"Aye." Having grown up with the ghosts in the city, and having been schooled by Malorrie, a phantom himself, Jherek took them as a matter of course.

"Just checking. I've grown somewhat more careful in me old age. I don't like to eat by meself either, so I'll let ye stand me to a bowl of Lady Alyth's famous stew if ye'll let me stand ye to a drink."

Jherek stepped over, held out his hand, and said, "I'm Malorrie of Velen, journeyman shipwright and able-bodied sailor."

He hated to lie, but was afraid that stories of the young sailor Jherek, who bore the tattoo of one of the Sword Coast's most notorious pirate crews, might have beat him to Baldur's Gate.

"Khlinat Ironeater," the dwarf replied, clasping Jherek's arm in a viselike grip, "of the Daggerford Ironeater blacksmith clan. Able-bodied sailor and gemologist. Proud to meet ye, lad."

"Aye," Jherek said. "I've heard of the Ironeater clan. The cargo ship I crewed on transported clasps, hinges, shields, and other things they turn out in Daggerford."

"That's them," Khlinat stated proudly, puffing out his chest. "Near to busted my old da's heart when he found I'd fallen in love with the sailor's life. Seafaring is not something most dwarves would be about if they followed their natures, ye know."

Jherek nodded. He'd only heard of a few dwarven sailors and seen even fewer.

"Well, come on then, swabbie," the dwarf said. Time's a-wasting and we're going to need to shoulder our way in amongst sullen and starved hostiles if we're to get our victuals this night. Men are working hard here as a result of them sea devil raids." Khlinat turned smartly on his peg leg, the wood thumping against the docks. He called out to a passing lamp boy who held a lit lantern at the end of a stout pole. "Lad, we'd be after hiring ye to guide us to the Elfsong Tavern."

As Jherek followed the dwarf and the lamp boy through the dark streets of Baldur's Gate, he found he was looking forward to sharing eveningfeast with the dwarf.

Traveling with the caravan had been arduous work. They'd herded wagons through broken lands while racing the sun and pitching camp against the coming night. In between, they'd fought off the numerous ore and goblin hordes that had come out of the Cloud Peaks and the Wood of Sharp Teeth to prey on the fat caravans that were overfilled with cargo and understaffed by mercenary warriors.

Frauk, the caravan master, had told them that two out of every seven caravans were taking huge losses or being captured by the raids. Pirating took the wherewithal to get a ship, by purchase or by capture, but anyone with a knife in hand could become a raider on the land. Fewer warriors wanted to take the risks inherent in overland travel because it was getting as dangerous as the seaways.

That was why the merchants had been so generous to Frauk when they'd reached Baldur's Gate. After starting out in Athkatla broke and leaving the last of his coin with the priests of Lathander there for tending his wounds, Jherek now found himself quite flush.

They followed Bindle Street south along the docks as the lamp boy weaved in among the laborers and night crowd that had gathered around the smaller offices where black market business was done between the large warehouses. An uneasy feeling draped Jherek, and he stopped to look back into the harbor to his right.

In the distance he spotted the old Seatower of Balduran thrusting up on the opposite side of the harbor. It housed a barracks and naval base, part dungeon and part fortress. Men moved along the ramparts. The twilight dusk still showed a few yellow tendrils that looked like curdled eggs under the gathering black storm clouds. Ships cluttered the harbor, their masts naked of sailcloth.

"What's the matter with ye, swabbie?" Khlinat asked.

Jherek shook his head, not knowing, but definitely aware of the crawling sensation moving along the back of his neck. Then, against the shadowed line of the river, he spotted ships. He guessed by the cut of their shape that they were the small cargo ships and cogs that plied the River Chion-thar. Their sailcloth didn't reflect the moonlight, colored black so they would be harder to see.

"Do you see them?"

"Aye," the dwarf growled. "These old eyes may not be what they once was, but they see them ships right enough." He hollered at the lamp boy. "Make haste, ye little vagabond, we've got to find a member of the watch."

The boy took the lead, saying, "They're keeping ships in the harbor." His quick steps left Khlinat behind.

The dwarf glanced at Jherek and said, "Have a smart step there, swabbie. If'n the watch hasn't spotted them scoundrels and thought about the chance of trouble, somebody needs to tell them."

Jherek nodded and ran after the lamp boy, catching him easily. The lantern jerked at the end of the pole, throwing shadows to race crazily around them and warning people ahead of them to step aside. The troubled feeling inside the young sailor increased, becoming a gnawing in the pit of his stomach.

The lamp boy raced onto the next dock leading out into the harbor. Prowling cats scattered before him, yowling and hissing their displeasure.

"There!" The youth flung a hand forward.

Jherek spotted the black watch flag with its vertical red stripe in the stern of a converted cargo ship tied up at the dock. Warriors clothed in the black armor of the Baldur's Gate Watch occupied the deck. A few of them had already noticed the black-sailed ships.

"Halt!" a watchman cried, vaulting from the ship to the dock. His sword cleared leather with a sibilant whisk. The lamp boy's light flickered over his nervous features.

Jherek drew up at once, lifting his hands at his side, and said, "I mean no harm. I only came to tell you about the ships out on the river."

"We've already seen them," the watch guard said. "They'll be addressed before they're allowed to put in."

As Jherek watched, two other watch ships unfurled their sails and skimmed out into the harbor like low-flying geese. Ship's crew quickly passed out lanterns, lit them, and hung them from the ship to make it more visible. They drew shouted curses from a barge that was nearly swamped in their passing. Sword steel gleamed on the deck.

The uneasy feeling grew stronger inside Jherek, but he controlled it as the two watch ships sailed on an interception course.

"Cast away!" someone called from the ship in front of Jherek.

The watch guard raced to the stern to the mooring cleats. He unwound the thick hawser ropes while another man unfastened the one holding the prow. Sailcloth cracked as it ran up the masts and filled with wind. The watch members threw themselves back at their ship and clambered aboard. The ship's crew quickly passed out lanterns, lighting their ship.

Jherek stood by and watched, feeling at a loss that he wasn't able to join the coming battle. If it came to that, he amended. He felt his sword already in his hand, though, hard and sturdy.

Khlinat thumped up beside him, his breath ragged from the effort. He carried two hand axes and scowled at the approaching line of ships. "Yonder blows an ill wind, I'll wager."

Jherek didn't disagree.

"At least them's good, honest pirates and not them scaled, black-hearted devils what's got the taste for man flesh."