Chapter 17

The poisoned well

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Jaheira watched out of the corner of her eye as Elene pulled at her collar. A seagull squawked overhead, drawing the girl's gaze for a moment as it careened south towards the sea. Then sure enough, she began to slowly pick at her left gauntlet. The leather began to scuff as her agile fingers chipped away at a slight imperfection on the stitches.

"Is that necessary?" Jaheira hissed.

Elene's hand dropped. "Sorry."

A small huff escaped Kivan nearby. Coming from him, it almost sounded like a chuckle. Jaheira threw a dirty look over her shoulder. At least he found Elene's fidgeting amusing. For some reason, the girl was on edge this morning, waiting to bolt at the first sign of danger. And Kivan wasn't helping with the flinty looks he keeps throwing her way, his apprehension rolling off him in waves. She glared at the door before her. Tall, wide, oaken, and stubbornly closed. Never mind that they were a tad early for the meeting. Someone should be at the front entrance to greet them, at least.

In the momentary lull, she rubbed at the faded mark on her neck. The after-effects of the vampire bite had waned to nothing this morning thanks to that healer Anomen brought in. Good thing, as she had a feeling she needed to be in peak form today.

"You're sure this is the right place?" Elene ventured.

"Yes," Jaheira replied and left it at that.

Meronia's directions were clear. Find the marked manor on the second level of the Wave District, equidistant from the market stalls above and the rickety warehouses further down. There weren't many manors in the area, to be fair. Burnt orange paint coated the outer walls of their destination, with dark tinted windows concealing what lay within. Very different in design from Entillis Fulsom's base in Baldur's Gate. This safehouse didn't look all that different from one of Renal Bloodscalp's boltholes. Times have certainly changed.

Then the chimes of the temple of Gond reverberated in the distance. Nine bells. Their appointed hour was nigh. Jaheira glanced again at Elene and received a hopeful look in return. Despite her obvious anxiety, she went along willingly with the Harper proposal. These were her foster father's lifelong friends. They may not be willing to offer open-ended aid, but the worst they could expect was rejection.

And yet…Jaheira's fingers tightened around her staff. She didn't trust Galvarey. This entire set-up reeked of intrigue and subterfuge. They were being corralled into a ring of his choosing. But for what? What did he want with Elene of all people?

Not for the first time, she prayed that her suspicions were merely the product of paranoia.

"Someone's inside," Kivan muttered.

After a moment, Jaheira heard it too. A key sliding into the lock – one click, then two. The door swung open to reveal a grizzled halfling in dark leathers. Her eyes dropped to his harp-shaped cloak clasp which shone in the morning light. That was more than enough to confirm his affiliation.

"Those who harp are never alone," she greeted him.

He nodded. "Welcome, sister." Then he gave a pointed look at Kivan. "You were told to only bring Gorion's ward."

"He comes with me or there's no meeting," Elene replied in a tone that brooked no argument.

The Harper turned to Jaheira. She canted her head in challenge.

"Your call."

After a few seconds' deliberation, the man grunted. "Come inside."

He stepped aside for her to enter the manor. Once her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, she couldn't help but stare. Contrary to the façade, the interior was…luxurious didn't even begin to describe what she was witnessing. Pure marble flooring, high ceilings, gold-wrought lighting fixtures. The centrepiece of the foyer was a breath-taking statue of Mystra with rotating mage lights illuminating a circle in front of it. She'd never seen such opulence in a Harper headquarter before. Everything reeked of Galvarey's personal touch. The man always was more fixated by image than competence.

"Well," Elene breathed.

Jaheira scowled. "I see this chapter has done well for themselves," she remarked with more than a touch of sarcasm.

Their guide ignored her. Only beckoned for them to follow once he'd shut the door. He led them past the foyer, along an empty hall decorated with tasteful tapestries and miniature sculptures. If Imoen were here, they would probably have to leash her to keep her sticky fingers away from pocketable décor. Again, Jaheira's mind reeled at the luxury on display. Harper work, while rewarding in its own way, had never paid that well. Where was Galvarey getting the money to fund all this?

"If all else fails, we could just rob this place," Elene whispered.

"Very funny," Jaheira fired back through gritted teeth.

Finally, their guide stopped in front of a set of double doors made of rich mahogany. He knocked twice and waited. Jaheira rolled her shoulders in anticipation. No matter her dislike of Galvarey, they needed Harper assistance, and he was the lead in this city. She only needed to be civil to him long enough to get what they needed. The door opened a crack with a woman peering through the gap. Recognition flickered in her eyes as she studied Jaheira, and she wordlessly pulled the door all the way in to allow them entrance. Jaheira tried to quell her discomfort as she walked past the woman with Elene and Kivan in tow. She'd never seen her before. Then why did she react with such familiarity? Was she under watch the entire time she was in the city?

Taking in her surroundings, Jaheira's unease ratcheted up another notch. An enormous painting depicting the landscape of the city of Shadowdale adorned the far wall. Around it, mounted weapons and trinkets completed the set up. The floor here was marble like the foyer, with a long table set up in front of the painting, much like a grand audience chamber. Three men sat in a row facing them, two humans and an elf. Judging from their grim faces, she wondered if an interrogation chamber would be a more apt description.

The broad man in the middle stood as they approached, his arms spread wide in welcome. His smile, though, was colder than the nights in Midwinter. "Jaheira, my dear. It's been too long."

She came to a halt ten paces away from him, purposely blocking his direct view of Elene.

"Galvarey."

I wish I could say the same lingered at the tip of her tongue but somehow, she reined it in.

His smile wavered at her cool reply. "Charming, as always. Ah, and is this the famous Elene I've heard so much about? Such a lovely young lady now, no wonder Gorion kept you under lock and key for so long."

Turning her head slightly, Jaheira saw Elene try on a smile. A decent effort, given the circumstances.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," she said.

"And what delightful manners!" Galvarey clapped his hands in delight. "Come closer, come closer. We're all here for a friendly chat, no need to stand on ceremony. Please, take a seat. I'm sorry but we didn't prepare a seat for your friend back there."

Two plain wooden chairs were set up facing the long table. Again, reinforcing the perspective that this was an interrogation, not a meeting of friends. Anger simmered beneath her skin at this affront. She will have words with Meronia once this farce was done with. Elene's gaze flicked to Jaheira for guidance. Well, she wasn't about to disappoint. She stepped aside to allow direct line of sight between Elene and Galvarey but made no move for the proffered chairs.

"We will remain standing, if it's all the same," she told him.

A small crease wrinkled his brow. He eased back into his overly large chair. "Suit yourself."

"I've brought her here as you asked. Now what's this about?"

"I think you know she has been of interest to us for a long time." He turned his oily smile towards Elene. "Do you know why?"

The girl studied him. Wary. "Because of my heritage, I would imagine."

"You are astute. One of the prophesised children of Alaundo, here in the flesh. I hope you don't mind, I only seek to ask a few questions today, nothing too intrusive, I assure you. To gauge your…temperament, as it were."

Again, Jaheira's instincts screamed that something was wrong. She threw a surreptitious glance over her shoulder and noted the man and woman from earlier stationed at the doors. Kivan stood as still as a statue between them and Elene. His right hand, though, idly stroked the fletching sticking out of his quiver of arrows. From his stance, he could have one out and in someone's eye in the moment it took to sneeze. She turned her attention forward once more, gnawing worry festering like a cancerous parasite in her chest.

"I will answer your questions," said Elene.

Galvarey nodded. "A good start. Now, what do you remember of your years in Candlekeep, Elene?"

She cocked her head in confusion. "Candlekeep? Well, I remember the lessons. Chores. Visits to the temple with Gorion."

"What lessons were those?"

"History. Alchemy. Mechanics."

"Were you taught how to fight?"

She shifted. "Yes. Swordplay lessons."

"When did those start?"

"I was about ten, I think."

The man to Galvarey's right scribbled something onto the parchment before him even as his leader's eyes lit up with glee. "Interesting. So you were taught to kill from such a tender age?"

Elene blinked. "What? I was taught to defend myself…"

"By killing others," Galvarey cut her off. "Did Gorion teach you this himself or was there a tutor?"

"A…a tutor. Master Daric from Waterdeep."

"Hmm, good old Daric. Gorion's always did have a soft spot for that chap." Here, his smile turned ominous. "Did you know he turned out to be an agent of the crime lord Xanatar? A bit of a scandal when we found out recently. Tell me, what else did he teach you other than swordplay?"

Recovering from her initial surprise, Elene frowned back at him. "Nothing. Master Daric only taught sword forms and stances. And he stopped coming a year before I left Candlekeep."

"Of course, of course. But the scoundrel must have had some influence on your thinking, especially at such an impressionable age."

More scribbling from the long table. Suspicion coloured Elene's deepening frown.

"Now wait just a blasted moment…" Jaheira growled.

"Really, Jaheira." An edge had crept into Galvarey's tone. Gone was the genial façade of a comrade. He was showing his true colours at last. "We're having a civil conversation here. Do restrain yourself from interrupting. Elene, I understand you're also a practitioner of magic. Is there a particular school you're well-versed in?"

"Illusion," she answered, confident that he couldn't twist that answer to his own ends.

"Hmm. The fallback tool of deceivers."

Before Elene could protest, Jaheira stomped forward. "And the tool of entertainers and artists. Why do you bother with questioning when you're going to infuse the answer with your own meaning anyway? You are purposely twisting her words!"

He raised a hand. "I am merely rephrasing the words of the Keeper of the Tomes. He returned my letter yesterday, as it was. He was quite unequivocal in his views of your charge here. I take it you didn't have a good relationship with the Keeper?"

"No," Elene answered coldly.

"I see. A problem with authority then."

More scribbling.

Jaheira watched as Elene's hand twitched towards her hidden cachet of knives. From the way she stared down the long table, she was also estimating the distance for a decisive strike. The two at the door would be left to Kivan to handle. Dread welled in Jaheira's gut. And who could blame either of them, the way this meeting was going? Galvarey and his goons had long made up their minds about her. This entire endeavour was a joke, a farce.

"My final question: what do you think of your heritage?"

Elene lifted her chin. "I am what I am. What's there to think about?"

His nod was sage. "So…you embrace your dark birth right. With your upbringing and the tendencies you've shown, I suppose it comes as no surprise."

"Are we quite done here?" Jaheira stepped in with every intention of ending the meeting before violence erupted. "I was told aid would be forthcoming if I agreed to this. All I see here is a trumped-up tribunal with a foregone conclusion!"

"On the contrary, this chat has been most illuminating." He made a steeple with his hands. "If anything, all these years, the High Heralds were under the impression that Gorion's ward is of no threat or consequence. Nothing more than a harmless babe born with an unfortunate legacy. Today, I have seen enough to conclude that she is a danger to the Realms if left unchecked."

Jaheira felt the blood rush to her face. "What are you on about? Elene would never…"

"Never what? You are clouded by personal feelings. She may not think like us at all. Can you understand an illithid? Or a beholder? Think of the blood she spilt on the Sword Coast. She is akin to these. Remember your duty, Jaheira. We Harpers always serve the greater good."

"Excuse me but I'm still in the room. What do you intend?" Elene interjected.

The tremor in her voice was faint, but it was there. Jaheira turned to her charge. For one horrible, horrible moment, she saw distrust on Elene's face, directed at her. She raised a hand, her tone imploring. "Elene, this was…this is not my intent at all. I thought…"

"You thought you could vouch for her, and all that she was would be swept under the rug? My dear, your sentiments have gotten the better of you," Galvarey tsked with a condescending shake of his head. "You are a Harper, a druid. How can you allow her to walk around freely? Think of the effects on balance!"

Jaheira cracked her staff on the floor as she turned back to face him. "And what if she serves the balance? What if her intent is good?"

"It is simply not worth the risk. No, there is no choice in the matter. Elene, you are to be…confined."

"What does that mean?" Elene demanded.

He cannot possibly mean…

"No!" Jaheira shouted over her, frantic. "It is as good as death and you know it!"

He waved her off. "Come now, there's no need for such theatrics. Imprisonment is necessary to contain the chaos she might sow, wittingly or otherwise. A quick spell and she will find herself in a container a few leagues under the earth. Unharmed. Quite peaceful, humane even. Once she is deemed a non-threat, she may even be released. You know this is the best way, Jaheira."

Elene set her jaw, already tensing into a defensive stance. "You are welcome to try."

With a sigh, he rose from his seat. "Certainly you can fight, but there are six Harpers here to contend with. The odds are quite clearly…"

Lowering her tankard, Jaheira nudged Khalid. An elven man was weaving artfully past crowded tables, leading two timid girls to their secluded corner in the Friendly Arm Inn taproom. One of the girls looked in poor shape, with a bloodied tear in her sleeve and a burn mark on her gambeson. Tawny-haired, pale, lean. She invoked the memory of the letters Gorion used to send every summer. About an elf matching the same description, where he would uncharacteristically gush of his adopted child's shining intellect and thoughtfulness and how she could do such good in the Realms if she set her formidable mind to it.

Jaheira caught a hopeful glimmer when she finally locked eyes with the girl in question. It was the look of one who had just found shelter from a lifechanging storm.

"Nay, Galvarey." Jaheira spoke slowly. "There is but you and your four lackeys. I stand with Elene."

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the grateful look from Elene. It didn't warm her. Not even a little bit. In all the permutations she'd considered before coming here today, this was nowhere in her reckoning. That Galvarey would turn on them in such a manner, within these halls that should be protecting her and Elene both.

How far her people have fallen.

"You're making a mistake." He slammed a hand onto the table even as his lackeys reached for their weapons. "With her imprisonment I could get sponsored as Herald! But now you fight the Harpers with this monster!"

"You are no Harper!" Jaheira snarled.

The man taking notes throughout the interrogation began to chant. He'd barely gotten two syllables in before a knife lodged itself in his eye. Elene was already moving, unsheathing her sword as she closed in on the katana-wielding elf on Galvarey's other side. Behind them, a body fell to the ground as Kivan likewise got to work. There was no turning back then. A quick prayer breathed a spark of power that coated her skin with the hardness of a tree's bark. She can stand toe to toe with any creature, protected as she was by both metal and divine magic. Hefting her staff, she headed straight for Galvarey.

Gold and status afforded her foe with the best equipment. His metal armour gleamed in the warm lights, the greatsword in his hands shimmering with magic. That was fine. Her enchanted staff would be more than a match for his weapon.

"So you were aiming for Herald all along. You always did have more ambition than sense," she sneered.

He approached; his sword held ready in both hands for an arcing slash. She knew the stance well. "Herald requires the will to establish the position. The High Heralds will judge if it is deserved. And why wouldn't they support me? I've done well for the Harpers all these years."

As expected, he lunged forward with an aggressive slash. Easily deflected with her staff, strengthened by its own enchantment.

She scoffed. "If this gaudy base is what you think the Harpers are about, you're an even bigger dolt than I'd pegged you for."

With a snarl, he closed for another strike, then another. He was tall and broad even for a human. But having the right physique seldom substituted skill in combat. His tactic was painfully obvious, to get her on the back foot and defend. Overpower her with muscle and strength. She almost rolled her eyes. As if she'd never seen that move before. His next effort was parried just like the ones before it, except this time she seized the opportunity to step into his guard and crack him a nasty blow on the head. She watched with satisfaction as he reeled back with a shout. Pity she planned on taking him alive, otherwise she would have cracked his thick skull open, and the Realms would be a better place for it.

"Stand down and cease this foolishness, Galvarey. You will explain yourself to the High Heralds and clean up the mess you've wrought," Jaheira thundered.

Blood trickled from Galvarey's temple. Still, he spat at her feet in defiance. "Spare me the sermon. You wasted years doing pointless work for the likes of bleeding hearts like Gorion and Belgrade. All this while, I thought it was that weakling Khalid holding you back. But no, it's you. You're the one who's soft all along!"

"You dare!"

All thought of restraint fled her at the mention of her husband. This swine had the gall to insult Khalid. He dared. Her next swing was uncontrolled in her desperation to clock him upside the head again. For petty payback if nothing else. Too late, she noticed his smirk. He parried easily, shifting his feet to strike at her from another angle. The resulting screech of metal on metal made her grit her teeth as he made contact with her breastplate. No damage, but the blow did sting. She backpedalled and swerved left on instinct, narrowly sidestepping the next jab aimed for the gap in her side.

Much as she wished to end this fight bloodlessly, her haste had cost her advantage. He pushed her onto the backfoot and pressed on. Her own jab connected to no avail as his armour was of far better quality. Another flurry of moves and countermoves between them, and she spotted an opening as her eyes flicked downwards. In her attempt to kneecap him, though, he pivoted, taking one hand off his sword. The dagger came up from his belt much faster than anticipated and she willed her body to move before the blade could slash upward across her throat…

…Except an arrow flew in from the other side of the chamber and embedded itself into her opponent's skull with a resounding thunk. And just like that, the mighty preening Galvarey toppled sideways in a clatter of metal, sword and dagger falling from his nerveless fingers like so much dead weight. For a long moment, she could do nothing but gape at his corpse in growing horror. Then she whipped her head towards the source of the arrow.

"You…" she sputtered. "We were to take him alive!"

"You're welcome," Kivan grunted in disgust.

Jaheira saw red. Galvarey could have been browbeaten. Blackmailed into forgetting this nonsense about Elene being his ticket to Herald. In her rage, she took a determined step towards Kivan before she even realised what she was doing. His eyes narrowed as he observed her, his bow shifting aim ever so slowly. She didn't know what she would have done had she reached him, though, as Elene came to a skidding stop in front of her.

"Peace, Jaheira," she said, with hands held out to avert violence.

"Elene! We could have salvaged this! But this fool…"

Elene's expression looked pained even as she cut her off. "I don't know if I agree with that. But it doesn't matter, what's done is done. We need to…let's not lose our heads over this."

Scowling, Jaheira glanced over Elene's shoulder at her quarry. With the threat diminished, he slung his bow over a shoulder, cursing as he did. A dark patch bloomed near his hip. The halfling must have done a number on him before he fell near his feet. Jaheira let out a shaky breath, the sight of his wound deflating her anger as quickly as it had arisen. Elene looked ready to aid him, but he made a warding gesture with his free hand, reaching for a healing potion instead.

Elene squeezed Jaheira's arm before she made a beeline for Galvarey. Jaheira's gaze strayed across the chamber even as regret trickled through in slow, aching drips. Five bodies littered the floor, staining the pristine marble with pools of crimson.

How did it come to this?

What have I done?

"Will there be more of them?" Elene asked, stripping coin pouches and light valuables from the dead.

Jaheira swallowed, regaining her composure. "Possible. We need to leave immediately."

She didn't miss the dark look Kivan graced her as she spoke. His vitriol was unnecessary. Now that everything was sinking in, she was furious enough at herself for the both of them. They never should have come.

Like mice in the night, they fled the compound with careful urgency. They didn't slow their pace until they'd passed the entrance to the Wave District, and well into the Slums. Elene led them to a web of alleys safe from prying eyes. This conversation was not one Jaheira wanted to have in front of the likes of Yoshimo and Anomen. No, they cannot know what happened. The Harpers' reputation was at risk. As they took refuge in a particularly narrow alley, Jaheira wondered why that still mattered to her after today.

Then without warning, she found herself grabbed by the straps of her armour and slammed backward into the alley's wall. Her metal armour continued to reverberate seconds after impact, and the back of her head stung where it cracked against solid brick. None of that, though, was as troubling as Kivan's looming form in front of her, his face a snarling mask.

"I told you to find other means," he hissed.

"Kivan, stop!"

"Get…" Jaheira began.

Again, he pulled her by the front and slammed her back, harder this time. Whatever she wanted to say died in her throat as her teeth rattled. At least she'd had the presence of mind to watch her head this time.

"You knew something was wrong. And you still brought us there!" he thundered.

"Kivan, please…calm down…"

Elene's hands tugged uselessly at his arm, trying to pull him back even as she pleaded. Never mind that he was bigger and stronger than her by a league. The sight of her ward's futile effort stilled Jaheira's outrage at Kivan. Even after that distasteful interrogation, the betrayal of her own kin, Elene was coming to her rescue. She didn't deserve the girl's compassion.

Not after her severe lapse of judgment.

"I knew something was off," she admitted softly. "But I never imagined Galvarey would stoop so low."

"You said he was a fool," Kivan accused.

Jaheira nodded, all the fight evaporating from her as Elene turned to stare at her. "I did. And more fool was I for agreeing to bring Elene to him in the first place."

Kivan's gaze hardened, studying her for signs of deception. Sensing none, his grip on her front began to slacken. Elene saw her chance and wedged herself between them, pushing Kivan a distance away. But the blaze that drove him to act so aggressively had dimmed to a dull flame. He'd gazed into Jaheira's eyes and seen despair. A mortal wound had been struck to her will, and to the faith she'd always had in the Harpers.

Elene swallowed. "We live and we learn. I'm just glad we got out of there in one piece."

"It doesn't end here, you realise," Jaheira sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"No doubt Galvarey would have poisoned the upper rungs of the Athkathlan chapter to think he was in the right. That Gorion's Ward is a threat to the Realms and must be caged for her own benefit." Jaheira closed her eyes against the reality they faced. "And here we stand with Harper blood on our hands."

"They struck first," Kivan growled.

"It matters not. They will seek justice for what was done."

The bustle of the city continued in the background as the day ticked into Highsun. The three of them stood in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. Jaheira couldn't think of a solution then if she'd tried, her mind buried in angry recrimination, that she chose to proceed without listening to her gut instincts. Kivan looked slightly less angry, though even he seemed at a loss, stewing at the edge of their loose circle. Every curve of Elene's posture was filled with worry, but in the end, it was she who raised her head to speak first.

"We must leave the city now."

Kivan frowned at her. "Trademeet?"

"Yes." She paused, thinking. "We can stop by the de'Arnise Keep on the way if we leave right this moment. Goshan's wagon will take longer to arrive at Trademeet, since he's avoiding the main road. We will rendezvous with his crew there."

For some reason, Kivan cursed under his breath. He turned away with a troubled expression.

"So, we're running away? Do you know how this will look to my brethren?" Jaheira asked, incredulous.

A gusty sigh preceded Elene's reply. "I can imagine how it's going to look. But I'm not going to sit here and wait to be imprisoned by a bunch of zealots." She stopped herself. "Just…let's allow things to settle for a bit. We can come back and negotiate once things are calmer."

If they ever do.

Oh Khalid, how did things go so wrong?

"Elene…they will come after me first." Jaheira shook her head. "I don't know if I should be going with you."

Her ward grabbed her shoulder, the spark in her eye reminiscent of the possessed woman who hunted Sarevok in the Gate. "No. I'm not hearing it. You stood up for me back there. I'm doing the same for you. We stick together, alright?"

Jaheira didn't miss the undercurrent of desperation in the other woman's voice. Instead of pulling them out of the mess, their entreaty to the Harpers have submerged them deeper into the quagmire. If they were trapped before, they were absolutely cornered now. She glanced at Kivan, seeing her own thoughts mirrored there, though streaked with more than a hint of resentment. None of her observations would be helpful to voice for the moment. So, she chose to school her features into that mask of professionalism that made her such a good agent all these years.

"Lead on then."

Because she couldn't trust herself to do so anymore.

.

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Author's Note:

Self-indulgent moment – I absolutely loved writing this chapter. When I first encountered this quest in the game, it felt like the rug got pulled from under me, that Jaheira's people could turn on her in that manner. At worst I thought they'd want more money like the Shadow Thieves, you know?

But this is Athkatla, and the pursuit of power sometimes requires more than coin as currency.