Chapter 11
Jaheira pushed open the door without knocking and stepped inside. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the two men in the room beyond, noting the packs at their feet and that they were both dressed and equipped for travel. They looked up from the map on the desk as Khalid hurried into the room after her.
No one spoke or moved for a long moment. The stouter of the two men then quietly rolled up and put away the map. He reached down and shouldered the larger of the two packs.
"I'll be outside."
He strode towards the two half-elves without a word or glance at them, ignoring Jaheira's glare and nodding his head in gratitude to Khalid when the latter quietly stood aside to allow him through to the doorway.
When she could no longer hear his footsteps descending the nearby stairs, Jaheira silently turned back to the room's remaining occupant, the intensity of her glare not lessening one iota.
Gorion met it with a stoic, stony expression; the mask he had worn since the events of the previous day.
The silence continued for a few more minutes with neither of them moving and Khalid nervously looking from one to the other.
"So this is how you are leaving?" Jaheira said at last. "Without a word to either of us?"
Gorion looked away from her, closing and opening the fingers of his right hand resting on the desk. "What do you want me to say?" he asked quietly.
Another long moment passed before Jaheira spoke again.
"I don't suppose you are going to tell us where you are going."
Gorion did not move or speak.
"Or what you will be doing, or why."
He lowered his head.
"Or why you now trust that snake more than us."
"That is not true."
"Judging by how thick as thieves you two have become, and that we have both been shut out from your dealings? I strongly disagree."
"I do not trust Winthrop. I need his help, and he needs mine."
"So that's what this is?" said Jaheira, her voice growing more disdainful. "Mutual benefit?" She folded her arms. "You do not wish to consider if perhaps the true reason you are working with him is that you are either being manipulated, or have taken complete leave of your senses?"
Gorion closed his eyes and slowly lifted his head to face her before opening them. His stony expression was gone, replaced with a cold, icy glare to match Jaheira's.
Jaheira's fingers tug into the skin of her forearms. Her lower jaw trembled. She opened her mouth to speak again and felt Khalid's hand on her shoulder.
The Calishite slowly moved past her, stopping directly in front of Gorion. The wizard's glare immediately faded, his features softening as he looked at his old friend.
After a moment, Khalid reached out and gently grasped Gorion by the forearm under the elbow.
"If you have need of us, don't hesitate to send word."
He gave a small smile. After a moment, Gorion returned it, grasping Khalid's hand in his own.
He released the handshake, picked up and shouldered his pack, and then made for the door.
Jaheira stood unmoving, her arms still folded across her chest and staring at the spot behind the desk where he had been seconds ago.
Gorion stopped in front of and slightly to her right. He lowered his head, closing his eyes, then turned to look at her face. Eventually, after nearly a full minute, Jaheira met his gaze.
"I promise you," he said softly. "One day, when it is over, I will tell you everything. All of it."
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned and gave Khalid a slight nod. Gorion looked back to Jaheira again, blinked once, then turned and left the room.
Her eyes followed him as he crossed the short, narrow hallway to the stairwell. She stayed still, listening to his soft footsteps descending the stairs.
Twenty-two years later, Khalid and Jaheira were in Baldur's Gate, preparing to travel south to Nashkel. They received an urgent letter in the mail.
Its contents were brief.
'Destroy this message after you have read it, and do not speak of it to anyone.
Gorion has asked to meet you at the Friendly Arm Inn in a few days. He will be accompanied by his son.'
There was no signature.
..
"Jaheira?"
"Hm?"
"Are you alright?"
Jaheira blinked, looking up at her husband's face. She hesitated, then leaned her quarterstaff against the side of the chair next to his and sat down, sinking slightly into the soft, cushiony material.
"It has been too long."
"He is only a day late."
"He has never once been late before. Not once."
"He will be here soon. There's no need to worry."
Jaheira quietly leaned forward, interlocking her fingers and placing her hands on the table. Her expression did not change, but her knuckles whitened as her hands tightened their grip on each other.
"He will explain everything when he gets here," said Khalid reassuringly, placing his hand on Jaheira's. "We will not leave without him. Berrun can wait."
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. After a moment, Jaheira nodded and looked up at him. They smiled simultaneously.
"Well aren't yous the swee'ust an' lovelee'is couple I have seen all week!" said a gnomish barmaid behind them. Khalid jumped, released Jaheira's hand and spun around in his seat to face her while Jaheira's smile instantly became a frown. "You young'uns remind me of myself and my second hubby some years back," the barmaid added, seemingly not noticing either of their reactions.
"Well, here you are." She moved between them and set down two glasses of white wine on the table. "From your friend."
Jaheira immediately sat up, her eyes widening. "What 'friend'?"
The barmaid hesitated, turning from Jaheira to Khalid with her serving tray held to her chest. "Urm...I don't know. He didn't give his name. Just said he wanted to buy some drinks for his friends." She paused. "Oh, and he gave me a message for you." She held up a small slip of parchment which Jaheira snatched within a half-second of seeing, then nervously bowed and hurried away.
"Who is it?" said Khalid, glancing at the wine glasses. "Gorion?"
"No name again," replied Jaheira. "It just says..."
..
"...grounds outside the inn entrance at midnight."
Imoen stared at Dorean, her meal left cooling and forgotten in front of her. "Why there?" she said slowly. "And why midnight?"
"It's a few hours from now. If we're lucky, they will head there early." He paused to take another sip of Evermead. "Should give you plenty of time to get into and search the room."
"You want me to break into their room while you meet with them alone?" Imoen asked, speaking even slower than before.
Dorean paused. "Yes. I've checked, you can't miss it. It's the only royal suite in the inn. Takes up about half the top floor."
Setting her knife and fork down, Imoen began rubbing her elbows. "...I don't know about this, Dorean. Can't we just go talk to them?"
"And I will. At midnight." Dorean said simply. He blinked, realizing that his tankard was now empty. He looked back to Imoen. "Will you do this, Imoen? Please?"
Imoen paused, biting her bottom lip, then closed her eyes and sighed. It took her a long moment before she opened her eyes again. "Alright. But you'll owe me."
"I will," Dorean nodded, glancing at his tankard again. "I could actually go for another one of these..."
"Dorean."
He hiccupped. "How much did you say an Evermead costs in here? Twenty, was it?"
"Dorean."
"What?"
"You didn't write anything in that note that might help them find you here, did ya?"
Dorean blinked. "No. Not unless they could track me by my scent on it. Why?"
Feeling slightly groggy, it took a moment for him to realize that Imoen was not looking at him but behind him.
He paused, then slowly turned around in his seat and looked up into the oblong face of a woman with blonde-brown hair, pointed ears and cyan eyes.
"Where is he?"
Dorean blinked, setting down his tankard and bringing both hands to rest on his legs. His eyes moved briefly from her face to her hands; there was a crushed slip of parchment in her fist. He paused, his expression calm and bored-looking.
"Where is he?" Jaheira repeated coldly.
Imoen looked quickly from one to the other, then at Khalid as the latter hurried up behind Jaheira.
When Dorean still said nothing, Jaheira uncrumbled the note and held it up to his face.
"This is yours. Do not deny it, or that you know who I am speaking of." She lowered the note, dropping it to the floor.
Khalid placed a hand on her shoulder. "J-Jaheira, p-p-please-"
"Where is he?" Jaheira said again, jerking her shoulder to shrug off his hand.
As the seconds went by in silence, Imoen looked frantically to Dorean. The dwarf had gone completely still, eyes staring blankly at a point several inches to Jaheira's left.
I need to do something.
She opened her mouth to speak.
"He's in a clearing in the Lion's Way, where we left him," said Dorean.
The other three froze, staring at him. Dorean slowly lifted his head to meet Jaheira's gaze, reading every inch of her face.
Jaheira's expression had gone slack. The thin, close-lipped grimace was still there, but her eyes were no longer flashing in anger.
"We had just crossed the causeway from Candlekeep when we were attacked by gibberlings," said Dorean, speaking slowly and sounding more calm than he felt. "They turned out to be illusions. My father then told me to get off the road and follow him through the undergrowth. When we got to the clearing, we were ambushed." He paused, glancing at Khalid's stricken expression. "The leader said that they would spare him if he gave me up. He refused." Dorean paused again, looking back to Jaheira. "We returned to the clearing in the morning and buried him there."
Neither of the half-elves moved, appearing to the world to have been petrified without the appearance of stone. Jaheira continued to stare at Dorean, her expression now blank. She blinked once, twice, three times, then lowered her gaze to the floor. Glancing at Khalid again, Dorean noted that he had gone pale as a ghost.
That seems good enough, he said silently to himself.
But then another voice in his head said, Is it? They approached me, remember?
"It wasn't luck or chance that caused this," he said tonelessly, causing the half-elves and Imoen to look at him. "They were waiting for us to leave. They knew what he would do upon realizing the trick with the gibberlings. They also knew which direction he would take; through the forest and straight for the Friendly Arm."
He paused, again moving his eyes from Jaheira's face to Khalid's. The first inner voice, the one that approved of their reactions, screamed at him to stop, but he pushed onwards, fuelled by the alcohol in his system.
"They knew him well. Very well, in fact. Which made me wonder if they knew him at all." He paused. "If they did not, in fact, got their information on him from someone else."
The inn continued to bustle, yet somehow a silence seemed to have fallen on all four of them. Imoen straightened, her eyes wide and staring at Dorean. She looked back to Khalid and Jaheira, suddenly noting that both of them were armed and standing very close to the dwarf.
Dorean's expression remained calm and bored, looking up at Jaheira's face. The slackened expression was gone, along with all emotion and feeling.
The image of Gorion collapsing backwards in a spray of red filled his vision yet again.
The hell with it.
"I noticed that you have taken the royal suite here," he said casually. "You must have had to pay a lot of money for it." He widened his eyes slightly, staring straight into Jaheira's. "Are you celebrating something?"
One second passed.
Then her hands rushed forward, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, and he was lifted up and slammed down onto the table. Dishes and cutlery broke and clattered on the floor as fingers reached for his neck.
"J-JAHEIRA!" shouted Khalid, rushing forward and grabbing her around her middle.
"Dorean!" cried Imoen, leaping up and throwing herself across the table to grab Jaheira's forearm.
"J-Jaheira, please c-c-calm down-"
"Let him go!" Imoen pulled on the arm with all her might, failing to budge it in the slightest.
Jaheira silently fought Khalid's attempts to pull her backwards, maintaining her hold on the dwarf's neck.
Khalid gave a quick look around. Every eye in the inn was on them now, and Bentley Mirrorshade had left the counter and was hurrying towards them.
Even as his heart was racing in his chest, Dorean maintained his calm expression, forcing himself not to raise his hands to the fingers around his neck. He did not blink, rapidly scanning and noting every detail in the face now inches from his.
Eyes narrowed and flashing. Yet her lips are still closed and unmoved.
Enraged, yet still in shock.
"It wasn't you," he whispered.
Jaheira's eyes widened in realization, then narrowed again. Her lower jaw quivered, and she began to tremble from head to foot.
Then she released him, standing up so swiftly and suddenly that Khalid released her in surprise and staggered backwards.
Jaheira immediately turned around and walked quickly towards the stairs. Two guards moved to intercept her, then stepped aside with bewildered expressions at a shouted order from Bentley. The innkeeper waited until she was gone, then moved over to Dorean, Imoen and Khalid.
"Anyone get hurt?" he asked sagely.
"No...I am fine, thank you," said Dorean, sitting up on the table and rubbing his throat as Imoen moved to stand next to him.
"So what was that about?" said Bentley, folding his arms. "I like you kids, but ya know the rules say no fighting."
Khalid opened his mouth, but Dorean interrupted him.
"It's not her fault. I started it."
Bentley, Imoen and Khalid all looked at him. The innkeeper cocked his head.
"I...accused her of being involved in the death of...a friend of ours. He was killed a few days ago." He looked at Khalid, watching the man's expression. Bentley paused, looking at Khalid as well, then sighed and uncrossed his arms, bringing one of his small hands to his forehead and rubbing it. After a moment, the half-elf lowered his head and turned to the innkeeper.
"I am t-t-terribly s-sorry about this..."
"It's alright," said Bentley, uncrossing his arms and waving a hand at Khalid. He was still looking at Dorean. "I won't hold it against ya. Either o' ya. But I'd appreciate it if ya both go to your rooms now." He nodded to a couple of barmaids, then turned around and made his way back towards the counter.
For a moment, there was silence between the remaining three individuals. They stayed still, listening to the barmaids quietly gather the fallen dishes and cutlery. Then Khalid slowly lifted his head and turned to Dorean and Imoen.
"Bentley and Gellana Mirrorshade are our friends. When we arrived here, they insisted on giving us their best room." He paused, looking at Dorean, and when he spoke again his voice was considerably softer. "I will talk to her. If you wish to speak to us again, we will be here in morning."
He turned and walked away, keeping his gaze lowered to avoid the stares of the other patrons and customers.
Dorean waited for him to leave, paused for a long moment, then hopped off the table and headed for the stairs. Imoen followed closely and quietly behind him.
They both glanced at Montaron as they passed his table. Aside from a raised eyebrow, his expression was one of utter indifference.
..
Khalid ascended the stairs slowly, his face pale and expression clouded.
He paused on the stairs leading from the second to the third floor of the inn, then suddenly staggered and grabbed the handrail with both hands. He fell to his knees, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving up and down. It took him several minutes to regain control of himself, and eventually the colour returned to his face and he was able to stand up again without convulsing.
Grateful that no one was around to see him, Khalid resumed climbing the stairs and reached the top floor.
He passed a nobleman dressed in extravagant gold-coloured clothing, ignoring his indignant complaints of loud noises coming from Khalid's room. The half-elf pushed open the unlocked double doors at the end of the hall, and entered, closing them behind him.
The spacious, luxuriously furnished and decorated Royal Suite of the Friendly Arm was now in shambles. Fragments, pieces and splinters of glass, ceramic and wood were strewn all over the floor. The remains of a wardrobe lay in a corner where it had been violently flung, and the roof of the king-sized bed had collapsed onto the mattress.
In the middle of it all was Jaheira. She was seated on the floor, her head lowered and hands resting on her knees. Her quarterstaff lay beside her where she had dropped it.
Khalid paused, then quietly walked over and sat down beside her. She did not look up or move.
"I'll explain to Bentley in the morning, and pay him for the damages," he said softly.
"No. You won't."
"He is our friend, Jaheira. And this is his inn."
"He is a fool," she replied harshly. "Bernard, Ribald, Firecam, Khelben, Elminster...they are all fools, Khalid. And Gorion is the worst of all of them."
Khalid paused, turning to look at his wife. "You don't mean that."
"Yes I do!" she suddenly shouted, lifting her head to look at him with blazing eyes. "He abandoned us, Khalid! Disappeared for twenty-two years! Twenty. Two. Years! And then he comes back into our lives only for our help...and that dwarf...accuses us of..." She trailed off, looking away from him. Khalid paused, then slowly turned his gaze to the door.
"He is scared," he said, his voice lower and softer than before. "He doesn't know who to turn to or trust. What he said...he wasn't thinking properly. He couldn't have." He paused. "He's only a child, Jaheira."
There was silence and stillness. Then, noticing Jaheira's shoulders and arms begining to tremble, Khalid silently leaned into and wrapped his arms around her.
She stayed still for a moment, then ceased resisting and turned to him, her head resting sideways on his shoulder. Khalid curled his fingers in hers, he held Jaheira firmly but gently as she began to weep in his arms. He closed his eyes and laid his chin on her shoulder. As her sobs became louder, Khalid embraced her fully, and she buried her face in his chest as an anguished wail escaped her throat, muffled against his armour.
..
The room previously occupied by Tarnesh turned out to be one of the Friendly Arm's noble suites. Like in the common room, all of the furniture, from the beds to the chairs, was rather low for humans.
The suite came with a bathroom and hot water, for which Imoen was very thankful. Despite it having been only a few days, it had felt more like a week to her since she left Candlekeep.
Unfortunately, the water was lukewarm by the time she was able to use the bath; Dorean had told her to wait at the end of the hallway while he unlocked the door to the suite, then spent fifteen minutes checking it before allowing her in.
Imoen emerged from the bathroom a half-hour later, dressed in a white-coloured, skirted chemise from the one of the wardrobes, to find Dorean pushing a bedside table in front of the door. She stopped at the bathroom doorway, quietly watching him.
Having positioned the top of the table underneath the doorknob, Dorean then moved a chair next to his bed, removed and placed his belt on the chair along with one of his knives. The dwarf then removed a smoking pipe from his pack and turned the head cloakwise to remove it. He then placed the blowpipe on the chair next to the belt and knife. Finally, with an audible sigh, he dropped his pack on the floor next to the bed.
He paused, then removed and pocketed his hair pins. The tight bun at the back of his head unravelled, allowing his long brown hair to fall onto and across his shoulders.
"You should get some sleep," he said quietly. Without looking at her, he climbed onto his own bed and sat up with his back against the head-board, of which he had draped his cloak over. "We need to be up at dawn tomorrow."
Imoen did not move. "Are you okay?" She asked gently.
"She didn't really hurt me."
"I know. It's not what I meant." She took a few steps closer to him, tilting her head to the side. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Dorean hesitated for a long moment before looking up at her.
"I'm fine, Imoen," he said softly. "Really. Go to sleep."
She paused, lowered her head, then quietly nodded and got into her bed.
Dorean stayed still without so much as turning his head, listening to her breathing becoming slower and more gradual as fatigue and a full stomach sent Imoen off to sleep. He remained that way for several more minutes, then leaned backwards and lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
"I made a mistake back there, didn't I?" he whispered.
He closed his eyes, sighed inaudibly, then reached into his pack on the floor beside the bed and took out a book, roll of parchment, ink bottle and quill-pen.
Resting the book on his lap as a surface for the parchment, he dipped the quill into the bottle and began to write.
..
Tarnesh paused to glance over his shoulder. It was now a few hours past midnight. Nearly all of the guests and staff had gone to their rooms and, as he had mentioned earlier to Imoen and 'Dorn', all of the guards had been posted on the walls. There was no sound except for the soft crackling of the wall-mounted torches and his footsteps echoing slightly in the needlessly large and high-ceilinged corridor despite his slow, careful stride.
He slowed down upon reaching the passageway leading to his room. Once more, he checked behind him and saw no one. Then, taking one step every two seconds, he moved up to the door of the room now occupied by the dwarf and girl he had met earlier.
After turning his head left and right to check both ends of the corridor, Tarnesh held his hands out to the doorknob and whispered the words to a spell.
He smirked upon hearing the audible 'click' of the lock, looked both ways down the corridor again, then placed his hand on the knob and started to turn it when a green-sleeved forearm wrapped around his throat from behind.
His eyes widening, Tarnesh instinctively raised his hands to the arm, but in the next half-second was forced to the ground as his attacker turned sideways and fell to his own knees, planting one of them on Tarnesh's thigh to prevent him from thrashing out with his feet.
Unable to move or even gasp for breath, Tarnesh's bugged-out eyes flew upwards to meet his assailant's.
Xzar gave Tarnesh a wide, close-lipped smile to accompany his bright green stare, then tightened his grip and wrenched sideways. There was a soft 'crack', barely audible over the crackling of the torches.
He stayed still for a moment, then slowly lowered Tarnesh's head to the ground, releasing the chokehold. Tilting his head to the side, Xzar used his index and middle fingers to close Tarnesh's eye-lids. He then reached into and removed three parchment scrolls from the dead man's robes.
Standing up, Xzar tucked two of the scrolls under his arm before unrolling the first one. He looked it and the second scroll over briefly before rolling them back up and stowing them in his own robes. He paused upon unrolling the third and final scroll, his eyes moving rapidly back and forth in silent reading. Slowly, the corners of his lips rose to his ears in a wide grin.
When he had finished reading, he lowered the scroll and raised his head.
"You can come out now," he purred.
Xzar stayed still, standing over Tarnesh's body with the scroll in his hands, facing the opposite wall. After a moment, Jaheira emerged from the end of the corridor while Khalid appeared from the other side.
They approached swiftly and quietly, Jaheira clasping her quarterstaff in both hands with the front end pointed up towards Xzar, and Khalid with his sword held in his right hand at his side while his shield remained on his back.
They both stopped several paces away from Xzar, appraising him with caution and suspicion, though Khalid's face showed more of the former and Jaheira's the latter. The wizard turned his head first to Khalid and then to Jaheira, giving them both a languid smile.
"Who are you?" said Jaheira, her voice quiet yet demanding.
Xzar turned his head slightly to face her, keeping his body facing towards the wall opposite of Dorean and Imoen's room door. At his height, the wizard was a full head taller than both of the half-elves.
He opened his mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it, his smile fading as he focused on Jaheira's face, noting the reddened area around her eyes.
Jaheira blinked at his silence for a half-second before her eyes narrowed again, and she took a step forward, tightening her grip on her quarterstaff. "Answer me."
Xzar looked away, facing the wall again, and lowered his head, seemingly lost in deep thought and forgetting where he was or why. Khalid and Jaheira exchanged glances, then advanced even further on the green-robed wild-haired wizard.
"What are your names?" said Xzar abruptly, lifting his head and looking from Jaheira to Khalid.
Again the half-elves stopped, glancing at each other. Then Jaheira's glare returned with renewed intensity, and she marched straight up to Xzar, her quarterstaff stopping inches from his neck.
"Tell us now, lest you find yourself explaining this to the guards," she growled, jerking her head at the body beneath Xzar's feet.
Slowly, Xzar turned his head to face her, ignoring his hair brushing against the quarterstaff. He paused, then wordlessly held out the open scroll in his hand.
Jaheira froze, her eyes darting to the scroll and then back to Xzar. Khalid blinked, then quickly stepped forward and held the blade of his sword next to Xzar's shoulder, inches from the back of his neck. The wizard remained still, his gaze focused on Jaheira's face.
After a long pause, Jaheira lifted her chin at the tall man. "Hold it up in front of me."
Xzar frowned at her. "You are very rude," he said nonchalantly. "Especially to a stranger what done you no harm." He closed his eyes and sighed dramatically, his shoulders rising and falling, then did as Jaheira asked, holding out the scroll with one hand while the other remained loosely at his side.
There was silence for a few moments as Jaheira, keeping her quarterstaff trained on Xzar, scanned the scroll's contents. She paused for a long moment, her eyes moving to the door of Dorean and Imoen's room, before shifting her gaze back to Xzar.
"That does not answer who you are or why you are here," she said coldly.
Xzar tilted his head to the side, the movement so sudden that Khalid flinched and barely stopped himself from cutting the back of the wizard's neck. Xzar gave him a sideways glance before turning his gaze to the wall once again.
"I was protecting them, of course," he said, his voice tinged with both bemusement and annoyance. "They are my partners, after all."
"P-partners?" said Khalid. He grimaced as Xzar turned his head to face him, wearing a small smile.
"Yes. Partners," he said, lifting a finger in the air and wagging it back and forth, seemingly oblivious to both the sword and quarterstaff inches from his neck. "People working together for a common goal." He clasped his hands together against his chest. "I have been summoned by Berrun Ghastkill, the mayor of Nashkel, to investigate and solve the problems in his region," he said cheerfully.
Another moment passed as Khalid and Jaheira exchanged glances again before looking back to Xzar who was now smiling to himself with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes.
"And what interest do the Zhentarim have in the iron crisis?" said Jaheira, her tone icy.
Xzar went very still, staring blankly at the wall. Both half-elves tensed, tightening their grip on their weapons. After a moment, Xzar visibly relaxed and smiled again.
"We just want to know what is going on," he replied. "No more than the Harpers do, eh?"
Muscles tightened in Jaheira's jaw and her eyes narrowed even further. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Khalid.
"What about t-t-them?" He inclined his head toward the door.
Xzar looked down at Khalid, his expression almost friendly despite the sword at his neck. "I asked if they would accompany me to Nashkel and assist me, and they said yes." He paused, lifting his gaze upwards. "It is just a guess, but I believe that they have nowhere to go." He looked back at Khalid. "And no one to turn to." He added, smiling. "You could almost say that I took pity on them."
Khalid's eye-lid twitched involuntarily as he stared into the wizard's bright-green eyes. Xzar turned away suddenly, rubbing his chin, then abruptly faced Jaheira, moving so quickly that Khalid again narrowly stopped himself from striking him.
"I heard of what happened earlier tonight in the common room. Quite da ruckus ya caused," he said, his voice taking on a child-like, mischievous tone. He giggled at Jaheira's frozen expression, and at her hands tightening even further on her quarterstaff.
"I am just guessing again, but...you two may not be taking them with you on your travels, yes?" He brought an index finger to his lips in a display of cheekiness, then lowered his hand, smiling at Jaheira. "Do not worry then, my dear. I will look after them for you."
Out of the corner of her eye, Jaheira saw Khalid's eyes narrow to slits and his mouth parting to bare his teeth. She gave him a warning look and a quick shake of her head, then turned her gaze back to Xzar's smiling face.
After a long moment, she straightened from her combat-ready stance, bringing her quarterstaff to her side and planting one end of the weapon on the ground. She looked at her husband again, and after a moment's hesitation, he lowered his sword to his side, though he did not sheathe it, eyes still narrowed and blazing.
"You should do something about the body," Jaheira said coldly, looking up at Xzar. The wizard blinked, then looked down at Tarnesh.
"Oh," he said, as though he had only noticed it was there. "I should indeed." He lifted his head and gave Jaheira another smile, this one more friendly and pleasant than before. "Thank you." He bent down, placing one hand under Tarnesh's arm.
"Aren't you going to ask your partner to help you?" said Jaheira.
"Hmm? Oh, no need," said Xzar without looking up. "I can manage on my own."
Removing a vial from his robes, he removed its stopper, downed the contents and put away the now-empty vial, all in one smooth motion. He then lifted Tarnesh's body effortlessly. The dead man's neck hung at a grotesque angle, lolling from side to side.
Standing up with his load tucked under one arm, Xzar turned first to Khalid and then to Jaheira, his friendly demeanor unchanged. "Well, I should get rid of this. Then it's off to bed. The hour is late, and I have to wake up early. Important assignment and all that." He gave the half-elves smiles and polite nods which they did not return, then cheerfully walked past Jaheira and headed down the corridor.
The duo watched him out of sight. Then, after a long moment of silence, they both lifted their heads and turned their eyes upwards.
Montaron wordlessly stared back at them from his position in the ceiling rafters, a throwing knife held loosely in his right hand. His black eyes moved slowly from Jaheira's face to Khalid's, his expression blank and emotionless.