Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 40

The bitter pill

A bitter chill lingered in the air, the heavy feel of it magnified by the light rain blanketing the woods. Jaheira flicked a glance at Imoen as she huddled closer to Elene for warmth. The small alcove they'd chosen as their vantage point was shielded from the rain until the wind blew the wrong way. Unfortunately, it's been blowing the wrong way steadily for the past hour.

Weather and wind weren't the only things not blowing their way of late. The past tenday had been a bleak affair, all of them trudging along as they coped with their circumstance as best as they could, sticking to the wilderness as much as possible. And for good reason. On their last day in Beregost, official bounty notices with their faces on them were found plastered at the town square, much to Jaheira's chagrin. News of their escape must have reached the Gate and Sarevok was already pitting the full force of the Flaming Fists against them.

They had a veritable mountain to climb if the same notices were all over the city as well, as she expected them to be. Such idiots they were for bungling into his trap so readily.

"Are you sure he's coming?" Kivan rumbled, as if on cue.

"He will come," Jaheira replied without hesitation.

While many uncertainties plagued their situation, she was sure this planned meeting, at least, would take place. They'd already gotten a clear reply to the message she'd sent back to the Harper base, meaning her original message had not been intercepted or tampered with. Included in the reply was an instruction to wait for Delthyr in the woods south of the Wyrm's Bridge. While she and Khalid were not close with the younger operative, they knew him by reputation to be a reliable sort. Why else would Entillis consistently assign him for the most sensitive missions?

The long wait did nothing to bolster her confidence, however. If anything, sitting idle was giving her far too much time to brood about their current predicament. Of late, her emotions were akin to malevolent tidal pools, shifting from anger to sadness to bitter disappointment from one hour to the next. Although Khalid kept his thoughts close to his chest on the matter, she knew his feelings did not stray far from hers. She could tell from the way his eyes kept straying back to Elene when he thought no one was looking.

Elene, a Bhaalspawn. If she'd been told before she met the girl, perhaps she could have accepted the knowledge with ease. As it was, though, she'd seen first-hand how peaceable, gracious, and thoughtful Elene was as a person, and she could not reconcile those traits with who the girl was by blood. Yet at the same time…she couldn't deny that the truth explained away so many inconsistencies with her background, not to mention her unusual capacity for bloodshed and those abilities she developed over time.

Gorion, you old fool. Why were we not told?

That was the question that continued to irk Jaheira, it chafed at her as she lay awake at night. The only explanation she could think of was that Gorion planned to reveal everything at the Friendly Arm Inn when they met. What happened in his journey was perhaps beyond his ability to predict. Yet it didn't excuse Entillis' silence on the matter, since he clearly knew the truth along with the other senior Harpers.

Were she and Khalid expected to bumble across the continent with a Bhaalspawn in tow for the rest of their adventuring days? And then sit back and wonder why so many forces were pursuing her ward along the way? The more she mulled it over, the more she believed that there was no grand plan for Elene. Almost as though the girl was someone the organisation had inherited because Gorion had made an irreversible choice more than a decade ago, to adopt the child of a dead friend. Harper silence on this reeked of negligence, a matter the higher-ups knew could become a significant problem, but they couldn't be bothered to devote proper time and resource to manage it properly. In the end, it was up to the field agents to cobble together a solution in the interim on a shoestring.

Typical bloody politics.

She'd thought the Harpers should be above such things.

"Someone's coming," Kivan pointed out.

Jaheira straightened from the rock wall she rested against, raising a hand to shield her eyes from erratic raindrops. Sure enough, a man garbed from head to toe in blue and grey travelling gear was approaching, a sword strapped to his belt. As he neared, the man dropped his hood and gave them a friendly wave.

"Hail, Jaheira. Khalid."

Nodding, she stepped out to clasp his arm in a warrior's grip. "Delthyr. We thought you'd gotten lost."

She pulled him toward the doused campfire, now damp and ineffectual in the rain. It had been a monumental exercise of hope that Imoen and Khalid had even tried to get the fire going, but at least it had kept them busy during the wait. Anything was better than sitting in the silence and stewing in troubled thoughts.

Delthyr smirked as he perched gracefully on a relatively dry patch within the alcove of rocks. "I do venture out of the city now and then, you know." Then his expression sobered as he studied the rest of the group. "How have you been holding up?"

"Well enough for fugitives," Jaheira replied, her tone like sandpaper. "What news do you bring?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid," he sighed. "Sarevok Anchev returned to the city about a tenday ago and has already taken over control of the Iron Throne. He claimed, very loudly, that his father and Brunos had been murdered by agents of Amn."

"What?" Elene exclaimed.

Her outburst earned a curt nod from Delthyr. "So the story goes. He's been corroborated by a very potent rumour mill. We can't trace the source yet at the moment, but it spread like wildfire. To back up his claim, he put his money where his mouth is and has since pledged all the Throne's iron resource to the city almost free of charge. For any…military efforts in the future."

Xan leaned back, muttering something unkind under his breath.

"How have the Dukes reacted to all this?" Jaheira prompted.

"This is where it gets worse." Delthy's face darkened. "Duke Silvershield was assassinated the day you left the Gate. Days after, Duke Eltan was taken ill, and Scar was found murdered in a gutter to the east of the city."

Imoen raised a hand to her mouth while the others looked at one another in shock.

Jaheira clenched her jaw. "Who are they blaming?"

"A mark of the Shadow Thieves was found in the Silvershield estate after the assassination. For all intents and purpose, it looks like the work of Amn." Delthyr ran a hand through his flaxen hair in a nervous gesture. "Eltan's illness was not taken as suspicious, since he's not exactly a young man anymore. Scar's death was deemed a case of an unfortunate run-in with brigands while on patrol. The investigation didn't yield anything suspicious, from what I've heard."

The group digested the news in stunned silence. Elene and Xan looked especially bothered, their brows furrowed in deep thought, likely figuring out how Sarevok managed to pull off such a coup while not even in the city. The man had the perfect alibi, being away in Candlekeep as his plans were set into motion.

"My, my. They have been busy," Xan noted bitterly.

"Indeed. And now there's an empty Grand Duke seat," said Delthyr, sending across a meaningful look to Jaheira.

She started, eyes wide. "That's what Sarevok is angling for?"

"It is beginning to look that way. A few people from the noble families have begun to ballot candidates to replace Duke Silvershield." Delthyr hesitated. "Sarevok's name features quite prominently on at least some of those ballots."

Elene squeezed her eyes shut.

"When will the ballots be counted?" Jaheira asked.

"Just over a tenday from now. The coronation of the new Grand Duke will take place soon after that."

"Which way is the wind blowing in the city?" Khalid wanted to know.

Delthyr's eyes crinkled with concern. "Sarevok's got his finger on the pulse of the city, he's stirred the hornet's nest for certain. The people are angry about the assassination, of both the Duke and the Throne leaders. They're baying for Amnian blood, such is the mood. The Fist has already begun a massive recruitment drive to swell their ranks in preparation for conflict."

"He's playing the whole city for fools," Jaheira said.

"Looks like he's getting his war, after all," murmured Elene.

"Wait, Sarevok wants a war with Amn? Is it about the iron?" Delthyr asked, taken aback.

Jaheira exchanged an uneasy glance with Khalid, unsure of how much they could share with Delthyr. Although Entillis was in the know, they weren't sure how aware the rest of the organisation was of the girl Gorion adopted. In the end, though, it was Elene who spoke up.

"It's not about the iron. He just wants blood."

"Why?"

Elene exhaled slowly, unblinking as she locked eyes with Delthyr. "He is one of the Bhaalspawn."

Delthyr goggled at her. "You know this for a fact?"

"Yes," Jaheira interjected, and left it at that. From his visceral reaction, she presumed that Delthyr was not in the loop on Elene's secret, and she had no intention of changing that. "All the more reason he must be stopped. Delthyr, we need to get back into the city to do so. Can you help us?"

"Ah, Jaheira. I need to ask you something." Delthyr cleared his throat. "We heard that your group was responsible for the deaths of Rieltar Anchev and Brunos Costak."

"We were framed," she told him, emphasising each word.

An awkward silence preceded his reply. "Yet a written missive from Candlekeep's Keeper of the Tomes was quite unequivocal about the sentence. Apparently, there was evidence and multiple witnesses."

"You believe this nonsense?" Jaheira almost wanted to screech.

Delthyr spread his hands in a placating fashion. "You must understand how this looks. You're all accused…nay, sentenced for murder, then you come asking for help to go after Sarevok Anchev. I have nothing but your word to go on."

"Delthyr, please..." Khalid began.

"Isn't the word of a fellow Harper good enough?" demanded Jaheira. "Are we not bound by the same tenets?"

Delthyr gave them both a long, measured look. Although he had spoken with compassion and understanding, she could see in his eyes that he'd decided even before he'd made the trek to see them.

"Forgive me, Jaheira. Khalid. We cannot be seen to be helping convicted murderers."

"Then why are you even here?" she hissed.

"To hear from you with my own ears. To warn you of what awaits in the city, that the tides have turned in the favour of this Sarevok and his cronies." Then he stuck a hand in the breast of his coat and handed a piece of paper to her, like a pitiful peace offering. "And to give you this."

Jaheira took the paper with a questioning look. "This is the other message I asked you to send on?"

"The reply to it, yes." He shot her an appraising look. "You have some interesting friends, I must say."

She stepped away from him, focusing on the paper in her hand. A feeling of profound disappointment unlike anything else she'd ever felt settled heavy over her heart. After years, nay, decades of serving the Harpers, they were turning their backs on her right when she needed them most. It beggared belief that Entillis and the others were more concerned with image rather than the truth, and what needed to be done for the people of the Gate.

While she grappled with her feelings, Khalid stepped in with his manners. "Thank you, Delthyr. For making the trip. And sharing all this with us."

Delthyr sighed. "I wish…there was more I can do for you. Without proof, my hands are tied, Khalid. I hope you both understand."

"Are you going to just watch as Sarevok becomes Grand Duke?" Xan asked, his tone deceptively mild.

"We will be watching him closely, not to worry. If his intentions are indeed as malicious as you claim, we won't hesitate to step in," the Harper replied with a cool look.

"Oh, we'll get you proof," Imoen grumbled. "Just you wait."

Delthyr settled back to his feet in a smooth movement. Then with a respectful glance at both Khalid and Jaheira, he touched his chest, his fingers brushing against a golden pin he wore there. Jaheira's eyes flickered over the pin and she suddenly felt an irrational urge to pluck it off him and throw it into the woods.

"Farewell, my friends. And be careful."

Jaheira said nothing as he departed, just as the rain began to pick up. For the longest time she merely gazed blankly at the treeline, wondering if Gorion had been abandoned in Candlekeep just as she was being left to fend for herself on the run. Was that why Elene had to be cloistered away, never to see the light of day? Because no one else wanted to be responsible for her?

Well, she was never going to abandon Elene at least.

"What does the note say?" Imoen prodded her.

Stirring, Jaheira looked down at parchment Delthyr had given her, still crumpled in her hand. She'd forgotten all about it. She unfolded the note and frowned as her eyes skimmed through the zigzag script within. It was written in gibberish.

"What in the…"

"Hey!" Imoen snatched the paper out of her hand. "That's in thieves' code!"

Imoen ignored Jaheira's irritated glare and huddled excitedly with Elene to pore over the encoded message. As she opened her mouth to say something, Khalid made a vague waving gesture as if to say, 'let them sort it out'. She let them be with an annoyed huff. Trust those two to make a game out of such an important piece of information.

In the meantime, she settled next to Xan. Oh, there was a lot to think about. They'd been played, she realised. The meeting with the Knights in Candlekeep was just a ruse, to lure them into a trap while Sarevok's real plan was set in motion in the city. In one fell swoop, he had removed not only his obstacle to become a leader in the city, but also their strongest allies. No doubt there would be doppelgangers among the nobles clamouring for a new, younger, stronger Grand Duke to lead the Gate into battle with the Amnians.

A Bhaalspawn to lead the city's forces into bloodshed.

"What are we to do now?" Xan asked, disquiet in his voice.

Jaheira rubbed at the side of her face, fatigue setting in at the mere thought of the odds they had to surmount. On their own, this ragtag group of adventurers. "As much as I hate to say it…now, we wait for Coran to deliver."

Another quiet night passed. The gloomy weather an accurate reflection of how she felt. For once she wished Mother Nature was not so attuned to her moods, she would have been lifted by a bit of sun. The season will turn cold soon, making it more crucial to stop the war from happening. Mobilising an army in winter against Amn would be the height of folly, but in the current mood for blood, she doubted reason would feature very strongly in Sarevok's decision-making if bloodshed was all he was after. Sleep came in stops and starts for her, filled with shapeless dreams with no direction.

It wasn't until mid-morning that Imoen finally stood in the middle of the camp with a triumphant smile on her face. She waved the piece of parchment in the air as if it held the solution to all their problems. Jaheira certainly hoped so.

"This is from Coran. He said there's a boat waiting for us at the River Chiontar, where the waterway begins to widen towards the sea, and we have to be there by nightfall tonight to catch it."

"He has a boat?" Khalid blinked.

"Uhh, he didn't say whose boat. Just that we'd better have coin to board," Imoen admitted with a sheepish smile.

Jaheira flicked a glance at Elene, who shrugged. "Better than nothing."

Hardly a comforting notion, she thought. Then again, beggars can't be choosers. It was a sight better than whatever Delthyr offered. The sting of disappointment from their conversation continued to ache. She wondered if it would ever fade.

"What happens when we get to the city?" she asked instead.

"He didn't say much, only that he'd be waiting for us when we arrive," said Imoen.

"Hopefully not with a troop of Fists," Xan remarked in a bland tone.

"He wouldn't do that to us!" Imoen protested. Then hesitated.

Elene looked to Kivan. "How much was the bounty again?"

"Two thousand gold," he replied.

"Codswallop, that's a lot," Imoen swore. "Well then. I hope he wouldn't do that to us."

"We'll arrive on water," Elene pointed out. "Maybe we'd be able to swim out of danger if there was a welcoming party. We can all swim, right?" Then her gaze lingered on Khalid's plate mail. "We'd need a little spell to help lighten Khalid and Jaheira's armours perhaps."

"Let's hope that won't be necessary," Xan commented with dread.

Elene glanced at him as he spoke. The expressionless façade she'd been keeping up of late always wobbled every time she looked at him, Jaheira noticed. You'd have to be blind not to notice the distance that had built up between the two of them since the revelation, and Xan's hesitance to join them on their mission. Jaheira understood Xan well enough when they'd first started traveling together. Duty was as close to her heart as it was to his. Although, in his case, his heart was in Evereska and anything else would have to come second.

Eventually, Elene looked away with the mask of apathy slipping back on.

A sad but inevitable outcome, something she must learn from.

Meanwhile, the discussion had moved on to contingencies, in the event the plan went south. If Jaheira had been told months ago that she would have to anchor her strategy on Coran of all people, she would have laughed. It was a good sign at least that her group was paranoid enough to take precautions. None of them were keen to bungle into another trap so soon after extricating themselves from the last one.

With the plans agreed and decided, the party packed up their meagre belongings and headed north for the banks of the river Chiontar. She was familiar with the waterway, as wide as it was deep. The preferred fishing route for many boats coming from the city. No doubt most of the fish sold in the upper markets were from the river, which acted as the main tributary into the Sea of Swords. Although somehow, she doubted they were about to meet with a crew of innocuous fishermen.

They first heard rushing water after Highsun and reached the bank soon after. Although Coran had given them some hint of where to start searching, the plain landscape drew no clear landmark for them to follow. Kivan led them from there, trying to spot a logical berthing point along the rocky embankment. Baldur's Gate was still far from there, yet Jaheira almost expected to see a silhouette of the city to the west.

Hours of trekking later, Kivan called for a halt. He'd found their boat.

Rickety thing, Jaheira thought, studying the small wooden fishing boat with nets draped over the stern. A rugged, bearded fellow was resting on the main deck, smoking on a pipe, the epitome of relaxation. Another man stood on the embankment; his eyes locked onto the party as they approached. This second man was hooded and dressed in dark leathers, though his eyes gleamed from under the shadow of his hood. He was clearly expecting them.

"Ye friends?" he called out.

"Coran said you'd be waiting for us," Imoen told him.

The man didn't move. "He told ya the terms?"

The girl looked to Jaheira. "Yeah, he did."

Brows furrowing, Jaheira gave the dubious-looking man a cool once-over. The unsettling thing about planning was that you had to match it with reality to see if it would work. Their contact didn't exactly fill her with confidence. So many variables were at play here, so many actors. She still didn't have a good feeling about their current path.

Good thing Elene was a consummate planner. They had backup plans.

Jaheira just didn't like them very much.

The hooded man approached her, his hand outstretched. At her lack of reaction, he wiggled his fingers. "Aye up, maam, I don't have all day."

"You're sure about this, Elene?" Jaheira asked.

The girl's calm expression didn't budge an inch. "No one can be sure of everything."

Infuriating. Yet lately, that's how she's been. Nonchalant, indifferent about everything but finding the most efficient route into Baldur's Gate. Her behaviour an eerie mirror to Kivan, who along with Imoen, supported her every step of the way. Jaheira suspected it would get harder to rein in the renegade elements in their group from here on out.

Nonetheless, she had to try.

"Very well," Jaheira said, handing over a hefty pouch of gold. As the man closed his hand around it, however, she stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar, threat clear in her eyes. "If you try to double cross us, you'd better have more than one God to pray to, swine."

"Er…yes maam," stammered the man.

She gave him a good shake before releasing him. The man scurried back to his little boat, all legs and nervous energy, drawing a shake of the head from Elene.

"Come along, before he runs off with our boat," she said.

The party of six boarded the wooden boat, barely big enough to fit the six of them and the two men manning the vessel. Ostensibly it was a harmless fishing trawler. Underneath the floorboard however, Jaheira suspected hollow pockets had been built in to store the smuggler's contraband. A quick whiff of the air near the cockpit indicated that these men dabbled in black lotus, at a minimum. At least the vessel wasn't big enough to hide slaves.

"So uh, how'd you and Coran get to be friends?" Imoen sidled over next to the hooded man captaining the boat as they unmoored.

"I'm paid to move ye to the Gate, not answer yer questions."

Imoen threw her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright."

Not the chatty sort, Jaheira noted. Just someone paid to transport goods. She knew the type. She just wondered how Coran managed to rustle up such an arrangement on such short notice. Casting her gaze about the vessel, she saw Elene and Kivan sat at the bow, their eyes fixed on the horizon, murmuring to one another in their usual start-stop pattern. Xan positioned himself near the stern, fidgeting with spell components that would save their lives if they needed to abandon ship. Khalid stood near the cockpit not far from Imoen, worry pinching at his brow.

Despite the decrepit exterior of the boat, it sailed steadily and surely west. The river was calm, the winds having died down with the rain. Still no sun, though. It was tricky to guess at the passage of time as they passed by the rocks and trees on both sides of the bank. When they first spotted the spires of tall buildings in the distance, however, the hooded man abruptly stepped away from the wheel and signalled for his comrade to drop anchor.

"Why are we stopping?" Jaheira demanded to know.

"If yer keen to get arrested on arrival, we can proceed, maam," the man answered nonchalantly as he checked the rope fastenings attached to the anchor. "We need it to be dark if ye wanna make it safe past the Fist dock patrols."

Gritting her teeth, she settled back on her starboard perch. It made sense, though, a fishing vessel idle in deep waters for hours near sunset for a good catch. They were in for a long wait, though. She looked up and hoped that it wouldn't rain again. Her mood was stormy enough as it was.

First Seniyad, now Entillis…what has become of the old ways?

As they waited, Imoen eventually got the bearded man to play cards. Khalid joined, then Elene, and to their surprise, even Kivan got in the act after a few hands. They traded silvers, rumours, and tales of distant lands against the background of orange and purple as the sun set behind them. A surprisingly pleasant respite given the situation.

"'Ere, let's move. Dark enough," the hooded man barked a few hours after sunset.

The bearded man, who gave his name as Boric, grunted and set down his cards to get to work on the anchor. They resumed their journey toward the docks of the city, at the same time steering clear away from the big ships or the main docking area. Elene cast a quick illusion over their boat, making it appear to be littered with nets and buckets laden with catch rather than loaded with adventurers armed to the teeth. So far so good. As they coasted past other ships, the sailors and dockhands on board didn't spare their vessel a second glance.

Once they neared a rickety set of wooden platforms near the end of the docks, the hooded man took out his lantern and began flicker the flame with his hands in a fixed pattern. He repeated his actions three or four times until another light flashed to life on the upper platform. Nodding, the hooded man signalled to Boric before bringing the boat in as close as he could to the stairs of the platform. The boat thumped lightly against the support legs, then slowly rocked from side to side with the motion of the sea.

"Up ye go, ladies and gents," said the hooded man, beckoning upwards.

Up they went, with Elene in the lead and Xan in the rear. The old planks creaked ominously with every step. Otherwise, the surroundings were silent but for the distant sounds of the city and sailors guffawing from across the docks. These platforms were abandoned, Jaheira suspected, in favour of newer berths facing the waters of the sea. At the edge of the structure near street level, she spotted a lone figure pacing anxiously, with a lit lantern placed on a crate nearby. There was no sign of other company.

Well, well. Looks like the elf's good for his word, after all.

"Coran!" hissed Imoen as they approached.

Coran froze at the sound of her voice. As he turned to look at them, Kivan suddenly nocked an arrow to his bow just as Elene drew her sword. Behind her, Jaheira caught the ominous sound of a drawn blade. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder and saw a hooded figure standing behind Xan, his knife pressed against the mage's throat. To his credit, Xan did not react to the threat other than to direct a look of utmost hatred towards Coran further ahead.

Clenching her jaw, she looked around and saw six more hooded figures closing in on them with their weapons out. It had been agreed that they would prepare to bolt at the sight of metal armour. With a knife against Xan's throat and their exit blocked, though, that option had more or less evaporated.

Coran stepped towards them wearing a pained expression. Nervously, he held his hands out.

"Alright, look. I can explain."

.

.

Author's Note:

Poor Jaheira, repeatedly disappointed by those who used to be her mentors. I always thought it a waste that the first game never explored the Harper angle, especially since it's such a big element for Gorion, Khalid and Jaheira. Guess that's what fic-writing is for.

Many thanks to my beta Odivallus.