Chapter 4
The lifeline
—
Elene watched as Yoshimo chatted with their contact as they walked, looking for all the world like two bosom friends heading to a tavern at dusk for a few jovial rounds of drinks. Maybe even a game of cards. Both men dressed in dark leathers, hooded besides, fitting in well with the hoodlums in the older section of the slums.
Scratch the surface though, and an observant eye will notice the tense set to Yoshimo's shoulders, the strain that filtered through when he held his smile a second too long. Then there was the constant movement of their contact's eyes, flickering from Yoshimo's face to his hands, sometimes angling his head slightly so he could catch Jaheira and Elene out of the corner of his eye. Gaelan Bayle, though he acted the part, was no fool. In the past, she'd made the mistake of accepting help at face value. She'd learned since then.
Her own hand never strayed far from her sword hilt, a clear sign she was feeling almost like her old self. Today was the first time she'd ventured out from the Copper Coronet since the day they arrived. For many days she'd lain idle in bed or sat in overwhelming despair, thinking only of the masked mage, imagined snippets of what he did to her colouring her nightmares.
Do you even know what you're capable of?
Oh, she knew. The blood she'd spilled in her journey from Candlekeep to Baldur's Gate had been a testament to her capabilities. Her tormentor had taken her deep-seated fear and brought it out into the open, laid it bare. And while her body weakened with every new torment he inflicted upon her, something dark and powerful within grew stronger with every horrific scenario he painted for her. Wounds that should have taken weeks to heal cleared up in a matter of days. Even now, the cut she'd suffered on her hand when they escaped the dungeons was but a faded mark even without Jaheira's healing.
At first, Jaheira had been accepting of her lethargy. Presumably, it was to give her space and time to heal. None knew the true extent of mental scars the mad mage had inflicted upon her in that cage. Though Jaheira admitted she had heard the screaming on some days. In truth, she didn't remember much beyond the cutting and burning. Too many hours slipped by in a state of funk, where she didn't know where her shackles ended, and where she began. Mostly, she didn't want to think about what could have been done to her while she was unaware.
Then two days ago, Jaheira had stormed into their room just before sunset and practically upended her from bed. Went off on a blistering tirade on responsibilities and vengeance, which shamed her, especially at the thought of Imoen shackled up in another dungeon elsewhere. After that, she began to exercise in their cramped room. Minor stretches, light calisthenics. Eventually, she stopped having food delivered to the room, instead joining Jaheira and Yoshimo in the common room for meals.
It was during dinner that Yoshimo appeared at their table, announcing that a man named Gaelan Bayle wanted to meet her.
"Meet us, you mean?" Elene had gestured with her fork, indicating all three of them. She noted Jaheira's wary gaze. She still didn't trust this man, and Elene could appreciate why. "Could you go speak with him first, ask what he wants?"
"Actually," Yoshimo replied slowly. "He clearly said he wanted to speak with you."
She'd thought back to their escapades in Baldur's Gate. Of her involvement with a Shadow Thief named Husam, who gave their group the means to launch a counterattack against Sarevok and the Iron Throne from the shadows. She wondered if Husam had something to do with Gaelan Bayle's peculiar interest in her specifically. Before she left the Gate, he'd offered her the prospect of long-term partnership, a life of hidden knives and subterfuge. Uncomfortable with the true nature of what he did for a living, she'd turned him down.
"What in the Realms for?" she asked, keeping her tone light.
"He said he knew how to find your friend."
That had settled it for her. Shady characters or no, she would pursue any avenue that brought her closer to Imoen. She would get her back no matter what.
"Coo! Just over here," Gaelan pointed towards a nondescript house with blue roofing tiles.
A quick glance at Jaheira confirmed that her wariness was shared. Although, they'd made it this far. She doubted Gaelan would lure them three blocks away just to kill them when an arrow in the streets would have finished the job more efficiently. There was no hesitation in her steps as she followed Gaelan into the house. Judging from the sparse interior and faint dusting of cobwebs around the lounge, she guessed that it was not a place to be lived in. A rendezvous point, or a safe house at best. The whole set-up screamed 'Shadow Thieves' to her.
"Come come, do make yourself at home," Gaelan gushed, ushering them to the overstuffed chairs opposite the seat he'd chosen for himself. "Would you like something to drink?"
Elene and Yoshimo settled into the couch, both scanning the area for hidden bodyguards or traps. So far, it seemed that Gaelan was on his own. Jaheira chose to remain on her feet, crossing her arms as she glared at the man.
"We'd prefer for you to get to the point," she replied tartly.
Since Jaheira was dispensing with the niceties, Elene felt more comfortable doing the same. "What's this about Imoen? You said you have information on her."
"Aye, that we do. Terrible thing, what happened to her, she seems like such a nice girl." Gaelan nodded sagely. "I happen to work for a group of powerful people who may be able to offer you something. They know where she's been taken. What's more, they know how to get her out of there, to boot."
Elene leaned forward, eyes wide. "You know how to get her back? Then what are we waiting for?"
"Elene," Jaheira said, the warning clear in her tone.
Too late, she felt a trap shut as Gaelan's smile widened. "Of course they do. And they'd be more than happy to help."
"What's their price?" Yoshimo cut in.
"It's not going be easy, getting her away from the Cowled Ones. For that sort of work, we'd be looking at oh say…" Gaelan made a grand show of rubbing his chin, pretending to think hard on his next words, "20,000 gold."
For a long moment, the room became so silent you could hear a pin drop. Gaelan, the smarmy bastard, alternated his amused gaze between Elene and Jaheira, gauging their reactions. He clearly knew the decision lay with one of them, and not Yoshimo. Turning her head, Elene saw Jaheira's mouth set in a thin line. Though she fought to keep her own features neutral, she couldn't quite suppress the incredulity in her voice when she spoke next.
"I'm sorry. For a moment there I thought you said twenty thousand gold."
Gaelan's smile was sharp, the eyes above it almost reptilian.
"You're joking." She told him flatly. "Do I look like I have that kind of money?"
"Not yet maybe." That smile of his twitched for an instant, as if in amusement. "But an intelligent woman such as yourself can surely find ways to make up that gap. I understand you managed some pretty impressive feats up North. Terror of the Sword Coast, some called you."
It was hard to not grit her teeth at that awful moniker. Though she had shed plenty of blood in taking down her half-brother Sarevok, she'd taken no pleasure in it. And she certainly didn't like the idea of the title haunting her all the way to Amn.
"It's a lot to ask, given I don't even know who's getting the money," she protested.
"Worry not, love, my employers are good for it. They will deliver on the offer once you deliver the coin. Such is the way of things here."
Jaheira's eyes narrowed. "What if we don't need your help? We only need to know where she is."
An image flashed through Elene's mind. That of a mage in a worn leather mask. Elene swallowed. Though she wanted to save Imoen, she didn't want to face him again. Maybe…maybe the Cowled Wizards locked him away somewhere deep, where he can't get at her or anyone else ever again. They wouldn't keep Imoen and that monster in the same cage, that wouldn't make sense. She could get Imoen out and never have to face him again. Or so she tried to comfort herself.
"Even if you know where she is, you won't be able to get there without going through the right channels." Gaelan gave her a careless wave. "By all means, you're free to try your luck elsewhere, we certainly won't hinder you. But trust me when I saw that my employers are your best bet to get to Imoen."
The more Gaelan said, the more suffocated Elene felt. As if the walls of the place were beginning to close in on her, as she realised that she had very little say in this discussion. This was not a fair bargain by any means.
"How am I expected to raise such coin?" she managed to force out.
Gaelan shrugged. "Plenty of ways. You seem to be the discreet type. Renal Bloodscalp over at the Docks is looking out for capable hands to solve a problem of his. He's a hard man to please, but a good paymaster. Do a good job for him and you may be seeing Imoen sooner than you expect." Then he shot a sidelong look at Yoshimo. "Either way, your man here needs to pay his dues to the Bloodscalp. You're operating in his turf."
"But of course," Yoshimo canted his head.
"My boy Brus can get you some dirt if you need, on jobs that need doing. The garrison puts out bounties, so do the Cowled Ones." Then Gaelan favoured Elene with an appraising look. "Though uh, you may want to be careful presenting yourself to that lot, since you're the magic-using type."
"Thanks for the tip," Elene replied drily, upset that he knew so much about her while she still groped in the dark.
"So, what say you? Can I tell my employers you're up for it?"
She dropped her gaze momentarily, contemplating her situation. At the last coin-counting, they'd barely had a thousand gold to their name. The mere act of living in the city would draw on the same coin as well. She didn't doubt that she could make up the difference eventually, except it pained her to think of how long that would take, while Imoen languished in some Gods-forsaken prison on her own.
But then what choice did they have?
"Very well," she said at last.
"Coo! Music to my ears," grinned Gaelan.
"Although…" Elene continued. "If someone else comes to me with a better offer, I will take it."
Gaelan spread his hands pacifyingly. "And as I said, you're going to be hard-pressed to find someone else who can offer the same. If you ever need a fence, my mate Arledrian runs a shop down the street. He'll give you a good price, I swear it."
"We'll believe it when we see it," muttered Jaheira.
Elene stood. "How do we get in touch with you?"
"Just drop a message in the keyhole outside. I'll come a-running," Gaelan grinned at her.
Deal done, they didn't linger in his company. The streets were empty by the time they retraced their steps to the Copper Coronet. Vaguely, she heard Jaheira and Yoshimo speaking in general terms about potential places to look for paying work. She couldn't find it in heart to join the discussion. Anger bubbled in her chest, anger at her own helplessness, at being cornered into being a cash cow to be milked by hoodlums like Gaelan Bayle. It was ten times worse than being wounded in battle, because in battle at least she could retaliate. Here, she could do nothing but offer meek acceptance. She'd never felt like hitting something quite as badly as she did then.
"What's this about Renal Bloodscalp?" Jaheira rounded on Yoshimo once they were far enough.
"I, ah…" Yoshimo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Given my profession, I'm deemed a freelancer in this city. I need to declare myself to the Bloodscalp and assure him I don't intend to offer up…competition."
"Who is he?" asked Elene.
"The chapter head of the Shadow Thieves in the docks. He runs the street operations."
"Isn't there a guild war going on? Surely he has more things to worry about than a freelancer," Jaheira replied.
"I dare not guess at such a man's thought processes, my dear druid," Yoshimo said, with a tinge of nervousness. "Better for me to err on the safe side, hmm? In fact, the sooner, the better."
Jaheira glanced at him. "You wish to head there now?"
"Well, I don't need to see him personally. Just bid a friendly hello to his enforcers."
"If you're heading that way, we may as well come with you. There may be another lead to look into."
Elene stepped aside and paused. "You two go on ahead."
This earned her a frown from Jaheira. "Child, this is not the time to be idle…"
"Believe me, I know. I just need…" she swallowed. "I just need time to think this through."
Jaheira watched her for a moment, her eyes sharp and all-seeing. It was a conscious effort on Elene's part to resist flinching away from her scrutiny. Whatever it was in her face was good enough for Jaheira to relent in the end.
"Fine. But we head out for the real work first thing tomorrow."
"Yes. For Imoen."
With that, Jaheira and Yoshimo proceeded north to cross the river and head to the Docks District of Athkatla, while Elene veered back to the Copper Coronet. It was fortunately a short walk from Gaelan's place – she could feel eyes on her as she walked, a lone woman on the streets close to sunset. No doubt she must appear to be easy pickings for the muggers in the slums. She had to admit, without the use of magic, she was nowhere as confident at being able to beat back assailants as she used to be. Even if she could cast magic, she didn't even have a spellbook to her name. One of the many things lost in that dark pit they emerged from.
In the end, she made it back to the inn without incident. Though on arrival, her stomach announced its displeasure with a loud growl. With the excitement of meeting Yoshimo's contact, she'd barely eaten lunch, tying herself into knots thinking about the possibilities and risks of the meeting. Appetite or not, she'd have to feed herself if she was to be in fighting shape to raise 20,000 gold.
She chose a table in the corner, positioned herself so that her back was to the wall, a trick she'd learned from Kivan many moons ago. She sat back once the tavern server took her dinner order, a simple meal to distract herself with. The atmosphere in the Coronet was more boisterous than usual, the crowds packing in today for some reason. Peering at the other end of the common room, more people were being admitted into the side door which led to the back rooms, some dressed to the nines. Perhaps Lehtinan, the Coronet's owner, was running a private event. It's certainly whipped up a lot of interest in the clientele today. Most of them had already started drinking voraciously, and it was only past fifth bell.
The next hour trickled by slowly, the minutes feeling like grains of sand slipping through an hourglass. Despite her original intent, she spent most of the time pushing tubers around in her plate rather than eating it. If Imoen were here, she would have ordered a spread fit for a king, with dessert lined up besides. Hot shame flashed through her, at the memory of Imoen's wide eyes before she was taken away. She'd been helpless to help her friend then, and she remained just as helpless now. The blood of a God flowing through her veins, and still she only had the power to wallow in misery instead of being able to overturn their sorry predicament.
As the self-loathing seethed in her chest, she downed the last of her drink. Only to grimace as the contents of the tankard swirled in her mouth. If there was any lingering doubt that the Coronet was a dive, the chalky dregs that ended up in her mouth all but dispelled it. It made her think of the Red Sheaf Inn in Beregost, a place just as rough and cheap. There must be a place like this in every town and city in the Realms. As she irritably poked a lone tuber about her plate once again, a shadow fell over her.
Three men loomed behind her. Disheveled, unwashed, down on their luck. And somehow, despite the watered-down swill served in this establishment, they seemed piss drunk. The smell of cheap ale wafted off them in waves, causing her to wrinkle her nose. None of this was helpful for her rising temper.
"Lookit, lads. An elf," the lead man leered, just as he plopped himself into the seat next to her. "Pretty thing, ain't she?"
"Aye, and all alone," said another.
"Pretty elf all alone!" echoed the last man, his tone an inane singsong.
Elene took a calming breath. "Can I help you?"
"That you can," the lead man nodded sagely. "Looking for a bit of company after a rough day."
"There's plenty of company to be had elsewhere," she replied, jerking her chin to the bar, where a handful of women were enjoying their drinks.
The man leaned closer. "Oh, come now. You don't like Amalas? I can show you a good time."
He was a head taller than her. Human, broad, strong. Unarmoured, but with a scimitar strapped to his belt. Though he had a physical advantage over her, his reaction time would be impaired, judging from his slurred speech. She considered the options available to her, then recalled sound advice from Kivan. That some beasts, especially those who hunt in packs, could only be turned away by a show of strength. A violent deterrent. The thought of it appealed very much to her, as she wallowed in her foul mood. It would be child's play for her to deal with him, although then she would have his friends to reckon with. As a faint buzzing energy began to build within, she wondered what the policy was around here about maiming fellow patrons.
"Are you bothering the lady?"
In her distracted state, she didn't notice the newcomer until he was right next to her. Looking up, she caught the stormy blue eyes of another human man, this one looking far more presentable than the hounds harassing her. Garbed in thick chain mail and armed with a sword, handsome with a trim beard. He even smelled faintly of soap, a rarity in this neck of the woods. For some reason, he reminded her of Ajantis, a paladin she once worked with in the Wood of Sharp Teeth. Not just in appearance and the symbol of Helm he wore, but also by the fact that he couldn't help but ride to her rescue.
Amalas squinted up at him. "What's it to you, Helmite? Thought you'd gone off to the back rooms by now. I know you holy man types." He spat, gimlet eyes glinting. "All high and mighty in the day, but just as filthy as the rest of us at night."
From the narrowing of the other man's eyes and Amalas' widening smirk, Elene knew the situation was about to degenerate. Amalas and his friends were just itching for a fight. And this stranger was about to walk right into it. Her blood sang at the prospect of violence, like reuniting with a dear old friend. Before the newcomer could open his mouth to bite off a rebuttal, she whipped out her smallest knife and drove it into the table. Right through Amalas' resting hand.
At first, he could only stare at his impaled hand. It had happened so quickly his brain was still processing the damage. Even the stranger blinked at the suddenness of it. Then she pulled out a second, longer knife and pressed it into Amalas's thigh under the table, her simmering anger buzzing just beneath her skin. Like heat slowly cracking through paint.
"I appreciate the company, sir. But if you would like to walk away with your valuable bits intact, may I suggest you leave us be," she said, her voice low and calm.
Amalas gasped, then his head bobbed desperately in acquiescence. She could almost taste his fear.
She glanced at his friends. "Are we going to have trouble?"
"N-no, ma'am," the nearest one replied, his eyes flicking between her and Amalas' bloody appendage.
"Thank you."
Without warning, she yanked her knife from the table, releasing Amalas. He stumbled off the chair with a pained cry, blood oozing from the hole in his hand. She sat in silence with a weapon in both hands, eyes never leaving him until he scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. His friends went with him, tails between their legs. Her gaze then flickered to the adjacent tables and noted that the other patrons were watching the drama with mild interest. This must be a normal occurrence around here. She did note their newfound wariness as they observed her. Good. Let it be clear that she was no wilting wallflower among this crowd.
Threat dealt with, she raised her head to look at her would-be rescuer. He was openly staring at her.
"I…barely saw you move."
She began wiping down her bloodied knife with a table napkin, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What had gotten into her? "I uh…appreciate the gesture nonetheless, sir."
For a long while, he remained on his feet. Hesitating, as she could feel the uncertainty rolling off him, like he didn't quite know what to make of her. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I joined you, my lady?"
He seemed pleasant enough. Maybe he could take her mind off her current worries, at least.
"Please," she nodded to the seat opposite.
The chair creaked as he sat, the pounds of steel he wore straining the old wood. He beckoned for a server and put in an order for wine. A more refined palate than the usual clientele. He seemed like he had the gold to spare besides.
"I am Anomen Delryn, from the Order of the Most Radiant of Heart."
She nodded as she wiped at the small patch of blood on the table, the name of his order ringing a faint bell. A force of law and order in the region. Knights of Helm, Torm and Tyr made up the numbers of the Order, and they were often deployed as vanguards for key military campaigns. Hard to imagine that had the war ignited between Amn and Baldur's Gate, men like Anomen would be carrying the banners at the front of the army.
"Pleasure to meet you. My name is Elene," she replied in turn.
His lips twitched. "Not the kind of manners I am used to around these parts. Certainly not after that display. What brings someone like you to this cesspool?"
"A lack of choice, I'm afraid," she answered frankly. "And you? What brings a knight here?"
"I am not a knight. Not yet, at any rate. I was hoping that an excursion to such a black pit would offer opportunity for noble deeds." He looked around, his features darkening. "Though it appears I have my work cut out for me."
She shrugged. "It's a seedy tavern, like any other."
"Were that it was so simple."
"What do you mean?"
His eyes flicked to hers. "The Coronet isn't just an inn and tavern, not from the rumours I've heard."
Curiosity piqued, she leaned closer. "What kind of rumours?"
Huffing, he jerked a thumb towards a door not far from the grills. As far as she knew, it merely led to some back rooms. Yoshimo said they were to cater to guests who valued their privacy, as not everyone was allowed near those doors. Of course, he also mentioned the less than savoury activities the people around here liked to partake in, like lotus and underground gambling.
"Something foul is happening beyond those doors," he said under his breath. "I've heard whispers of prostitution and animal fights."
She almost wanted to point out that Lehtinan, entrepreneurial scum that he was, likely had the prerequisite permits for whatever nonsense he was running behind closed doors. Then she decided her blithe observation may not be appreciated by her companion. Surreptitiously, she glanced about the room, scanning the other patrons. "Are you part of an Order raid?"
"Er, well, no. Nothing quite like that," he admitted, suddenly sheepish.
She cocked her head at him. "Then what are you hoping to achieve here?"
"I don't know," he sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat. "Investigate the truth of the matter, at least. Weed out criminals for the guard to deal with. Though from my attempts, it has been a mountain to climb without allies to take the fight to these scoundrels."
Taking in his earnest face, Elene considered his words. She recognised his burning need to right wrongs. Once upon a time, she'd shared the same sentiment, a desire to balance the scales. Now, though, she put aside her ideals and thought of Imoen, alone and bound in a cage somewhere.
In his words, she sensed opportunity. Surely an illegal den of criminal activity held plenty of spoils for the taking. She glanced at the door guards, cataloguing their armour and weapons. At the very least, she could salvage new equipment from the guards, something she could take to the markets to sell for more gold. Mayhap there would be an official reward for busting a vice ring. It could be that this was a sign, her first step towards getting the gold needed for Imoen's rescue. And who knows…with his sword and shield, maybe this Anomen could be of help in the long run as well.
"What a coincidence," she said with a small smile. "I happen to be on the lookout for allies, too."