merely in magic, but also in thinking, observing, planning, adapting. She had taken his teachings, and that of the others', and somehow combined them to suit her own unique way of doing things. It was hard to see her as a mere girl now, knowing how dangerous she really was under that placid, smiling veneer.

But now that he considered her a capable, principled woman in her own right…he began seeing something there worth cherishing. Something beautiful in this realm which should be preserved. Before him was someone who would do her absolute best with the hand she had been dealt, no matter how bad the hand was, rather than make excuses out of it. At times that trait of hers humbled him, a seasoned Greycloak who had long given up on trying to cheat fate.

The situation threw his entire logic system into a loop. For one thing, he'd thought himself beyond such sentimental notions after dedicating his life to protect Evereska. And secondly, how does one hope to preserve someone whose default path throws her into danger at every step?

He knew he was walking on dangerous ground. There were many reasons why romantic entanglements on the job were severely frowned upon among the Greycloaks. Chief among them was that such entanglements had a tendency of shortening lifespans on the field.

And yet, around her, he found himself thinking about life beyond the field. Of life beyond duty.

Such improbable thoughts needled at him into the night, even as he left the Elfsong common room with their delinquent kin. For that night, only Jaheira, Elene and himself were to meet Aldeth with Coran to avoid undue attention. He studied Coran in the flickering light of torches as they made their way to the Sashenstar manor. Well, he had had improved his measure by warning them about Imoen's escapade the other night. He didn't have to, but he did. Perhaps the man had some redeemable features, after all.

"I don't know how I let you lot talk me into this," sighed Coran.

He led them through the winding streets from the merchant quarters to the noble quarters to the west. As they walked, the scenery changed as buildings became grander, gardens and yards grew larger and Flaming Fist presence became more noticeable.

Finally, Coran came to a stop in front a sprawling white and burgundy manor, with windows covered in tasteful dark wood shutters and a dark shingled roof. Xan caught sight of the coat of arm emblazoned by the side of the front door and recognised it as the same symbol outside the lodge in Cloakwood where they had met Aldeth. It seemed that they had arrived.

"Right, we're here." Coran tugged at his collar. "But I was told not to go in through the front. Off to the servants' entrance we go."

A servant let them in, a bright-cheeked young woman who seemed especially pleased to see Coran. In fact, she seemed disappointed that he was only there to see 'Master' Aldeth. As she led them to Aldeth's study, she and Coran engaged in the type of awkward small talk that could only be the result of some past tangle that she remembered fondly, whereas he had difficulty putting two and two together after the act.

Aldeth was already waiting for them as they entered, his profile illuminated by the crackling flames from the fireplace. Slumped as he was in an overstuffed chair, it reminded Xan of the first time they met in Cloakwood, except this time the noble had a tall glass of wine to keep him company in misery. His reddish, blotched face gave a good indication of how much alcohol he'd imbued before their arrival. It wasn't even past eighth bell yet.

"Ah, hello Coran. I'd like to say I'm pleased to see you, but…" Aldeth stared into the bottom of his glass, "Truth be told I'm not pleased about a great many things."

Coran frowned at the sight of him, unnerved by his behaviour. "What's wrong, Aldeth?"

"What's not wrong?" Aldeth cried. "Everything is falling apart and Dabron is off gallivanting on some Gods-forsaken adventure instead of being here and helping me set things right!"

"Oh, come now. Must you be so dramatic?" tsked Coran with practiced familiarity, swiping the wine glass from Aldeth's hand and setting it down on a nearby table. "Settle down and tell us what's the matter. Look, I even brought our competent friends from Cloakwood. You remember Jaheira and the rest, don't you? We'll have this sorted out in no time."

Aldeth's bleary eyes focused on Jaheira for a moment, then he nodded with unexpected lucidity. "Yes. You saved me from the druids."

Jaheira nodded, although her stance was wary.

"Well, then." The nobleman sat up straighter in his seat, wiping at his face. Perhaps he was not as drunk as he initially seemed, Xan observed. "Maybe…maybe you can help with my problem. I've faced many a business crisis in my years, but this time, I feel it is going to take more than deft balancing of ledgers to fix things. Please, take a seat."

The four of them settled into the various seats in the room. Jaheira frowned as she glanced up at the mounted and stuffed animal heads on the walls, ranging from wolves to bears, trophies from past hunting trips. Fortunately, Aldeth didn't seem to notice.

"When I returned from Cloakwood, thanks to you by the way," Aldeth waved a hand at them, "I noticed a strange deal done while I was away, a mining right sold to the Iron Throne for a pittance. So, I called my partners for a chat, Zorl and Irlentree. Both clever, experienced chaps. Irlentree was just as surprised as I was, but Zorl said he would get to the bottom of it. Might have been a mistake, he said."

"Was it?" Xan asked.

"He said it was," Aldeth huffed. "But…something about him rubbed me the wrong way that day. So, I decided to confirm it myself." A scowl marred his otherwise handsome face. "It turned out that Zorl was the one who signed off on that deal."

Jaheira and Xan exchanged a look.

"If that wasn't enough, I noticed that he was behaving decidedly…un-Zorl-like. His mannerisms have been odd since I returned, but this particular bit really threw me off. Now the man is brilliant, I've worked with him for more than a decade. But he can't find his own backside in that mountain of paperwork in his office without his assistant cleaning up after him. And now…" Aldeth shook his head, "I found out he'd fired his assistant. But when I peeked in the other day, his table was spotless. Immaculate. Everything in order, just so." He shuddered. "It's like a different person."

"Have you shared this with anyone else?" asked Jaheira.

"What do I say? That I take issue with Zorl being organised for once in his life?" Aldeth snorted.

"What about Irlentree?" asked Coran.

"He said he'd try to speak with Zorl and try to figure out what's eating him. That was days ago. Then yesterday my bookkeeper dropped by to tell me that Irlentree is telling him to prepare paperwork for another insane business deal, this time with a company that I know is fronting for the Zhentarim." Aldeth reached for his wine glass and drained it, his hand shaking. "It's insanity, I tell you. The Irlentree I know would have never even considered such a thing!"

"Could they be impostors?" asked Elene, her voice quiet.

"I have a stone of magic detection in my office. Handy to catch the sneaky ones who try charm magic during negotiations." Elene glanced at Xan as Aldeth spoke, but he avoided reacting. "Those two haven't set it off so far. If they're impostors, they're not using magic. They look, sound and move like the men I knew. Yet at the same time, my gut tells me that they're not. I avoid being alone with either of them now."

Coran leaned back to stare at the nobleman. "Is that what you needed my help with? Find out what's wrong with your partners?"

"Yes. And quickly." Aldeth got to his feet and crossed the room to grab a letter from his desk. He passed it to Elene, who skimmed through the contents in silence. "This morning I received an invitation to a dinner party in two nights. Hosted by the Seven Suns. My partners have indicated that they would appreciate my company there to fashion an alliance of some sort with Jhasso's band and the Iron Throne." His expression darkened. "Yet every instinct I have is telling me not to go to this party."

There was no doubt in Xan's mind that the invitation was indeed some form of trap. Bad enough the troubled Seven Suns were hosting the event but throw the Iron Throne into the picture and he knew nothing good could come out of that meeting. Yet for how long could Aldeth continue to evade the circle of his peers without good reason?

"Or…you could go," Elene began, her eyes still on the invitation. "But bring a few guests with you in the interests of this 'alliance'."

Aldeth turned to look at her. "Meaning?"

"A wealthy potential partner perhaps?" Her lips quirked. "New to the city, eager to expand."

Xan felt the same smile spread on his own face, admiring once again how her mind worked. He had a good sense of where this was headed. "Yes, one keen to brush shoulders with the Merchant League and the Seven Suns, but not eligible to join either group."

"It could work," agreed Jaheira as she mulled it over.

"And let's not forget, you'll likely need new bodyguards, Aldeth. You lost quite a few good men in Cloakwood," Coran added with a guileless smile.

Frowning, Aldeth walked slowly to the fireplace and gazed into the flames, deep in thought. For the first time in their acquaintance, Xan thought he finally looked the part of a shrewd businessman running the largest merchant guild in the Gate. At length, he turned back to his guests and sketched a smooth bow.

"Then I suppose I will entrust my life in your hands once more. Let us get to the bottom of this together."