Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 44
The game plan
A woman laughed in the corner, a low throaty sound as she stroked the cheek of the man leering over her. The dim lighting made her pale flesh stand out more starkly against the dark cloth of her barely-there dress, similar to the other women staking their territories in that section of the tunnels. Dominating the sights and sounds, though, was the cloying mix of perfume and incense that hung heavy in the air.
How Jaheira hated it all.
She didn't bother to hide the disgusted curl of her lips as she stalked through the narrow hallways alone, witnessing debauchery around every corner. The Undercellars of Baldur's Gate acted as the playground of the rich and the seedy both, where both men and women sold their bodies for coin under the protective eye of paid guards. Briefly Jaheira wondered what it said about people, about civilisation in general, that there was always demand for such unsavoury locales in every city she'd ever been to.
Of course Sarevok's assassins would choose to make their abode here while waiting for their next strike. The Undercellar was hidden enough, and the Fists gave the place a wide berth to avoid embarrassing high-ranking nobles. Nobles who would be remarkably red-faced if their spouses discovered that no, they had not in fact been in business meetings all those late nights. She wondered what other vermin lurked in the veiled rooms dotting the tunnels.
The others were scattered about the tunnels, prowling for signs of a pale-skinned man in leathers and a woman with white-blonde hair. Slythe and Kristin, the duo responsible for such an upheaval in the city. Having uncovered the final lead that got them here, Husam's men were tagging along for the hunt. She only hoped they would prove themselves as help rather than a hindrance. In such tight quarters, numbers may turn out to be a disadvantage, especially with so many bystanders about.
Ideally, they would wait for the assassins to make their way to less populated areas, but the choice would be out of their hands soon. The ballots had been cast, and Sarevok had been confirmed as the Grand Duke to take the spot vacated by the deceased Entar Silvershield. His coronation would take place in two days. No doubt that is when these assassins would strike, to take out the remaining two dukes and allow Sarevok to proceed unchallenged with his ambitious military plans.
With so much at stake, they had to take a risk.
Though her eyes and ears were alert, her mind strayed to the memory of the past days. She doubted killing Cythandria unravelled much of Sarevok's plans. The woman was nothing more than a concubine, a trophy consort at best. Tamoko did not appear again, though her information on Eltan made a tremendous difference. They had all breathed a sigh of relief when the message came from the Harbourmaster yesterday, informing them that the duke had regained consciousness and was on the mend. It seemed that they would have a benefactor to support their case when the time came to pit their accusations again Sarevok in earnest.
From the Harpers, she'd heard nothing of use. Disappointment still burned uncomfortably in her gut every time she thought of her brethren. She'd informed Entillis that they were in the city, though she remained purposely vague about the location. All she received in turn were more questions. No offer for help would be forthcoming until she found proof against Sarevok, she suspected.
Oh, I'll get them proof, all right. Enough to drown them in it.
Suddenly, she noticed a hooded figure peering around the corner, a slim-built man. Upon spotting her, he made a frantic beckoning gesture. Jaheira frowned. One of Husam's men. It appeared that they had found their quarry. She quickened her steps to catch up to the man.
He led her to the west, past veiled alcoves concealing what sounded like carnal activities behind them. The long walkway eventually converged in the middle, where three others like it connect from the west, north and south. Like a hive in the centre of the tunnels, a small pit covered in sheets and pillows and billowing smoke from lotus concealing half the people lounging amid the furnishings. A perfect place to hide, right in the thick of things.
The others were already there. Jaheira spotted Khalid loitering at the northern walkway, in all likelihood accompanied by Imoen. Xan was to the south, his grey hood and cloak obvious to her eyes. Elene wouldn't be far away. Spotting another of Husam's men scuttling in from the west meant that Kivan must be on the prowl close behind.
"Which one?" she asked her guide, her voice quiet.
The hooded man jerked his chin toward a couple seated on a pile of gaudy red pillows, sharing a pipe. Squinting as she tried to see past the smoke, she guessed that the man would be the muscle. Assassin though he was, he looked strong enough to wield a heavy weapon if he chose to. The woman, however, was a mystery, dressed in a stylish tunic and leggings. Beautiful, golden-haired, she shone brighter than all the perfumed women in this dark place. Difficult to estimate her strengths, as she appeared to be unarmed.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced up and caught Khalid's eye. Then she nodded. Turning to Xan, she repeated the same. She couldn't find Kivan, but she trusted that an arrow would come in from the shadows when their enemy least expected it.
Show time at last.
"Let's move."
With slow, calm strides, she approached the lounge pit with Husam's man on her right. A few observant courtesans saw her bearing, then the weapon in her hand, and wisely stepped out of her way. From the corner of her eye, she noted Khalid and Elene's advance from their side with two more of Husam's men. Xan hung back, out of sight.
The man, Slythe, glanced up at the sound of approaching metal boots. Instead of looking concerned, his eyes twinkled with amusement as he studied the armed men and women closing in.
Jaheira was instantly on her guard.
"Lookit Kristin, we've got friends, come to play," he drawled.
Kristin giggled demurely, taking another puff from the pipe. "How lovely."
"I have no time for games. Where is Sarevok?" asked Jaheira.
"Straight to the point, eh?" Slythe smiled as he came to his feet like an uncoiling cobra, within striking reach of her. "Shame. I quite find myself in a mood for games. Honey?"
"As you say, love," purred Kristin.
She then twisted a ring on her finger and disappeared in a flash. Cursing, Jaheira backed into a defensive stance as Slythe drew two knives from his bandolier. Men and women lounging about them clambered off the pillows to make a run for it. Not a moment sooner, as Slythe launched his knives towards Jaheira and Husam's man at frightening speed. One knife bounced harmlessly off her shoulder plate as she turned her body away, while the other struck her ally in the shoulder, eliciting a grunt of pain from the man.
Khalid leaped down from the walkway to intercept Slythe. The assassin favoured two short swords, his figure almost blurring as he moved, making him a difficult target to strike at. Elene, however, remained on top of the walkway, her eyes flicking left and right searching for signs of Kristin. Even as an arrow flew in, Slythe laughed as he dodged. Two more of Husam's men jumped into the pit to subdue him, but the smile remained on the assassin's lips. He seemed in his element, surrounded by foes.
Almost as though…he wanted them there.
Jaheira began to back away.
A shout from Elene preceded a sudden gust of noxious fumes bursting near Jaheira's feet, bathing the lounge pit in coppery smoke. The smell was terrible, bringing tears to her eyes and racking cough through her throat within seconds. Bystanders not quick enough to flee the confrontation were already on their knees, caught surprised by the sudden onslaught. Her lungs began to burn with every breath as she stumbled towards the walkway to escape the cloud's area of effect. To stay within would be a death sentence.
Behind her, she could hear that Husam's men weren't so lucky. Somehow Slythe was completely unaffected by the poison cloud. They were fresh meat for him as they flailed in the fumes fighting for each breath, their light armour making them easier targets than Khalid in his metal plates. The thought of her husband's peril fuelled her as she clambered back onto higher ground, a spell already prepared on the tip of her tongue.
She thought of the Wealdath, the vast green lands of Tethyr. Air so pure you wish you could drink it. Then she reached deep within for Silvanus' grace. Her body became a conduit for her God's power as she spread her hands and chanted a verse to dispel the poisonous air. The brown fumes floated up towards the cavernous ceiling of the Undercellar before dispersing into nothingness.
Khalid gasped an appreciative lungful of air just before he parried a blow from Slythe, the men around them already dispatched by the assassin. Catching her breath, she saw flashes of light as Elene and Xan duelled a magically shielded Kristin.
Instead of wading back into the pit, Jaheira raised a hand and continued to cast. She would love nothing more than to call down lightning on these monsters but being indoors limited her options. Where there was earth, however, nature would provide. Vines crawled out from the ground at her command, lashing out to twine at Slythe's legs to slow him down. Without mobility, he would be at a disadvantage.
Slythe sidestepped the vines with unerring agility. He must be drawing on magic, to be able to shrug off the poisonous fumes from earlier as well as move at such speed. Even so, an arrow from Kivan caught him in the arm, drawing a grunt of pain from the man. Khalid closed in at the opportunity, jabbing with one sword, then slashing in with another. Both moves evaded by the opponent. Jaheira called on a spell to give a blessing to Khalid, Kivan and herself, hoping to give an advantage to her side. They needed to pile on the advantage to finish this quickly, it seemed that Khalid and Slythe were too evenly matched.
Another arrow flew in, this time lodging itself in Slythe's midsection. Not a critical wound, but one sure to slow him down. Jaheira looked up at Imoen's shout, then noticed Elene discarding her weapon as she careened away from Kristin in panic, batting at her armour as if it were on fire. Yet there wasn't even a spark of flame to be seen on her.
An illusion or enchantment of some sort. A mage of some power, then.
Kristin raised her hand to point at Kivan next, the archer seen as the biggest threat coming from their group. Too far away to intervene, Jaheira turned her attention back to Slythe with a growl of frustration. She had to trust Xan and Imoen to handle the mage. Outnumbered though they were, these two were more than a match for them. Sarevok did not hire fools. If she had to guess, they were disciples, if not outright members of the Night Knives, a formidable thieves' guild in Sembia.
Slow circling duels weren't going to work in their favour. Time to switch things up.
Jaheira leaped back into the lounge pit, chanting under her breath. With a quick glance, Khalid caught her movement and angled sideways, already guessing at her next move. Then she hooked her staff on the crook of her elbow as she clapped as loudly as she could. A thunderous roar reverberated from her hands, and it manifested as a cone of force which buffeted Slythe from the side, putting him off-balance.
Before he could recover, she whipped her staff towards the side of his head, netting a glancing blow. At the same time, a tremendous blast detonated on the walkway, bathing the whole area in a hot orange glow. She tried not to focus on the cacophony behind them as she and Khalid wore their opponent down, Kristin's shrill high notes clashing against Xan's measured tones. Even Imoen had gotten in on the action, her chants sounding crisp and confident for a girl who had just begun to cast her own spells a few months prior.
Slythe may be an experienced fighter, but Jaheira and Khalid had done this dance many times together. Their synergy was what made them powerful as a pair, one flowing as the other ebbed. Once they fell into a comfortable cadence, Jaheira went on the offensive while Khalid tested Slythe's defences with measured strikes until he found an opening.
In dodging a blow from her, Slythe moved into the path of one of Khalid's arcing swords. A hit to the thigh meant to slow rather than maim. For an assassin whose advantage lay in mobility, however, it was a death sentence.
"Kristin!" Slythe shouted.
Then he, Khalid and Jaheira found themselves engulfed in a cloud of smoke so thick, you couldn't see your hand in until it was right in front of you. Khalid cursed, unwilling to try for another strike when it risked hitting her instead. Once again, Jaheira rested her staff in the crook of an arm as she once again chanted for Silvanus to clear the air before them. When the smoke cleared, she saw that Slythe had clambered out of the pit and was trying to make a run for it.
Where in the hells is Kivan?
With an almighty grunt, Khalid levered himself out of the pit in his heavy armour. He would feel that later, no doubt. Fuelled by adrenaline, he balanced himself on his knees and launched a throwing axe at Slythe's retreating form before he could get away. It struck the assassin square in the back in a burst of blood, flooring him. Then Khalid flexed his fingers to summon the axe. Sure enough, the weapon dislodged itself in another spray of blood and returned to his outstretched hand.
Kristin screamed.
Seeing her focus disrupted, Xan moved in with his moonblade. Her shields were meant to protect her from normal weapons and projectiles. They wouldn't do much against a heavily enchanted sword wielded by a Greycloak. She didn't last long against Xan's quick strikes. All in all, a quicker death than either of them deserved.
Coarse shouting erupted from one end of the Undercellars, followed by the recognisable clank of armour. The guards were finally stepping in. Hopefully, it was only the paid guards who watched over the place and not the Fist. Their group had equal chance of being arrested as the assassins.
And if they're caught consorting with Shadow Thieves…well.
That didn't bear thinking about.
"Quickly, search them. We must go," hissed Jaheira, her voice marked by hoarseness.
Khalid sheathed his weapons and went after Slythe's body while Xan went to work on Kristin. Imoen kneeled by Elene's dazed form, helping her shake off the effects of Kristin's spell. Jaheira, however, approached Kivan. The area around him was charred black and littered with a few bodies, with small flames still licking at the decorative curtains at the edges of what must have been a concentrated blast zone. Pure reflexes had probably spared Kivan of the same fate. He'd propped himself up against a pillar, guzzling at a healing potion, terrific burns adorning his left side. His entire bearing had the air of someone who has gone through it all before.
Jaheira pursed her lips. "Fireball?"
Kivan nodded tiredly.
Sighing, she cast a strong healing spell to get him back to his feet, though in truth, she needed healing just as badly from the aftereffects of the poison cloud. There would be time for self-care later, though. She waited just long enough for the others regrouped around them, then bade them to flee towards the hidden tunnel into the sewers, Elene distractedly stuffing Slythe's weapons into her bag of holding as she jogged to keep up.
As their boots sloshed in the murky waters of the sewers, Jaheira realised that none of Husam's four men made it out alive. She hoped that he didn't see it as a sign as betrayal. Not to say that they weren't well-trained, but none of them were equipped to face the likes of Slythe and Kristin. They should have hung back rather than gone for a frontal assault on Slythe when the real threat was likely Kristin all along. A lesson at least her group have lived to learn.
Oh, how she hated fighting mages.
Halfway through their trek, though, the sound of running feet coming from ahead put them on high alert. Despite his injuries, Kivan already had an arrow ready to fire, as they hugged the walls and waited for the new arrival. Jaheira raised a hand as she spotted Husam barrelling through the corner with a large sack over his back. He came to a grinding halt upon seeing the group of six, eyes wide, but he recognised their forms even in the darkness. His brows furrowed when he noticed that none of his men accompanied them.
"I hope you lot aren't here after running with your tails between your legs?" he asked, tone dry. "Bad news, chaps. The safehouse is compromised."
Khalid frowned. "Compromised how?"
"You can head up and have a look. Shake hands with the dozen Fists already poking about the place." Husam gestured to the way behind him, earning dismayed looks from the rest of the group. "I grabbed what I could and legged it, but I had to leave most of it. Where are my boys?"
"They didn't make it...those assassins were more than a match for us," Jaheira told him.
Husam's features darkened. "Did you use them as fodder?"
"Excuse me, we didn't exactly walk away unscathed." Elene pointed out, eyeing Jaheira, Kivan and Khalid. "If Jaheira hadn't gotten rid of that poison cloud, only two or three of us would be talking to you right now."
"Right, step over here, there's an alcove. Tell me everything," said Husam, his jaw tight.
Settling in a small nook in the dank tunnels, Elene took over the retelling of the battle in detail, describing Slythe and Kristin's individual abilities and highlighting that they didn't seem surprised by the attack. If anything, they seemed to be expecting it. While listening, Jaheira took the opportunity to heal Khalid and herself, dissipating the tightness in her lungs as the last of the damage repaired. Of late she felt like the group was eking forward based on patchwork healing, just to hurl themselves at the next threat.
She didn't know how much longer they could carry on like this.
Once the debrief was done to Husam's satisfaction, Elene moved on to the personal effects they'd scrounged from the assassins. They pored through the documents in Kristin's scroll case together, going through each correspondence with a critical eye. Kristin indeed held the key to their salvation, a set of invitations for a couple to attend the coronation of a new Grand Duke.
"What luck. They must have just gotten this today," breathed Husam.
"Some letters from Sarevok as well, looks like." Elene sheafed through a few papers in quick succession, her brows furrowing. "Full payment to be received upon successful removal of Grand Dukes Belt and Liia Jannath, with the amount agreed to be in multiple of what they'd received for 'the past engagement'."
Imoen paled. "They're hired to kill the other Grand Dukes!"
"This explains where all the Iron Throne's money has gone to," commented Elene mildly. "Can't be cheap, that sort of service."
Jaheira glanced at her ward, also putting two and two together. She was right. Sarevok must have emptied the coffers of his organisation to set all this up. Not only to secure his own nomination as Grand Duke, but also to fortify his position thereafter.
"Blasted Night Knives, always trying to kill everyone," cursed Husam under his breath.
But Jaheira heard it. Flicking her gaze over to Xan, he'd definitely heard it too.
"How are they planning to do it?" she mused instead. "The Ducal Palace will be swarming with Fists, not to mention nobles and their bodyguards. Not much prospect for survival once they've done the deed."
"This is in two days?" Xan remarked. "Looks like we can find out for ourselves."
"That's right." Husam pointed at Elene and Xan. "You two can be Slythe and Kristin, the rest of you can be maids and guards. With a bit of disguise, some practice, I think we can smuggle you lot in without too much trouble."
"You're gonna help us?" Imoen asked, eyebrow raised in suspicion.
Husam shot her a wry smile. "If this assassination succeeds, who do you think Sarevok is going to pin the blame on, poppet?"
"He wants his war," agreed Elene.
It would indeed be straightforward to keep pointing to the Shadow Thieves. With the unrest in the Gate, people would be eager to have an enemy to focus their unhappiness, aggression on. War would be a certain outcome with Sarevok acting as the lone decision-maker in the weeks while the nobles cobbled together new candidates for the other Dukes' seats.
"Okay, wait, wait. If we go in and crash their party, the Fists are gonna be asking quite rightly what in blazes is going on. We're still criminals here," Imoen pointed out. "I don't think a bunch of papers from some crazies is gonna get them to listen to us."
"A fair point," nodded Xan, his expression thoughtful. "This requires careful orchestration. We have to remember that Sarevok has been playing this city like an expert puppeteer."
"Not for long," grunted Kivan.
"Right." Husam got to his feet, brushing away invisible dust off his shoulders. "I'll leave the 'orchestration' in your capable hands. Let me mobilise what's left of my boys and see what we can do for the infiltration. Maybe move you to another safehouse in the east. I'll come back with news in a bit." He shot Elene a final, meaningful look as he turned to depart. "You have one shot at this."
"Understood," nodded Elene.
As Husam left, Elene looked to Jaheira. The girl displayed no sign of fear or nervousness. Only raw conviction. There was no doubt in the druid's mind that Elene meant to see the matter through.
"We have one day to prepare," Jaheira pointed out.
"Then let's make the day count," was Elene's reply.
Imoen jumped to her feet the moment Elene stood, the two girls already heading off with Xan to strategise their method of subterfuge. It would need to be a careful mix of physical and magical props to get all six of them past the tight security. Kivan retreated into his corner, taking off his armour with painstaking care. He needed to be in peak form for the upcoming confrontation, so his wound would need to be left to heal properly.
As for her…she exhaled slowly as she met Khalid's eyes. Her husband's expression was one of acceptance, the face of a man who knew what needed to be done. After months, they finally had Gorion's murderer in their sights. They would take due payment out of the bastard's hide. She only hoped they would not have to pay a heavy price to get it.
"Come on," she nudged Khalid.
The drawback of having elves as traveling companions was private conversations were a luxury in the shared space. Jaheira led them further down the tunnels, away from sharp ears and prying eyes. Not the best place to loiter, given that they would be seen by anyone traversing the route, but it would do for a short chat. After all, what were the odds of anyone traipsing through the sewers at this time of night anyway?
She watched Khalid as she leaned against the tunnels' wall, uncaring of the smell around them. Strips of bandages peaked out from between the plates of his armour, though they looked clean and unbloodied. Old nicks and cuts, except for the dark red patches by his right arm, fresh from today. She frowned in concern – when did that happen?
"Are you alright?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
He glanced at the spot she was staring at. "Oh, that? Just a cut. The blade wasn't poisoned, thankfully."
Jaheira's mind flashed back to Kristin's scream when Slythe was killed. Though the woman was her enemy, she knew how the other woman must have felt. If such a thing had happened to Khalid in front of her own eyes…she swallowed, shaking her head. No, it didn't bear thinking about. Such thoughts served only to distract her.
"It was a near thing," she said quietly, touching his cheek.
Khalid sighed and covered her hand with his, pulling it towards his lips for a quick kiss. "Indeed. The fight will be tougher when we face Sarevok himself."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"No. Of course not. Just…wondering how we are going to mount a rescue effort during a coronation."
"We have allies." She scoffed. "Not the ones we'd hoped for, perhaps, but allies nonetheless."
Try as she might, she could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. Khalid made a face as well. They hadn't had a chance to properly discuss what happened with Delthyr, but it was a burden of exasperation they both carried.
"Are you sure Entillis can't be convinced to help, dear?" he ventured.
"You've seen the replies," she bit back in anger. Then she took a deep breath. He was not at fault here. "We cannot rely on our kin, not for this. They would think us mad." She glared. "Or worse, 'adversely influenced'."
As if she and Khalid lacked the mental capacity to decide for themselves that Sarevok was someone who had to be stopped. Any fool could see that. Yet Elene's heritage made her a convenient scapegoat for everything bad that happened, regardless of whether she had any say on the matter. No wonder Gorion chose to seclude himself in that forsaken library for so long. Now that she considered it, his decision must have been on the back of a disagreement with other Harpers. She would likely have done the same as he did.
"What if we fail?"
Khalid's voice was so soft, she almost missed his question. Snapping her eyes up, she saw him filled with nervous energy, pulling distractedly at the straps of his vambrace. A tic he'd taken up after the…incident with the Zhentarim. One he fought to never show in front of others. In the silence, Jaheira appreciated that he'd kept the question between them. It was the question that needed to be asked, but one unlikely to be addressed with seriousness given the urgency with which they've been operating of late.
"Then we will all be tried and executed. Husam and his kin will be chased out of the city if not killed outright. Coran will follow after, maybe even Aldeth if his link to us could be proven," she admitted matter-of-factly. "We need a safeguard."
Khalid gave her a sad smile. "You know who we're left with."
Clenching her jaw, she looked away, trying to find some solace in the quiet surrounding them. She knew. She just refused to admit it.
With Eltan alive and safe, the Harpers could band together with him and mount a challenge against Sarevok if her group failed. With their resource, it would be a matter of time before their investigation unearthed more of Sarevok's unsavoury activities, possible witnesses to his crime. Entillis had all this on hand, she had written extensively on this matter before. All he needed was a final, irrevocable push to act.
The only thing left would be for her to swallow her pride to get things done.
How it galled her.
"I will write to him," Jaheira told him, despite her pinched expression.
He nodded, but she was already lost in thought, mind awash with possible contingencies in the event of failure. A macabre idea, to write to a friend, requesting them to finish the job if they fail. And yet…that had been how Gorion worded his final letter to her and Khalid.
She only hoped that unlike Gorion, her letter would remain a precaution, rather than a necessity.