[Child of the 7th Age]

Ráma was not inclined to argue, and had tersely dismissed Mithadan's request to accompany her home, "I am sorry. You seek your missing friend, and I would help you if I could. But in times like these, my clan wants no outsiders. You will be safer in the north." With that, she had cantered ahead, keeping a good distance between herself and the Gondorians in hopes of forestalling further discussion.

For the next several hours, the trio rode through the desert, heading towards an old water hole that lay several leagues distant. Once or twice, when they had stopped to take a break, Ráma glanced over her shoulder and saw the two men quietly conversing. She wondered if they had other ideas in mind than the plan that she had put forward. But that was their personal business. She would have fulfilled her part of the bargain in helping them escape from Umbar. If they wished to lose their guide and ride to certain death on some foolhardy errand, she could do nothing to dissuade them. And being outlanders, they undoubtedly had no more sense than that.

In the distance, she could see the hazy outline of several palm trees fronting on a small water hole. Underneath the trees stood a cluster of wagons and camels, as well as a small flock of goats being herded at the rear of the line. Ráma gave a whoop of joy and galloped forward towards the caravan, leaving Mithadan and Airefalas struggling to catch up. She could not have hoped for better. They were friendly maenwaith who plied the local trade up and down the coast. While their own business did not take them to the far north, they would certainly come in contact with others heading in that direction. More importantly, they did frequent business with her clan and could be trusted. She could even leave money with them to negotiate with the next caravan they encountered to guide the men northward.

Ráma pulled Kyelek up on the far side of the oasis, just below the spot where the caravan was parked. She unsaddled her mount, led him down to the water to drink, and walked over to where the chief tradesman sat. She stopped for an instant, letting her travel pouch and sword slide through her fingers and fall in a heap onto the soft sand underneath the bush. It would not do to approach a friend on business matters with sword in hand.

Then, she went over and sat cross legged on the ground, offering greetings to the trader and inquiring about his wife and children. Within a few moments, the two were deep in negotiation, with Ráma gesturing towards the men of Gondor who had reached the oasis and were getting down from their camels. After a series of exclamations and lively exchanges, the two finally shook hands. The young woman nodded, then rose and retraced her steps, intending to retrieve her sack and pull out the gold pieces she had promised the trader.

Ráma stepped heedlessly forward on the soft sand, bending down and reaching out to pick up the bag. Abruptly, she halted. Under the shaded fringes of the bush, a sand viper reared up out of the sand, a snake of some two feet long with a pallid back and rows of brown spots underneath. Uncurling and hissing, the serpent prepared to rear back and strike. Ráma automatically grabbed for her sword, but it was not there. She had left it beside the bag.