Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 33
The pursuit
Jaheira pulled the curtain aside, her keen eyes surveying what lay beyond her window. The first light breaking through before sunrise cast an orange hue to the nearby buildings and the small handful of people already walking the streets so early in the morning. Such was life in a big city, she supposed. No matter the time of day, there would always be someone out and about.
Turning away from the window, she glanced at Khalid's sleeping form. Thankfully, he had made almost full recovery from the fight with the Iron Throne lackeys. In the privacy of the room, she took a moment to admire his profile, marvel at his quiet strength. There was no question that he had carried them in the fight when the opponents' spells had disabled her midway through the fracas and the rogue had cut Xan down soon after. Had he not zipped off with his magic boots to hold off the warrior on the other side, the man would have had free rein on the rest of them.
She stopped herself from thinking deeper on the matter. No sense lingering on what-ifs when there was work to be done.
Gathering her resolve, she left their room and strode down the hallway. It was quiet, barely any noise filtering in from the common room. She stopped a few doors down from her own room, pausing for a few breaths before raising her hand to knock. To her surprise, the door opened before she could do much else.
Kivan stared back at her from the other side, expressionless. Elven hearing, she reminded herself.
"How is he?" she asked, entering when he stepped aside.
Then she halted when she saw Elene in the room, perched in a chair by Xan's bed. The girl glanced over with a wan smile, her eyes still reddish but no longer bloodshot. The bruising on her throat had faded to yellow from the angry purple it was the day before. Jaheira almost wanted to think that her charge was on the mend, but Elene had a haggard look that hinted she hadn't slept much.
"Did you rest at all?" she asked without missing a beat.
Elene turned back to Xan, her smile fading. "A little."
Her voice still came out as a rasp. More work needed on that then. Despite much prompting and prodding, Elene never came out and told anyone what happened in her fight with Zhalimar. Only that it had been a very close call.
Another brush with death for one so young.
Taking a deep breath, Jaheira switched her focus to Xan. Thinking of Elene made her wonder why she was sitting by his bedside to begin with, and she was in no mood to speculate on such things. From the look of him, he'd just awoken from sleep, which in itself was a sign of how weakened he was. The chest wound he'd taken had been serious, worsened by the fact that the blade had been poisoned with something rare and deadly. Some form of nightshade extract based on the Ilmatari priest's guess. Had they not taken him to the Temple of Ilmater immediately, he would not have survived that night. Something she would never admit aloud to the others.
"Come to spend more effort on this lost cause?" Xan asked with a wry smile.
Jaheira shook her head even as she recalled the last time he'd said the same thing, bare hours after his release from Nashkel Mines. It felt like a year and an age ago. So many things had changed since, it felt like that snippet of conversation had happened between two different people.
She perched on the bed as she checked Xan's bandages and vitals. At least he was no longer warm to the touch, so the fever had broken. Good indicator that his system had purged the last of the toxins. With luck and a bit more healing, he would be back on his feet by breakfast. Full recovery would take another day, which exceeded her own expectation.
By the time Jaheira and Kivan had brought Xan back from the temple last evening, Khalid and the girls had already pieced together the information they 'liberated' from the Iron Throne. A clear picture was coming together at last. Their next task would be to confirm that Rieltar was indeed meeting with the Knights of the Shield and for what purpose. The spectre of war cast a pall over her thoughts. She hoped the writings were mere ravings of a madman and not actually part of the Throne's plan.
But first, they would have to see Duke Eltan. Scar's superior and one of the Grand Dukes of the city.
"Looks like you're almost back to full health. You should be able to join us on tasks today, provided you take rests in between." Jaheira paused, studying her ward. "How about your hand, Elene? Can you flex your fingers?"
Elene's eyes flicked to the thick bandages over her left hand. "Swelling has receded. Feels better."
"Then I shall check again tonight. Since you're already up, you can join me for breakfast. We will be heading to the Flaming Fist Headquarters on the eighth bell," said Jaheira as she got to her feet.
"Not hungry yet. Maybe later," Elene replied without looking at her.
Xan's gaze lingered on Elene for a moment before he said, "I will join later as well."
Jaheira took a deep breath, thinking. Then she glanced at Kivan. "Coming?"
The elf shrugged, then put on his knife belt. Together, they descended the stairs to the common room and chose a corner table for privacy. Not that they really needed to, the place was sparsely patronised in the morning.
For a long while, they sat in silence, eating their morning fare of porridge and soup and bread in peace. Tense moments were had between the two companions while at the Temple of Ilmater, with Jaheira barking instructions at him while he snapped back at being addressed in such a manner. Yet in the end, they had banded together and learned to cooperate for Xan's sake. A good outcome out of an otherwise bad situation.
When he was done with his meal, Kivan wiped at his mouth and tossed the napkin on the table. "Ask."
Jaheira quirked a wry smile. "Have I become that predictable?"
He watched her, unmoving.
"When did she show up?" she asked with a sigh.
"Middle of the night," he replied simply.
Jaheira frowned, not entirely surprised by his admission. "Did she sleep or reverie at all?"
"Didn't seem like it."
"Did you ask her what happened? With the man she fought?"
"No," he shook his head. "She'll tell us when she's ready."
A pointed look was her reflex response. "Is that before or after she keels over from fatigue?"
"Leave it, Jaheira. Some things you can't browbeat into submission," he replied with a cool look, his tone gruff.
Oh, I beg to differ.
Somehow, she managed to avoid voicing out her last thought. No matter her opinion on Kivan, he knew Elene well, better than even she did. From the very beginning, those two had formed a kinship which only strengthened the longer they travelled together, despite their stark differences. If he advised her to hold off, then she would heed it. For now.
"Point taken," she said instead.
Kivan left soon after, for a walk, he said. That left her alone with her thoughts for a spell before Khalid joined her at the table. They spent some time going through the day's plans, including updates on how Xan and Elene were doing. Then Imoen showed up and ordered her usual over-the-top spread, much to Khalid's amusement. The girl was just halfway through her meal when Xan and Elene finally appeared at the threshold of the common room.
Jaheira's brows furrowed slightly at their proximity. She shot a suspicious glance at Imoen. Sensing her burning gaze, Imoen resolutely avoided eye contact, digging into her omelette with more gusto than was necessary.
There is definitely something going on here.
"How are you feeling?" Khalid peered at Xan as he took his seat.
"Like death warmed over," he answered, deadpan as ever. He'd regained a bit more colouring but the dark circles under his eyes remained. "But I'm sure you can see that."
"The lethargy will pass. Some outside air will do you good," said Jaheira.
"So long as it's not downwind of the markets," Xan muttered.
Once Kivan returned, the party left for the Flaming Fist compound after the eighth bell according to plan. Although it was supposed to be a quick meeting with Duke Eltan, they set off armed as though heading into battle. After all, their strike against the Iron Throne did not go unnoticed. Retaliation could come their way at any time, and they had to be wary.
Unlike their last meetings with Scar, they were ushered deeper into the compound when they arrived, their guide a Fist named Fergus instead of the usual harried messenger who ferried them notes from Scar. Fergus was a cheerful chap who apparently had already spoken with Khalid the day before, chattering away to him about a ring he fancied for his lady love as they ascended the steps leading to Duke Eltan's office. It was a steep climb up a few floors, but the trek didn't even make the Fist quicken his breath despite the heavy armour he was wearing.
When they arrived at the top of the stairs, Fergus gave them a jaunty salute and went on his merry way. Scar was already wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing at the foyer before the Duke's office. To say he didn't look happy was an understatement.
"There you are," he said, frowning. "When I said investigate, I didn't give you free rein to tear up the building and everyone alive in it. Half the city was in an uproar when the news broke yesterday, especially after what happened with the Seven Suns."
Jaheira stood her ground. "We had no choice. Those men caught us by surprise. If we left empty-handed, the defences would have been fortified after, making our work that much harder later." She tilted her head, deciding to push her luck. "Besides, they were hardly upstanding citizens. From what we gathered, they've murdered your Duke's Chief Negotiator."
"So your report said. If I hadn't seen those creatures' carcasses just days ago, I wouldn't have believed a word of it," Scar replied.
"Is the Duke…upset with us?" Imoen ventured.
Before Scar could answer, the door to Duke Eltan's office was pushed open, a page standing at the threshold. The young man bowed and beckoned for them to enter.
Scar set his jaw. "Well, you're about to find out."
Eltan's office was practically half a floor on its own, the insignia of the Flaming Fists draped on red cloth all over the room. Practically an audience chamber, in truth. Suits or armour, weapons, military paraphernalia dotted the place, encapsulating the type of man Duke Eltan was. He had been appointed as Grand Duke on the back of a gruelling naval campaign against marauders off the Sea of Swords, after all.
The man himself sat at his desk, a broad teak table which looked like it had been there for a century. His salt and pepper hair was cropped short, and stubble lined his cheeks and chin. A military man just like Scar. Even so, his green eyes gleamed with quiet intellect, a strategist in his domain.
Scar saluted his superior, then strode over to stand by Eltan's right shoulder. Jaheira and the rest of the party remained standing. The whole setting was more reminiscent of an interrogation rather than an informal meet.
"Glad you came on time. Mercenaries tend to play fast and loose with such things more times than I can count," he said in a benign tone. "Scar has already briefed me on who you are and what you've been asked to do. I trust I do not need to introduce myself and we can get straight to business this morning."
Jaheira ducked her head, appreciative of his directness. "As you please, my lord."
"First, allow me to express my gratitude for getting to the bottom of the mess with the Seven Suns and the Merchant League. Both Aldeth and Jhasso owe their lives to you. Scar tells me that our men have cleaned up the last of the shapeshifting vermin and the two guilds can start their recovery. Is that right?"
"All accurate, sir," Scar nodded.
"Well and good." Eltan leaned forward. "Your good deeds, however, do not excuse what you did two nights ago. You were told to investigate, and in this city, that meant doing so without bloodshed. Imagine my surprise when the report came in of seven dead bodies turning up in the Iron Throne building."
"We did not kill seven…" Jaheira began.
Eltan's hand went up, forestalling her. "Believe me, if I genuinely thought you had a hand in killing Emissary Tar, we'd be having this conversation in the dungeons and not in my office. She was a key asset to the Grand Dukes. Her loss is a blow to our efforts to secure much needed supplies for the rising tensions with Amn."
"The letters you collected spoke of another Throne representative who was supposed to be part of the 'negotiations' with Tar," said Scar. "A gentleman named Lyle Espejo. Odd thing. When we questioned other Throne members, they've never heard of the man. Not from the Gate roster, nor from Sembia. It's like he never existed."
"Or he existed for the sole purpose of the meeting with Tar," Eltan concluded. "Much like several of the people present at the Seven Suns 'party' you attended."
"You believe our report then," Xan observed in a quiet tone.
"I believe in the authenticity of the letters you sent over, at least. There is something rotten that group is planning, and I want to know what it is. All of it." His statement was emphasised with the rap of steel on wood as he slammed a gauntleted hand onto his desk. "I will not tolerate a band of merchants racking up profits by provoking needless military action. A war with Amn could cripple us."
"How has Amn been responding?" Khalid wanted to know.
Eltan scoffed. "As you would expect. You've been to Nashkel, I'm sure you've seen the muster taking place there. That activity has spread to other border towns. But you see, unlike us, they have plenty of iron to go around, whereas we are highly dependent on one source."
"If Amn made a pre-emptive strike, we would be at a disadvantage," Scar added quietly. "The last thing we need is a group like the Knights of the Shield in the picture, stoking more tensions from the shadows."
"You think that is why the Knights are involved?" Jaheira asked, keeping her face neutral.
"Misinformation is their weapon of choice. It would be right up their alley," replied Scar.
"The Throne would have needed their help to evade attention all this while." Eltan's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Very clever to blow smoke at the Zhentarim, the Chill and even the Black Talons, when in fact the masterminds were right here under our very noses."
"Well, they've been planning this for almost a year," remarked Xan.
"Indeed. Now, before we continue to what needs to be done, I would first like a question answered. What I want to know now is, why is your group after the Throne? What tipped you off?" Eltan gave them the shrewd gaze of one accustomed to interrogating people.
"We began with the investigation of the Nashkel Mines, at the mayor's behest. Berrun Ghastkill is an old friend, you see," answered Jaheira carefully. "From there, the trail through the Wood of Sharp Teeth and Cloakwood led us to Rieltar and his inner circle. We don't know what the tension with Amn is meant to achieve other than to drive the people of the Gate to stockpile iron, creating a captive market for their supplies."
"Sensible thus far." Eltan nodded, then exchanged a knowing look with Scar. "And what about Miss Elene here? What is her connection to the Throne?"
Elene looked up in surprise. "Me?"
"It has come to my attention that the Throne have been distributing bounty notices on your head. For the past several months, in fact. Can you assure me that your pursuit of them is coincidental, and not part of a vendetta?" asked Eltan, his tone soft, almost dangerously so.
"If there's anyone with a vendetta, it's them," she replied without hesitation, unintimidated by the Duke. "You can investigate me if you wish, my lord, but I have never set foot outside of Candlekeep until a few months ago. I didn't know the Iron Throne and their ilk existed until they put a price on my head."
"It begs the question then. Why would they be after a girl raised in a library?" Scar prodded.
Elene's lips curved into a benign smile. "Maybe they didn't like my thesis on cross-regional trade."
"I can assure you that none of us here have any personal quarrel with the Throne, my Lord," Jaheira interjected before Scar could reprimand Elene for that remark. At the back of her mind, she admitted that it was a lie, since Kivan certainly had beef with them. "The only thing we've done since Nashkel was to follow the paper trail. And you have seen with your own eyes that they lead irrevocably to Rieltar Anchev and his cronies."
It was long, tense wait, but eventually Eltan nodded, satisfied. "I needed to be sure. I will not send mercenaries with a grudge after Rieltar, no matter what he's done."
"You wish to send us after them?" Jaheira asked in surprise. "Even after what happened?"
"I am not condoning your methods. Not by a long shot." Eltan paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "Yet your group is the first to know the workings of the Throne so intimately that you have the best chance of uncovering what they're really up to. The Knights of the Shield have been a thorn in my side for years. My skin crawls at the thought of those two working in tandem."
"And from what we've heard, your group would be quite familiar with Candlekeep as well," Scar looked to Elene.
"You…want us to go to Candlekeep?" Elene asked.
"If I were to be frank, I mostly want you out of the city while this storm in a teacup blows over. It's all I can do to stave off questions from my peers at the moment, especially given that there were no patrols in the area that night." Eltan shot Scar a pointed look, which earned the Duke an uncomfortable shuffle of feet from his right-hand man. "Most of all, I want you to confirm who Rieltar is meeting, and to interrogate those men if you get a hold of them. If we can solidify the evidence base that we have, I will finally have grounds to bring down the law on those scoundrels."
He pulled open a drawer to his left and extracted a thick black tome, setting it on his desk. Jaheira could almost smell the age of the tome even from where she was standing. "You will need this to get past the Gatewarden. As I'm sure you would know."
Elene and Imoen exchanged looks at that, the latter excited while Elene seemed apprehensive. Not quite the homecoming either of them expected.
"I will arrange horses to take you to Candlekeep by Highsun," offered Scar. "We have magical means to transport you, but we want to keep the circle of confidence small. For now, only Duke Eltan, Fergus and I are aware that you are working for us, and we would like to keep it that way. We don't know how deeply the rot has set."
"Then we will prepare for departure as soon as possible," said Jaheira.
"Good. Remember, your task is to gather evidence or even better, a confession. I will not tolerate any further bloodshed on this case, you hear. No matter what you discover from these men. You will be served the full force of Flaming Fist justice if you do not heed my words." His warning delivered, Eltan nodded, crisp and business-like. "I expect to see you in a tenday or so with good news."
The group filed out from his office in varying states of contemplation. Whatever they had been thinking, they did not expect to get sent packing to Candlekeep at such short notice. Jaheira's brows furrowed at the thought, deciding that she would need to make a detour to the Harper base before returning to the Elfsong. She would not allow events to overtake proper planning. There was too much at stake.
Scar clapped Khalid on the shoulder as they made to leave. "Your horses will be waiting for you at the stables. Any correspondence with us must be in person. We fear anything in writing can be intercepted, since doppelgangers are in play here."
"Prudent. We will reach out to you the moment we have something solid," Jaheira agreed.
"I look forward to getting answers. In the meantime, I still have to clean up after you. The Emissary's family is beside themselves with anger and I don't blame them. A simple negotiation should not have ended in her death." Scar sighed, then gave them a half-hearted salute. "Anyway, safe journey and see you soon."
With that, they parted ways. Imoen was already drawing up an inventory of all the things she needed to pack and the people she had to write notes to prior to their departure. From his relaxed stance, Kivan seemed quite pleased to be getting out of the city. Elene, though, looked worried, even as she cradled the valuable tome to her chest like a precious gift.
"I need to check on something before we leave. You go on ahead," Jaheira announced as they cleared the Flaming Fist compound.
Khalid gave her a knowing look and began to lead the way back to the Elfsong. Seeing that, Xan's brows furrowed sceptically yet he followed Khalid without comment. She broke away from the group, heading west, toward the Royal palace. Unlike the Zhentarim, who preferred to set up bases in the Merchant Quarter, the Harpers of the Gate preferred to have theirs in the more upmarket district due to the Fist presence. Having the law on hand was handy given the number of thieves and saboteurs crawling all over the city. Make no mistake, underneath its glittering façade, Baldur's Gate had always been a city of vast machinations and intrigue.
The Harper base was a manor house much like any other in the district, big, tasteful, full of greenery. It was a testament to the skill of her old mentor, Entillis Fulsom, that they had managed to maintain the relationship with nature even in the middle of a bustling city.
She knocked on the door and waited. Her last trip to the base was almost a tenday earlier, with Khalid. Then, it had been a case of sending more agents to watch the Throne and perhaps increase monitoring on the other merchant circles. After the incident with the Seven Suns, however, more Harpers from the chapter had been despatched to find the creatures' origins, before they could sow more chaos. She trusted her brethren to get to the bottom of the infestation.
When the door opened a crack, she nodded at the woman within and whispered, "Those who harp are never truly alone."
"Welcome, sister," the woman smiled and let her in.
"Is Entillis here?" asked Jaheira.
"He's in his study. Go right on ahead," the woman beckoned for her to head upstairs.
Although she hadn't been in the Gate for years, she would always have fond memories of this chapter. In her impulsive years of youth, a mission with Gorion had taken her here, and she remembered the night when she'd argued with Gorion about a plan until she was almost blue in the face. Eventually, Entillis just stepped in with a pot of tea and asked if anyone considered a different approach, which rendered the entire argument moot in an instant.
He became the head of the Harpers in Baldur's Gate for a reason.
Entillis was reading as she breezed into his office, reclining on a plush chair by the window. Even indoors, his space was decorated with various plants and herbs, bathed in natural light. As an elf, time did not touch him; he seemed as spry and youthful as he did when she'd first met him decades ago, his hair still as black as night. Yet there was a hint of sadness lining his grey eyes which hadn't been there before.
"Jaheira, my dear. I thought our meeting was tonight?" he asked, lowering his book.
"Change of plans. We are to leave the city by Highsun," she told him.
Accustomed to her abruptness, he put away his book and gestured for her to join him in the adjacent chair. She took a seat and organised her thoughts, mindful of his patient gaze, before launching into her explanation.
"The meeting with Duke Eltan went well. He wasn't pleased about the body count at the Iron Throne building. But we have his attention from the letters and documents we secured. The Throne's leaders are meeting with the Knights of the Shield in Candlekeep in a few days and he wants us to intercept them there."
"What is driving his concern?" Entillis frowned. "Surely he knows by now that the Knights have been the ones framing the Zhentarim for all these troubles. All signs have been pointing to that."
"Eltan seems to think there's more to it. That the Knights are fanning more hostilities with Amn, as the Anchevs' letters indicate. It makes sense…if there was military action, there would be more demand for iron than food, but…" Jaheira shook her head in doubt, "It just seems an extreme course to take just to increase profit, even for the likes of the Throne."
Entillis' handsome face soured with disgust. "The Knights are known to spread such propaganda for coin. It wouldn't be the first time they did that, nor would it be their last. Yet it begs the question, who could possibly gain from war with a nation such as Amn? It would be disastrous for all who live in the Western Heartlands, no matter their creed."
"I don't know. I won't deny that I have a bad feeling about all this," mused Jaheira.
"I will send Delthyr to reconnoitre, try to corroborate what you've told me. In the meantime, it would be best to go along with what Eltan has asked of you. Especially since he's giving you the resources to do so. Just remember to watch out for yourselves. From what has happened when you first came, this plot seems to be spiralling into something bigger than any of us had imagined," Entillis cautioned her.
"We're always careful." She squeezed his hand "You worry too much, old man."
He smiled. "For you? Always."
Smile fading, Jaheira released him as she got to her feet. "I will have to take my leave now. Candlekeep is days away, even on the fastest horse. You will receive a report from us either in person or through the usual channels, if either of us are unable to come. I promise we will stop their mad scheme, whatever it may be."
"Jaheira, before you go." Something in his tone gave her pause. His expression had become distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. "You must be prepared for what you may find in Candlekeep. Sometimes…people are not what they seem to be. Even if you think you know them well."
"What are you talking about?" She frowned at him. "Does this have something to do with Gorion?"
"I can't…" he tried.
"Don't give me that, Entillis," she cut him off. "These Iron Throne bastards have stopped at nothing to get at Elene, and I want to know why. Gorion must have had his reasons when he chose to 'retire' so suddenly, right as we needed him most. It's something to do with the child, isn't it?" she demanded. "I owe it to her to get to the bottom of this, her life is at stake."
Entillis exhaled slowly, his eyes becoming shuttered as he did. "I only ask that you prepare yourself for whatever you may find. That is all I can say on the matter." And just like that, the matter was closed, she could tell. Even so, he stood, grazing her shoulder with a gentle touch. "Be well, my dear. Give my regards to your husband."
Jaheira strode out without another word, fuming.
As she walked out of the base, a strong feeling of discomfort began to build in her chest even as Entillis' cryptic warning echoed in her mind. He had never been the sort to speak in riddles with her, and yet there was clearly something he was not allowed to say. Something special, something secret about Elene that Gorion was willing to die for.
If only he'd told her what it was first.
Author's Note:
And we're off to Candlekeep, where it all began. There will be another chapter to arrange the set pieces before we jump into the maelstrom proper. I'm simultaneously excited and stressed about writing this coming arc to its fruition.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. :)
Thanks very much to my beta Odivallus.