Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [68]
Chapter Fifteen
Imoen had been traveling for nearly seven days, accompanied by Melissan and the small group of soldiers and refugees from Saradush. As far as Imoen could tell, she was the only Bhaalspawn among them. It was hard to imagine that of the dozens and dozens of men and women who shared Bhaal's tainted blood, only she and Abdel had survived the slaughter unleashed upon the city.
The young girl shifted in her saddle. Melissan had managed to find horses for them all, making the trip bearable, but even riding could not make the journey pleasant. They set out each morning before the sun rose, and they rode long past the coming of dusk. After a week, their arduous trek was finally nearing its end.
They had set out for Amkethran the same morning Abdel had left to pursue the dragon that had taken Jaheira. However, while Abdel had gone south, Melissan and her company had ventured west, heading down the well-maintained trade route known as the Ithal Road.
The countless hours she had spent poring over the maps tucked away in the Candlekeep archives while dreaming of a life beyond the stodgy library walls had given Imoen a strong sense of geography even in these unfamiliar lands. She knew the village of Amkethran lay several hundred miles southwest of Saradush. But there was nothing unusual about the much longer route Melissan was leading them on by sticking to the western-running Ithal Road.
A more direct path between Saradush and Amkethran would have led them right through the heart of the Forest of Mir, or, as many of the locals called it, Khalamjiri-the place of deadly teeth. Even if it had been possible to somehow survive a journey through the lethal woods the more direct route would have emerged right at the base of the all-but-impassable Marching Mountains. In truth, the route Melissan had chosen was the only route they could have taken.
Melissan had kept to the Ithal Road for the first four days. Only then, a full day's ride past the merchant city of Ithmong and just beyond the western tip of the Forest of Mir, did they turn to the south. Two more day's ride had brought them to the edge of the Calim desert, where the stress and strain of the long forced flight had been made even more torturous by a full day's ride through the burning heat of the endless sea of sand.
Now Imoen's legs were stiff and aching, her muscles unused to clinging to the back of a horse for so many days without a break. Her rump was sore and blistered from rubbing against the saddle. Her fair skin was red and raw, burnt by the wind and the sun that was even now setting beyond the horizon. The meager rations of water they were allotted since entering the desert did nothing to stave off thirst.
Mercifully, the ordeal would end soon. Since early afternoon she had been able to make out a gleaming marble edifice in the distance. That must be the monastery at Amkethran, Imoen thought. Melissan had explained that the monastery was run by a man named Balthazar and his monks. Balthazar, Melissan had promised, would provide the last refuge for Imoen-and Abdel, once he joined up with them.
As the last light of day disappeared and the soothing cool of night settled in, the group at last reached their destination. Amkethran was, to Imoen's eyes, little more than a shantytown, nothing but a number of tents and baked mud homes built around the monastery. A crude two-story building that might have been a temple stood in one corner of the village.
Riding through the dusty streets of the village Imoen couldn't help but notice the browned and leathered faces of those who toiled in the hard-scrabble environment of the desert. The paucity and insignificance of Amkethran was made even more noticeable by the towering white marble walls of the monastery on the eastern edge of the town. Thirty feet high, the perimeter defenses of Balthazar's fortified residence dwarfed the other structures.
Though it threatened to make her legs cramp up, Imoen spurred her horse forward until she rode even with Melissan at the head of the company.
"This Balthazar