Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [36]
Shaking his head, Abdel tried again. "No, we don't want sanctuary. We just want-"
"No sanctuary? Then what do you seek? Hah! Gromnir's death, maybe?"
Sarevok spoke before Abdel could come up with a response that wouldn't agitate their already disturbed host. "I did not come to kill you, Gromnir. I could have done that long ago."
The wild general's head snapped back with the shock of recognition, his tangled locks flipping up from his eyes that were wide with surprise.
"Gromnir knows you! Hah! Gromnir heard Sarevok was dead! Hah-Hah!"
Jaheira made no attempt to hide the implied accusation in her voice. "Sarevok, you know this madman?"
"Sarevok knows Gromnir," the general replied, "and Gromnir knows Sarevok. Take them to the prisons!"
From the corner of his eye Abdel saw his companions preparing for battle. Imoen's hand was slipping down to the dagger she kept in her belt, Jaheira's seemingly casual hold on her staff tightened to a fighting grip, and even Sarevok's armored form seemed to coil in anticipation, but a quick shake of Abdel's head caused them all to relax their stances.
The guards approached cautiously and disarmed them. Abdel tried to give a reassuring look in response to the questioning glares from his female companions. He had escaped many prisons in his time, and he was willing to bet that they would find some way to escape this one as well. Abdel would rather take his chances with bars and a cell than have to endure another battle within himself against the Bhaal fire that could possess his soul and transform him into the demonic, four-armed Ravager.
Chapter Eight
There were at least a dozen cells in the dungeon, all empty except for the four now occupied by Abdel and his companions. Even the guards left them once they were secure.
"I am assuming you have a plan, Abdel," Jaheira said once the guards were gone.
"Yeah, big brother," Imoen chimed in. "What's going on? I've never known you to shy away from a fight."
Abdel hesitated before answering. He didn't want to explain the motives behind his actions to the only two people he cared about in the world. He didn't want to tell them that if he drew his sword in anger he might not sheath it again until they were both reduced to savaged, bloody corpses. He didn't want them to know he was afraid of the monster inside himself.
But Imoen and Jaheira had trusted him. He couldn't just refuse to answer them. As much as he hated to do it, Abdel was afraid he would have to lie to his sister and his lover. Abdel wasn't a very good liar, even at the best of times.
Fortunately, he never got the chance to speak.
"Perhaps your large friend merely has learned that there are other solutions besides resorting to violence," a female voice said as a tall, slender figure descended the stairs to the dungeon and emerged from the shadows.
The woman who spoke was wearing a mesh shirt of fine steel links, and a spiked mace hung from her belt.
She wore silver gauntlets and knee-high silver boots. Her cloth sleeves and leggings were black. A high, soft collar extended from beneath her armor right up the line of her jaw. Every inch of her skin was covered by either armor or the dark, form fitting cloth except for her face. There her skin was the white of gleaming marble, a striking contrast to her coal black eyes, her deep red lips and the long raven tresses that hung down well past her shoulders.
"Melissan," Sarevok said by way of greeting.
The woman nodded in the armored man's direction. "Sarevok. I thought you were dead."
"I was," Sarevok replied simply. "I should have heeded your warnings. I have been given a second chance."
Melissan turned her intense gaze in Abdel's direction. "And you can be none other than Abdel Adrian, Gorion's ward."
"How do you know Abdel?" Jaheira demanded, "how do you know Sarevok?"
"I knew Sarevok long ago," Melissan answered, though she did not pull her eyes away from Abdel, "before his mad efforts to start a war between Nashkel and Baldur's