Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [3]
The boy was silent.
The captain turned to the crowd. "What is this child's name?"
For several seconds there was silence, and then an anonymous voice called out, "Terrel. Gerdon's son."
With a single, fluid motion the captain drew his scimitar. Voices cried out in protest. One exclaimed, "But he's only a child!"
"A child of Bhaal," the captain clarified, drawing his blade across the helpless lad's exposed throat.
Chapter One
"I want to go home… to Candlekeep."
Abdel had never uttered truer words than those he had spoken at the foot of the Tree of Life. But there was one thing Abdel had learned from the recent events of his life-he rarely got what he wanted.
He should have been a hero many times over. First he had slain his evil half brother Sarevok and saved the city of Baldur's Gate from a bloody and senseless war. Then, with Jaheira by his side, Abdel had defeated the sorcerer Jon Irenicus and saved the life and soul of his childhood friend and half sister, Imoen. Abdel had died, ventured into the Abyss, and finally been reborn at the foot of the Tree of Life. In the process he had liberated the elven city of Suldanessellar, thwarted the plot of the mad mage Irenicus to become an immortal, and prevented the destruction of the Tree of Life-the source of all existence on Faerun.
After all that, the only thing Abdel wanted was to return to his childhood home, but there was no hero's welcome awaiting Abdel when he left the safety of Suldanessellar, and the walls of Candlekeep were farther away than ever.
"Abdel, we need to rest." The exhausted voice of Jaheira, Abdel's lover, cut through the brooding thoughts of the big sellsword as he blazed a path through the thick undergrowth beneath the towering trees of Tethir Forest. "We cannot go on tonight. As soon as we find a clearing we should stop."
Glancing over at the beautiful half-elf who had stood beside him throughout all his trials, Abdel saw her fine features were drawn and haggard. Her normally olive skin was almost black with the dust and dirt of their seemingly endless journey. Her long, thick, black hair was matted and tangled, its lustrous copper streaks now dull and dingy. In the shards of light from the full moon streaming through the thick ceiling of branches above them, her violet eyes still burned with energy and intensity. Jaheira would follow him to the end of Faerun without complaint. Abdel realized it was not for herself that she demanded they stop.
Imoen, the young woman who had shared Abdel's youth, hopes, and dreams during his upbringing at Candlekeep, was lagging behind. Barely five feet tall, she was forced to take twice as many steps as Abdel to keep the pace he set. The toll was clearly evident. Her normally bright and mischievous eyes were half closed, her head drooped to her chest, her chestnut bangs fell down across her pale, freckled brow. The sprightly bounce in her step was gone. She marched with the heavy, stiff-legged tread of one forced far beyond the limits of endurance. Like Abdel, Imoen had the blood of a god coursing through her veins. However, the tainted essence of their father had been largely purged from her body and soul by the mad experiments of the mage Irenicus, and she lacked the superhuman fortitude of her half brother.
The semiconscious young woman stumbled on a gnarled root jutting up from the floor of the dark woods, but Abdel was there to catch her before she hit the ground. He moved with the unnatural speed of a being who was more than a man and only slightly less than a god. He scooped her up without a word and cradled her in his gigantic arms. They pressed onward through the thick trees, Jaheira now leading the way, until they found a small clearing. Abdel gently lowered his half sister to the forest floor and turned a concerned face up to Jaheira.
"She'll be all right," the half-elf assured him. "She just needs to rest. As do I."
"How long?"
The question itself was simple, yet Jaheira hesitated before answering. Abdel understood. Living as fugitives was taking