Baldur's Gate by Philip Athans

much gold Jaheira and Khalid were carrying, but he couldn’t imagine it would be enough.
    He returned to the inn on foot, already tired and weary of a road that now just seemed pointless. He saw Xan first, the elf was still limping a bit but was otherwise fit for the road. Abdel returned his new friend’s warm smile and asked, “The others?”
    “Here,” Khalid said from behind him. Xan peered around Abdel’s hulking frame and a look of stern disapproval crossed his face. Abdel turned and there, both clad once more in their well-worn armor, were Khalid and Jaheira. The woman’s beautiful round face was marred by a purplish bruise, and there was a decided swelling to her otherwise strong nose. She’d washed, but there was still a trace of dried blood around one nostril.
    Xan sighed and said to Abdel, “I cannot ride with a man who beats his woman.”
    Abdel flushed, wondering how Xan could have known, then he was ashamed.
    “Xan, no,” Jaheira said, her voice sounded as embarrassed as Abdel felt. “It’s not—”
    “It is,” Xan said, his leaden gaze shifting to Khalid, “what it is. Isn’t that right, breed?”
    Abdel shook his head and held up a hand. He’d heard half-elves called “breed” before and a fight always followed—always.
    Khalid, though, actually smiled. “Easy, my friend, you’ve made a mistake.”
    Xan stood straight and said, “I cannot ride with this Amnian half-breed.”
    “Why are you riding with us anyway, elf?” Khalid shot back.
    “That’s enough,” Jaheira said. “Xan, Khalid did not strike me. He never has, and he knows well enough not to try.”—the two shared a knowing glance—”My nose is as the rest of me—my own business.”
    Xan heard her and understood as much as he was able. “As you wish,” he conceded. “We should ride.” “Actually,” Abdel said, “we’re walking.” “To Beregost?” the elf asked. “Are you mad? It’ll take a tenday!”
    “A bit less maybe,” Khalid said, “but we may be able to—”
    “No,” Abdel cut in, “we’re walking.” He looked at Jaheira and nodded, hoping the gesture would say, “good morning,” “I’m sorry,” and “why did you come into my room in the middle of the night in the first place?” all at once. From the look he got back from the woman, he figured it did.
    “So we’re off,” she said, and they set off onto the northbound Coast Way.
    “Why are you coming with us, anyway?” Abdel asked Xan as they fell into step behind Jaheira and Khalid. Abdel was hoping to fill an uncomfortable moment as the married couple whispered heatedly between themselves.
    “This Tazok,” the elf answered, “this ogre… whoever he is, was keeping me in a cave, closed in like a veal calf, to work as slave labor for this Iron Throne of his. Why wouldn’t I come with you to help kill him?”
    “I didn’t say I meant to kill him.”
    Xan actually laughed at this. “As you wish, my friend, but—”
    “Don’t tell me you care!” Jaheira shouted at Khalid, loudly, and practically ran ahead. Khalid paused, letting her go. The half-elf didn’t turn around, but the back of his neck blushed. When she’d passed him by a dozen paces or so he continued on behind her.
    “Well,” Xan muttered so only Abdel could hear, “this is going to be an even longer walk than I thought.”

    “Beregost,” Abdel said, nine days later, as they crossed into the dusty, crowded, vile-smelling town. “What a hole.”
    “Indeed,” Xan agreed. “Precisely the sort of hole in which one might find an ogre hiring kobolds to sabotage an iron mine.”
    Abdel returned the elf’s smile and said, “Two days, Xan, no more.”
    “I understand, Abdel,” Xan replied. “It will take at least that long for me to find gold enough for a decent sword, longer maybe to find a sword worth that gold—human swords, to think…”
    “And it will take us that long to find Tazok,” Jaheira added. She seemed sad, maybe even frightened that Abdel was