[Child of the 7th Age]

As the two pieces of the snake’s body crumpled harmlessly to the ground, Ráma stood motionless and silent, staring off into the desert. Her face was taut, her expression distant; the words Airefalas spoke barely registered on her mind. She involuntarily shuddered, and then bent to retrieve her sword. Kneeling on the sand to take a closer look, Ráma brought her blade down in one hearty swoop so that the viper’s head was severed from the front portion of its body. She tossed the remains of the head to one side and then buried it carefully in the sand so no man or beast would accidentally come across it. Then she again used her sword to gingerly lift up the remaining parts of the snake and slip them inside a spare leather pouch used for game and other foodstuffs.

She sprang to her feet with renewed energy, turning to face Airefalas, “Yes, thank you. I am all right. But only because of you. You are a brave man. Here, take this.” An impish smile crossed her face as she offered the Gondorian the remnents of the snake. “You have blessed us twice. I hope you can cook. I mean no disrespect, but I must go and speak with the caravan driver again.”

Ráma shoved the bag into Airefalas' extended arms, apologizing for her haste and noting that food could be scarce in the desert. “This snake will make a hearty soup for us while we rest here. It’s mid-afternoon, the time when wise travelers take shelter. Later today, we’ll continue on for a short distance before we halt for the night. We have three-days till we reach the southern foothills.”

Mithadan and Airefalas exchanged puzzled glances, until Mithadan finally queried. “We go with you then? What of that caravan heading north?”

“If you still wish to visit my clan to search for your friend, I will take you. I may have misjudged the two of you. I still wish I could persuade you otherwise. Times are hard now, and there is threat of war. Before this is over, you may wish that you had never set eyes on me or my clan.”

She hesitated a moment, wondering if she should share anything further with the outsiders, but then went on to confide, “My clan follows the path of the Great Eagles. We wish to maintain traditional ways. Sadly, some of our brothers and sisters no longer feel that way. Now let me go and speak with that caravan leader again, if you are sure this is what you want.” The men somberly nodded and Ráma disappeared around the corner.

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For the next two and a half days, the party steadily made its way over the shifting sands, carefully circumventing the few stray encampments that cropped up in their path. The sun shone hot and merciless on their heads, making the journey uncomfortable, but they encountered no serious obstacles and were able to make good progress. Once in a while, Ráma had glanced back over her shoulder up into the sky, but she could see sign that a great eagle had been following them.

By the afternoon of the third day, they were within a few hours’ ride of the Eagle encampment. Ráma explained to the men that they should reach the safety of the camp by evening, and would perhaps be in time to join the evening meal. The one tidbit she kept to herself was that she was totally uncertain what their reception might be.