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remember seeing Montaron pull it out of the man’s chest, let alone wipe the blood away. Even drunk, reeling from the kill, Abdel admired Montaron’s finesse.
    The sellsword was only barely sober enough to realize he wouldn’t find work here now, even if the drunk was a thief, and he’d thrown his last three coppers to the crowd.
    “Nashkel?” Abdel asked.
    “Yes,” Khalid said, his voice edged with incredulity, “yes, Nashkel. Gorion knew that was where we were planning to go?”
    Abdel turned to look down at the Amnian, then to the halfling who was regarding Khalid with a face like a stone mask. Khalid returned the stare with a questioning glance.
    Xzar came out of nowhere and said, “Five, then? Who are they, these two?”
    Inn patrons started making advances toward the purses now displayed against the bloody chest of the dead drunk, and Abdel let himself be both pulled and pushed out of the inn. He smiled, though he wanted to cry. For his sins, he would let himself be pulled and pushed all the way to Nashkel.

Chapter Five
    “We won’t be the only ones trying to help,” Jaheira told Abdel as they walked the seemingly endless miles to Nashkel.
    “I’d say not,” Montaron piped in.
    Jaheira spun on the stout halfling, obviously not appreciating this intrusion any more than she’d appreciated the numerous others from both Montaron and Xzar over the last seven and a half days.
    Montaron only smiled at her and said, “Sun’s bright t’day, eh girl?”
    Abdel pretended not to see the fire of warning in the halfling’s eyes. Abdel was confident that Montaron was smart enough to keep his hands off Jaheira.
    “This iron shortage,” Jaheira continued, trying to ignore Montaron, “could well lead to war between my people and yours.”
    Abdel stopped, and the others hesitated in their steps, but all except Jaheira continued on.
    “My people?” Abdel asked. He turned to face Jaheira, and it was the first time in the days since they’d met at the Friendly Arms that he’d looked her in the eye. Abdel, unsure of himself in many ways, was nervous around this strong, beautiful woman, and it embarrassed him. They were traveling with her husband.
    “Amn, and …” she stopped, realizing she wasn’t sure where he was from. “Gorion was from Candlekeep. He raised you as his son there, yes?”
    “He did,” Abdel said, again embarrassed though he didn’t quite know why.
    “Then perhaps …” she started again. “Well, a war between Amn and Baldur’s Gate, for one … with Candlekeep caught in the middle.”
    “Candlekeep can take care of itself,” Abdel stated simply. He turned and started walking again, but slowly, allowing Jaheira to stay at his side.
    They were several paces behind their companions now, and Abdel surveyed the unlikely crew. Xzar kept swatting at something though there were few if any insects about. The mage muttered to himself constantly, though since Jaheira had joined them, Abdel was distracted enough by her not to be troubled by Xzar. Montaron would glance back at them from time to time, apparently feeling left out or, for reasons known only to himself, afraid. Khalid walked purposefully onward and spoke little. When he had spoken over the last seven and a half days it was about what he called “the mission.”
    Abdel, Montaron, and Xzar were headed for Nashkel to seek work guarding the iron mines there. For Jaheira and Khalid, there seemed to be some more noble cause, and as much as the woman tried to turn Abdel’s heart to it, he just couldn’t understand her urgency.
    “Men fight,” he told her, ignoring her grunt of protest. “Amn and Baldur’s Gate, Amn and Tethyr, Tethyr and Tethyr… it is the way of things, the way I make a living.”
    Jaheira sighed and said, “It doesn’t have to be.”
    “It doesn’t have to be what?” He asked, smiling, “The way of things, or the way I make a living?”
    Montaron laughed from in front of them, and Abdel realized the halfling