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Old 01-20-2004, 04:01 PM   #67
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
 
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Sting

Rama

At first Ráma said nothing. Stunned by the words she was hearing, the desert woman shook her head and glanced away, trying to mask her confusion. Her people jealously guarded their secret tongue and would not casually share such words. Even more to the point, no master of shapes would willingly give out a true name to anyone beyond their immediate clan, certainly not to an unknown outsider.

She refrained from peppering Mithadan with hasty questions, holding her tongue and quickly sorting through the possibilities. Perhaps this was some new ploy Wyrma had devised. Yet Ráma did not think so. To maintain her disguise within the palace, even the Wyrm depended on the traditional veil of secrecy, a secrecy not merely of shapes and forms, but even of the words and names that were sacred to their people.

Once, her mother had spoken of a distant age when evil men from outside routinely kidnapped children and forced the maenwaith to divulge secrets, under the lying pretext that the little ones would be set free. But that explanation also seemed unlikely. Long ago, her own people had decided it was better for innocent children to die at the hands of their own families rather than being forced to do a stranger's bidding their entire life. More importantly, Ráma could not believe such a heinous thing of Mithadan. The man had been so clearly proud when speaking of his own daughters and son. He did not act like someone who might torture little ones merely to gain some practical advantage.

As unlikely as it seemed, perhaps this stranger was telling the truth. She knew of no one who went by the name 'Dester' edra, sister-of-the-wind. But, for parents to choose such a name, they must have been certain that their child would master one of the great flying shapes. The wind-sister might even be an Eagle. And Te sorthene ......the northerner might not understand the true meaning of these words: that it was he who was seen as the "friend of the heart" to his maenwaith sister.

Like a bird winging through the skies, Ráma heard Mithadan speak, as if from a great distrance.... Ráma, are you alright?

She quickly reined in her thoughts and replied, "Yes...yes... I was just thinking about your words. I can not help you." Then she hastily shifted to another topic, since this was not the place to be discussing secret things.

After several moments of harmless conversation about how unseasonably warm the weather had been, Ráma noticed Wyrma walking in their direction. Her voice halted in mid-sentence and she abruptly interjected, "I must go now." She extended her hand, gripping Mithadan's tightly in her own and dropping her voice to a whisper. "Umbar is a dangerous place. Do not trust Falasmir or the woman who walks beside him. Keep your eyes open at all times. I will soon return home, but you may always leave a message for me at the Cat's Paw. I have friends there... And, you? Where do you stay?" Ráma's eyes strayed nervously towards Wyrma but she stood her ground to listen to Mithadan's response.

"I hope to be back on the Star soon and sailing home. But for now, my mate and I have been given chambers at the palace and guards who guide us wherever we go."

She leaned over further and again lowered her voice, "Take my advice. Learn how to lose your guards. Your safety may depend on it." Then she straightened up and, briefly inclining her head, walked quickly towards the doorway.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:03 AM January 21, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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