Read Baldur's Gate for Free Online

elf blood. The human part of him was surely Amnian; he had a large, long nose and dusky olive skin. He was dressed as if for battle, in dented armor that he was obviously uncomfortable in. He was wearing a helmet, which, considering the surroundings, seemed a wise idea. His lips curled and twitched. He was nervous.
    “You have come here to meet me, though,” the Amnian said. “I am Khalid.”
    That was it. Khalid—the last word his father spoke as his life drained from his punctured eye, then Abdel remembered that there was another.
    “Jah,” he said, “I was to meet Khalid and Jah.”
    “Jaheira, yes,” Khalid said, grinning ear-to-ear, but still nervous, “she is my wife. She is here.”
    The Amnian turned instinctively toward a table on the other side of the room, but the crowd blocked his view.
    “Come,” he said, “sit with us, and tell us what befell your father. He was a great man, a hero in his own way, and he will be missed.”
    “What do you know of it?” Abdel asked, bile suddenly rising to the back of his throat. His voice was full of menace. “What was he to you?”
    Khalid stared at Abdel as if the sellsword had suddenly transformed into a cobra. He was scared of Abdel, and he was not at all able to hide it.
    “He was a friend,” Khalid answered, “that is all. I mean no disrespect.”
    Abdel wanted to say something rude to the Amnian, but he couldn’t. Instead he fished in his pouch for money for a sixth pint of ale. He came out with only three coppers.
    “Bhaal!” he cursed loudly, stood, and threw the coppers into the crowd.
    A drunk somewhere muttered something mildly offensive after having been clipped on the temple by one of the hard thrown copper coins. Abdel shot to attention, and more than one man, even innocent ones, scurried off to darker corners. Sweat broke out visibly on Khalid’s upper lip.
    “Gods,” the Amnian said, “what did he tell you?”
    Abdel looked down at the Amnian but said nothing.
    “I will be happy to buy you a drink,” Khalid said. “Please, come with me. We don’t want any more attention do we?”
    Abdel grunted and let himself be led through the crowd. He caught sight of Montaron for only the briefest of moments. The halfling was holding a silk purse, and Abdel was sure the little man winked at him.
    Abdel took a couple of deep breaths to try to calm himself, and when Khalid said, “Here she is,” Abdel looked up, and his breath caught.
    Jaheira was beautiful. Half-elf like her mate, she too must have had a human parent from Amn. The two looked oddly alike, but both the elf and human sides favored Jaheira the more. Her face was wide and dark, her lips full, and her eyes bright—nearly the same violet as Khalid’s—-and they sparkled with intelligence. Her face was framed in thick hair that might have been black if she were all human, but her elf blood highlighted it with streaks of fiery copper. Even though she sat, Abdel could tell she was strong of build, rugged even. She wore a bodice of hard leather that was scratched from what might have been blade strikes. She was armored.
    When her eyes caught his, he saw rather than heard her gasp. Abdel sat without looking at the chair. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers, and she did nothing to discourage him. Her full lips twitched like her husband’s. She was nervous too, and though Abdel would never come between a man and his wife, he couldn’t help hoping that she was nervous for different reasons than Khalid was.
    “Why was I sent here?” Abdel asked them both, though he continued to look at Jaheira. “My father didn’t live to tell me.”
    “How did Gorion die?” Jaheira asked.
    “Sellswords,” Abdel said, “like me. We were ambushed on the Way of the Lion. I killed the men who attacked us but not soon enough.”
    “There are forces that didn’t want us to meet,” Khalid said, “Gorion knew that. It was…” the Amnian hesitated, and Abdel thought he might be lying, “it was