Chapter 22
Dorean opened his eyes, blinking at the vaguely familiar ceiling. It took him almost a minute to realize that he was lying on a bed.
Was it all just a bad dream?
Noticing something from the corner of his eye, the dwarf turned his head and spotted Gorion only a half dozen paces away. He immediately tried to get up but his body refused to budge. Grunting in surprise, Dorean futilely willed himself to move, then stopped when he saw that Gorion was speaking to someone; another dwarf, shorter and thinner than himself.
He hesitated. Then, his heart sinking, he slowly lowered his head back onto the pillow.
No. This is a dream.
He remained still for a moment, wallowing in despondence, then reluctantly moved his eyes to observe the scene before him.
He watching Gorion, dressed for travel and carrying a rucksack, giving his younger self a written list of instructions.
I remember this...Twenty years ago. You were gone for three months.. And during that time, I-
His eyes misted over as his mind automatically went blank. With a wordless sigh, he turned his head towards the ceiling.
Even in a dream, huh? Guess I can't call that a bad thing.
"It shouldn't take very long," said Gorion. "I will return as soon as I can."
Young Dorean did not respond. He kept his head down, staring blankly at the list Gorion had given him, silent and emotionless.
I don't know if I was angry at him for leaving me here. Or...if I felt anything at all.
Standing up, Gorion attempted to speak again but then closed his mouth. He looked down sadly at the little dwarf, then slowly turned away.
Lifting his head off the pillow, Dorean watched his foster father leave the room. There were still traces of red in his greying hair.
You never told me about it. Where you went, what you did. His gaze lowered to his own chest, upon which lay the clasp of his cloak. He then laid his head back and stared up at the ceiling.
"So much that you never told me," he said softly. "And now you never will."
Something moved in the corner of his eye again. He turned his head to look.
His younger self was standing next to the bed, staring straight at him.
White-hot, stabbing pain lanced outwards from deep within his chest. His limbs twitching violently, Dorean's eyes widened in terror as they met those of his younger self.
Twin pools of gold filled his vision, blinding him.
..
The golden light suddenly receded to reveal Jaheira looming over him.
Her hands were around his neck.
For one second, Dorean stared at her. With a hoarse cry, he thrashed out like a cornered animal. The half-elf swiftly took hold of his shoulders, pinning him onto the bed.
"Be still, I-" Jaheira saw his left hand reach down to his boot and barely leapt back just in time to avoid his dagger.
Slashing wildly, Dorean rose quickly off the bed and made to lunge at her.
Get her now while she's unarmed, get her-!
"Dorean!"
He froze in mid-lunge, and in that instant, a pink-clad mass appeared in front of him, hands grasping at his shoulders.
"It's okay! You're okay now, she's here to help!"
Dorean stared at her. Then pain shot through his entire upper body, from his chest to his hands. The dagger clattered onto the floor as he fell back onto the bed, gasping for air.
Imoen leaned over him, then turned anxiously to Jaheira. For a few seconds, the latter hesitated, her expression blank. Then she stepped forward.
"Move aside."
Shifting next to the head of the bed, Imoen lowered her face closer to Dorean's.
"Lie still, okay?" she implored, her voice trembling.
For a half-second, Jaheira glanced at them both. Then she placed her hands on Dorean's neck again. The dwarf's hands twitched, his eyes fixed on hers. She returned his gaze coolly, applying her healing magic.
After twenty seconds which felt to Dorean like over a minute, the suffocating pressure in his throat lifted, along with pain in his chest.
Jaheira then reached for his face, causing the dwarf to flinch violently and his left hand to curl into a fist. Maintaining eye contact, she placed her hand over his nose and mouth, and Dorean realized that his face was covered in blood. Tingles of pain rippled through it like prickling needles as she repaired his broken nose.
Finally, still keeping her eyes on his, Jaheira placed her hands on his own. A different type of pain, slight and oddly soothing, flowed through his fingers, palms and wrists, mending the damage caused by Karlat.
"It is done," she said flatly, standing up and stepping back away from the bed. Dorean hesitated, glanced at Imoen, then slowly sat up.
He immediately noticed Khalid standing near the open doorway, holding Jaheira's quarterstaff. His sword and shield were gone.
"He found and carried you here as quickly as he could manage," said Jaheira, seeing Dorean looking at him. Her expression, like her voice, was cold and blank. "Your trachea had been damaged. You were beginning to suffocate."
"Your face had gone blue," said Imoen, sitting down in the chair that Jaheira had quickly vacated when Dorean regained consciousness. "I thought you were dying."
I was.
Dorean lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked at Khalid and bowed his head.
"Thank you, Khalid. You saved my life."
The Calishite's eyes widened, and he looked from Dorean to Imoen and Jaheira. He then lowered his head, looking down at the floor.
"N-no n-need t-t-to thank me. I-it was the l-least I c-c-could do."
Dorean stared at him for a moment before becoming very aware that Jaheira had not taken her eyes off him ever since he woke up and attacked her. Imoen did not seem to have noticed; she was standing next to Dorean, one hand rubbing his back while checking his throat and nose with the other.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I...don't know what I was thinking."
Jaheira stared coldly at him, then silently went over to stand next to and peek out the small window. Dorean became acutely aware of the noise emitting from outside.
"A large crowd and a score of Flaming Fist mercenaries," said Jaheira. "They appear to be surrounding the inn."
Shit. "What do we do?" asked Dorean.
Jaheira simply stared at him again. Dorean became uncomfortably aware of the fact that Khalid was now standing directly between him, Imoen and the door.
"They're downstairs," said Khalid, turning around and moving to stand in the doorway. "And they're talking to Kagain."
"I can't hear anything," said Imoen. "Oh. Elven hearing, right."
"Be quiet, child," said Jaheira, moving to stand beside her husband. Imoen frowned at her. Her right hand was still rubbing Dorean's back. The dwarf glanced at his roommate, but did not attempt to stop it. They both waited quietly, watching the two Harpers listen to the commotion below.
"It is Kagain," whispered Imoen. "Listen."
Dorean did not need to focus; as muffled as it was by the distance and floor between them, Kagain's loud, gruff voice was very much discernable.
"It's a temple guard," said Khalid. "He wants Kagain to go see the governor immediately, and..." He hesitated. "And to bring his new partners."
He and Jaheira exchanged looks. Dorean did the same with Imoen, then slowly slid off the bed and retrieved his dagger, turning it to hide the blade behind his hand.
"What'd Kagain say?" asked Imoen as she heard the dwarven mercenary's voice again.
Khalid squinted in concentration for a moment before leaning back with a look of slight sheepishness.
"...something not very nice," he answered. He went grim and quiet again. Dorean and Imoen heard the sounds of movement below. They both recognized it; a group of people fanning out to form a line.
Silence lingered for a moment, in the room and below. Then it was broken by loud, clanking, ironshod footsteps. His senses heightened by the tension and from years of listening out for approaching footsteps in Candlekeep, Dorean recognized them as Kagain's.
Half a minute later, the dwarf appeared in the doorway. His armour, helmet, shield, axe and beard were all blood-spattered, and his face bore an ugly expression. For a long moment, he simply glared at the four of them, his fingers curling around the haft of his axe.
"Ya heard, right?" he said, looking up at Khalid and Jaheira. "Hurry up an' get down then."
Dorean hesitated, then raised his hand. "I...really don't think it'll be a good idea for me to do that."
A muscle twitched in Kagain's jaw. He pointed the spike of his axe at him.
"I ain't in the soddin' mood fer this," he growled. "Get down there now, before I-"
He saw their eyes widen and move to look behind him, and whirled around with axe and shield raised.
Xzar was standing right behind him.
Kagain stopped himself just in time, the blade of his axe hovering a few inches from the wizard's chest.
Xzar did not appear to notice; his head slowly turned to look at the doorframe, his gaze lingering on the broken lock. Kagain gaped at him for a few seconds before cursing loudly and lowering his axe.
"What the hell did ya do that for, ya friggin' lunatic!? Are ya tryin' ta get yaself killed!?"
Xzar ignored him. He continued to stare at the lock, his head tilting very slowly to one side. Kagain glared at him, breathing heavily, before looking at the lock himself.
"Which one of ya did this?"
"Urm...that was me," said Imoen. Everyone turned to look at her, Xzar's head swivelling slowly on its tilted axis. "I blasted it."
"With what?" Xzar asked, his voice so soft that it was barely audible. His eyes shone intensely, and Dorean subconsciously fingered the hidden knife in his left hand.
"A scroll," said Imoen. "Magic Missile," she added. She looked around the room and spotted Gorion's pack. "I found it in there."
"Well, why'd ya do that for?" Kagain said loudly. Dorean was suddenly glad that the man's attention was diverted, thus preventing him from seeing the look Xzar directed his way.
"'Cos Monty locked me in, that's why!" Imoen retorted, raising her arms in the air. "He dragged me by my shirt across the floor, and then threw me in here! Like I was just a bag or something! And then he broke the key in the lock!"
Kagain suddenly went quiet, his eyes narrowing intensely at Imoen.
"Where is Montaron now?" he asked softly.
Khalid glanced at Dorean before answering. "Last I saw him, he was in the passage under the inn."
Kagain became even more quiet, his eyes lowering to half-lids. His large, calloused thumb tapped the haft of his axe. His eyes moved from Khalid to Jaheira to Imoen, finally resting on Dorean.
Then he spoke, his voice far too calm.
"Wait here untill I get back. An' if anyone else shows up, keep. Ya mouths. Shut."
He glared intently at them before leaving. Dorean noticed that he took care not to brush against Xzar on the way out.
They stood in silence, watching the wizard brush his index finger over the lock. Nobody, not even Imoen, ventured to ask him why he was dressed in the garb of a peddler.
..
Moving at a quick stride, Kagain reached the door leading to the storeroom. He pushed it open and swore loudly upon seeing the body of the innkeeper lying on the floor just behind the secret door.
After glancing over his shoulder to ensure that nobody was watching or following him, Kagain stepped through the doorway and pulled it closed behind him. He paused to glower down at the dead man before stepping over the pool of blood and moving quickly down the stairs.
"Montaron?" he called out, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. "Hey, answer me, ya mutt. You in here?"
After a moment, he heard the sound of something being dragged across stone and dirt. Striding down the passage, he soon found its source; Karlat, bound hand and foot by long, thick rope, being dragged by Montaron.
The halfling did not respond at all to Kagain, neither turning around nor speaking at his approach. The dwarf's gaze lingered on him for a few seconds before looking down at Karlat and seeing his shredded face.
"Clangeddin's beard. What happened ta him?"
"Powdered glass."
Kagain gave a grim hiss. "Ya did that?"
"No."
Kagain fell silent, and the sound of dwarf-dragging echoed uninterrupted for several seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and more composed.
"I found the innkeep. That you?"
"No."
Kagain went very still, eyes boring into the halfling's back and his thumb tapping the haft of his axe again. Montaron did not cease pulling the rope, nor did he turn around.
"Ya already know how ta get past the barrier, do ya?"
"Uh-huh."
"So ya've already known about this place."
"Mm."
There was another moment of silence.
"I gotta go," Kagain said at last. He slowly began to turn around, then stopped half-way, facing the wall and not looking at the Zhent or his captive.
"When I get back, I wanna talk ta Karlat. Got some things I'd like ta settle with him." He paused. " An' there's some things I'd like ta talk about with you as well." He paused again. "One'a them bein' the girl."
For a few seconds, Montaron stopped dragging Karlat. Kagain watched him for a moment before he slowly turned around and returned the way he came.
..
Eldoth Kron was nervous.
He did not enjoy being nervous, and hated to display it. Doing his best to appear mildly curious instead, he watched the party leaving the Red Sheaf, his handsome features creasing into a frown at the sight of the escort of temple guards and Flaming Fist mercenaries.
"We have been gone awhile," he said, his voice calm and detached. "Skie would be getting restless."
"Return to her, then. I will stay with these people."
Eldoth frowned and glanced at Safana; contrary to his own nervousness, the proximity and numbers of armed men only seemed to excite her further; she was staring at the party so intensely that Eldoth became certain that if any of them looked her way, that their cover would be instantly blown.
He was about to take a few steps away from Safana when he noticed something:
The half-elf woman passing a blood-stained sword and shield to her husband, who took them with a grateful smile and handed her a quarterstaff in return.
Upon seeing this, for just a fraction of a second, Safana's proud, confident demeanour faded, and her expression appeared to soften.
Eldoth went still for a long moment, watching his partner-in-crime, before coming to a decision.
"... I think I will stay for now, however. It may be best that we keep our distance this time."
Safana nodded distractedly, her attention still focused on the party. She started to tail them without looking to see if Eldoth would follow her.
The bard watched her with narrowed eyes, then stepped forward beside her and looped her arm in his.
..
"Are you sure you're okay?" Imoen asked.
"I'm sure."
"Are you feeling dizzy? Can you walk?"
"I'm walking now, Imoen."
"I could c-c-carry you," Khalid said meekly.
Dorean froze as though struck by a lightning bolt, his face instantly going blank.
The entire party came to a halt, along with the guards and mercenaries escorting them. Khalid's eyes darted wildly from Dorean to Jaheira and Imoen.
"D-d-d-did I s-say s-s-something wrong?" He paled upon seeing that the dwarf's entire body was trembling.
The memory of being borne across the causeway from Candlekeep came rushing to the front of Dorean's mind. Khalid's offer resounded in his head, over and over. Dark, ugly thoughts coursed through his mind.
Did you know? Did you see him carry me across? Is this why you said it now? Are you trying to use it? Use my grief?
"What the hell's wrong with him?" Kagain asked, turning around to glower at the younger dwarf.
"What is the hold-up?" the temple guard-leader demanded.
Looking around anxiously at all of them, Imoen crouched down in front of Dorean and placed her hands on his trembling shoulders.
"Dorean?"
The dwarf did not answer her. He stared back into her eyes, his expression blank and his fingers twitching.
Imoen hesitated, then moved her face closer, nearly touching his nose with her own.
"Little brother?"
He blinked rapidly many times. Then the light returned to his eyes, and he looked up into her eyes.
After a long moment, he closed his eyes and breathed in and out, slowly and deeply, before half-turning to address the half-elves behind him.
"No, Khalid, thank you. I...I am fine now." He paused. "You are an excellent healer, Jaheira" he added to Jaheira's navel.
He turned around, not daring to meet her eyes. Kagain watched him for a moment before he turned away with a disgusted snort and spat off to the side.
"Shakin' like a damn leaf."
Imoen glared at the back of his head. Dorean ignored him.
They quietly resumed their journey through the streets of Beregost, Dorean barely resisting the temptation to sneak a glance at Jaheira behind him.
She knows.
His eyes narrowed to slits. And she's been watching me constantly since this morning. Where did she go to last night?
He became aware that Imoen was glancing worriedly at him, and silently berated himself for the display earlier.
Control yourself, fool. Don't ever let anyone know what you are truly feeling.
Dorean trudged in contemplative silence, staring at Kagain's back, until another thought occurred to him. He mulled over it for a moment before deciding to share it with Imoen.
"He saved my life." He said quietly. "Montaron, back in the cavern. And yours, too," he added, looking up at her. "That was why he locked you in that room."
"...yeah," Imoen replied, keeping her voice low. "It does seem that way, now that you mention it."
They both glanced behind them at Xzar, who was in his usual place at the rear of the party. He was still wearing the clothes of a peddler, ignoring the looks he was receiving from their silent escort. The wizard caught the duo's gazes and tilted his head at them. Dorean and Imoen stared at him silently before facing forward again.
"Hey," Kagain said suddenly without turning around. "Remember when I told yas ta keep ya mouths shut?" He fell back to walk in between Dorean and Imoen, elbowing them both to one side. "I want ya ta keep it that way. I'll be doin' the talkin'."
"How reassuring," said Jaheira. Kagain gave her a one-eyed icy-blue glare before turning back to the Candlekeep roommates.
"If anyone asks ya anythin', ya know nothin'. Ya saw nothin', ya heard nothin. Say one word an' our deal is off."
Dorean and Imoen looked at him, at each other, then at Kagain again. Behind them, Khalid and Jaheira both glared quietly at the dwarf.
"So why do you think the governor wants to see us?" Imoen asked.
"Oh, I have no idea," Kagain answered with heavy sarcasm. "Maybe it's ta talk about the weather. Or th' birds an' the bees, or the latest fashions from the city. Or maybe about the soddin' mess we left back there. What do ya think he wants ta see us for!?" He glowered at Imoen before looking away and glancing at Dorean.
"Still frightened 'bout bein' arrested, huh?"
Dorean did not answer nor meet his eyes.
"Shouldn't have gotten that bounty placed on ya head, then."
"Am I to take it that you're going back on your word?" Dorean asked, his voice cold and emotionless. Kagain's eye-lids narrowed slightly.
"Ya insult me, nugget. I'll let it go on account'a nerves. But only once." He paused. "Don't worry yaself about it. Ya with me now. An' as long as I say that you're my friend, ya should be safe here."
"How is that supposed to help?" Imoen asked, with more than a little scepticism. Kagain glared at her for a moment before letting out a loud, huffing sigh.
"Around here, when I introduce ya to people...if I say, 'this is a friend of mine', that would mean ya connected ta me."
Imoen frowned and exchanged a look with Dorean. "So, if you say we're your friends, does that mean you're protecting us?"
Kagain looked at her impassively. "Yeah, but it doesn't mean ya a partner. It means ya workin' fer me."
"So what do you call your partners, then?"
"Humph. Well, if I say instead, 'this is a friend'a ours', that would mean ya a made guy."
Imoen raised an eyebrow. "A made guy?"
"It means ya a partner, an equal. Means nobody can hurt ya, 'less they want me ta hurt them. Ya get it?"
Imoen looked at Kagain, at Dorean, then at Khalid, Jaheira and Xzar before her gaze returned to Kagain again.
"I never read of dwarves talking like that."
Kagain huffed. "Shows ya what ya know about dwarves."
Imoen frowned at him and gave a huff of her own before turning away with her nose in the air.
"So," Dorean said to Kagain after a moment. "Friend of mine, friend of ours. Anyone asks how we know you, what do we call you? Friend of ours, or-"
"Ya keep ya soddin' mouth shut about me. AN' ya keep ya mouths shut 'bout anythin' an' everythin', understand?"
"...Kagain," said Dorean, deliberately looking away from him.
"What?"
"I'm sorry about what happened."
The older dwarf frowned down at him. "Sod ya sorry. Shut yer mouth an' keep it shut."
Dorean nodded, keeping his eyes averted.
He paused. Could be something, or nothing. Won't know until I find out more.
..
The first thing Karlat became aware of upon opening his eyes was that only the left one was functioning.
The second thing was that he was naked, bound hand and foot to a chair, and had a wad of cloth stuffed in his mouth.
Something moved in front of him. Looking up through a haze of blood and pain, his low-light vision made out a halfling. Karlat blinked at him with his one good eye before recognizing him as one of the mark's companions. He worked his face into a defiant glare and attempted to speak, but his words were lost in a series of muffled gargles.
The halfling neither spoke nor moved. He stood very still, arms loose at his sides, looking up at the dwarf's face.
His failed attempts at cursing him trailing away, Karlat's gaze slowly moved from the halfling's face to his left hand.
It was holding a thin wooden spoon.
The mercenary stared at it for a long moment, then slowly lifted his gaze back to the halfling's blank, emotionless face.
Then his free hand took hold of Karlat's hair, wrenching his head back, and the other lifted the spoon towards his blinded eye.