[Ealasaide]

They had been riding for hours, and Airefalas was slowly growing accustomed to the swaying gait of the camel. Although he still would have preferred to pilot a leaky dinghy across a bay in high wind than do what he was doing, he was getting used to the situation. He had not had much experience with deserts, being basically from the water, but so far had found traversing the sea of sand not all that much different in approach from crossing the ocean, except that everything in the desert seemed to have either fangs, spines, or thorns...including their guide Ráma. She was arguably one of the most prickly females he had ever encountered, not that he had expected her to be exactly cuddly.

While he could understand her being a bit defensive toward him, considering how badly he had bungled their first meeting, her dismissive treatment of Mithadan surprised him. He found it a bit insulting and wouldn't be surprised if Mithadan did, too. Nonetheless, he resolved to keep his mouth shut about that, it being of secondary concern to him. His primary concern was the notion of being handed off like so much troublesome cargo to a caravan of northbound traders. That would likely be the first place Lord Falasmir would look for him and Mithadan once he realized that the two of them had not sailed with the Lonely Star. If found, he and Mithadan would be quickly executed, forget the threat of the slave markets. He knew the damage their escape had done to Falasmir's ego and standing in Umbar would not be taken lightly. He wiped a line of sweat from his forehead, wondering if Ráma had considered things from that angle. If she had, she certainly gave no indication to them that she cared. Getting them off of her hands seemed to be her primary and only objective.

Ahead of them, Ráma gave a whoop of joy and galloped off swiftly in the direction of a few palm trees visible in the distance that were already surrounded by a cluster of wagons, camels, and a flock of goats. No doubt it was the caravan of which she had spoken earlier. Her horse quickly outpaced the camels, so by the time Airefalas and Mithadan reached the oasis, she had already dismounted and gone to speak with the chief trader of the group.

Sliding off the back of his camel, Airefalas stretched his back and legs. He was not used to sitting for so long at one time and found his muscles had grown cramped and stiff from inactivity. He very deliberately cracked his neck, then turned to Mithadan, who had dismounted as well.

"I guess this is where we change hands," Airefalas said dryly.

Mithadan nodded. "If the traders will take us. If Falasmir is looking for us to make for Gondor by land, it could prove just as dangerous for these people as it is for us."

"True," agreed Airefalas. "I wonder if Ráma has taken that into consideration. So far it seems the only thing she has considered where we are concerned is how to get rid of us. I'm sure you noticed - as did I - that she made certain to ride well out of speaking distance to us." He turned and looked in the direction in which he had last seen Ráma. "I suppose it would be fruitless to try talking to her again."

Mithadan shrugged. "We have an obligation to try, not just for our own sakes but for those who would travel with us, as well. I have a feeling that if we are captured, next time it won't go so easily with us or with any who seek to assist us. A direct northern path would be foolhardy at best."

"Suicidal at worst." Airefalas glanced up at the wide expanse of sky. "If it were just a matter of navigation, we could strike out on our own, but under the circumstances...." he trailed off with a helpless gesture. "Maybe I should try talking to her."

"Why you?"

"Well, if she's still mad at me for the armoire business back in Umbar - " he shrugged. "Maybe if I groveled a little bit, she might be more sympathetic to our situation."

Mithadan laughed and shook his head. "I don't think that will make any difference, but you're welcome to try."

"You're probably right." Airefalas smiled ruefully. "She'd probably just see that as a sign of weakness. She's a tough little thing." He paused, then shrugged again as Ráma strode back into view. "Aww, I'll give it a go. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Just don't grab her again," cautioned Mithadan with a smile. "You can always make it worse."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Airefalas answered dryly. He turned and walked in Ráma's direction, but, contrary to what he had just said to Mithadan, he had no intention of doing any groveling. What he intended to do was suggest to Ráma that she send him alone into the north with the caravan and take Mithadan with her safely into the south. As captain of the Lonely Star and the main architect of the ship‘s escape, Mithadan’s life was in greater danger than his own. Besides, Falasmir’s men would be looking for two foreigners, not one. If they did catch him, Airefalas figured he could always tell them Mithadan had been killed, misdirect them long enough for his captain to get to safety. After all, Mithadan had a wife and three small children to consider. What did Airefalas have to return to? A career in ruins, a fiancée he had been forbidden to marry, and a brother who had virtually disowned him over a money dispute. Clearly, Mithadan had more to risk. Finally, since Ráma’s anger at them had begun with him, perhaps she would be more kindly disposed to Mithadan on his own. It was worth a try. Squaring both his shoulders and his resolve, Airefalas stepped up to Ráma’s side.

He reached the desert girl just as she bent to retrieve her pack from under a bush. Before he had a chance to say a word, she stopped abruptly and drew back from the bush very slowly, her face filled with fear. Her hand groped for something at her waist that should have been there and wasn't. Her sword? Following her gaze, Airefalas saw the snake barely seconds after she did. He had never seen one exactly like it, but had enough experience with vipers in general to know that this one was ready to strike. Without thinking, he closed his hand around the hilt of his sword.

"Don't move," he ordered Ráma, sliding his sword slowly from its scabbard. She glanced at him anxiously from the corner of her eyes, but remained perfectly still, both of them knowing that any sudden movement could cause the snake to strike. Still moving with excruciating slowness, Airefalas raised his sword. The snake continued to sway dangerously, its tawny eyes fixed, unwavering, on the figure of the girl.

When his sword was in position, Airefalas cut a quick glance at the girl. "When I start my downswing," he said quietly, his voice tense but soothing at once. "It's likely to strike at you, so when I say 'now,' jump backward as quickly as you can. Are you ready?"

"Yes," breathed Ráma.

"Okay...NOW!"

The three of them moved in unison. As Airefalas swung downward with his sword, the snake unleashed its sinuous coils, striking like lightning at Ráma, who scrambled backwards with a surprising speed of her own. The Gondorian's blade caught the snake in midair, severing its head from its body in a single stroke. As the two pieces tumbled harmlessly to the sand, Airefalas cast a worried look at Ráma.

"Are you all right?"