D & D - Red Sands
is mine, let the holy man ride," Uramettu said.
    Tamakh's eyebrows rose. He pointed to himself and said, ""Vbu think me infirm?"
    She shook her head. "I meant only to defer to your elder feet," she replied.
    "My aged feet express their gratitude." The priest mounted clumsily. He unhooked the waterskin from the Nangoli's saddle and shook it. "Nearly full."
    "We'll need every drop," Jadira reminded him. "We're leaving the road."
    "But why?" asked Nabul.
    "Consider what would have befallen us had we met a troop of horsemen instead of one. Why, the four of us ran about like headless geese before Uramettu vanquished him. What could we do against real cavalry? No, we must leave the road and use the desert to shield us from the sultan's soldiers."
    "We'll die out there," Nabul predicted.
    "If we do, I am sure we won't die with full pockets," said Marix, eyeing the thief.
    They buried the mercenary by the road. Jadira began to distribute their meager possessions. Sbe started to hand Nabul the spear but changed her mind and gave it to Uramettu.
    "This is too much," Nabul grumbled.
    Jadira handed Tamakh the cudgel.
    Tamakh said, "As a cleric, it is not proper for me to bear an edged weapon. I would rather bear no weapon, but as we are not all reborn in the kindly warmth of Agma—"
    Nabul cut him off. "Why is she deciding who'll carry what? She seems to be deciding everything."
    "Jadira seems best suited to get us across the Red Sands, just as you were our best guide in the backstreets of Omerabad," put in Tamakh.
    Uramettu agreed, saying, "I will follow her."
    They all looked to Marix. He said, "Jadira is our best
    chance to get safely across the desert. However—" he glanced at her—"it is only right that we all speak our minds."
    "Are you satisfied to let me lead as long as we are on the Red Sands?" she asked Nabul, hands on hips. "Or do you profess to know the desert better than I?" Nabul made a terrible face, but he did not dispute the division of the meager spoils further.
    Jadira kept the dead mercenary's sword, as Marix had one already. Nabul retained only his dagger. The five had two skins of water, a bag of wheelbread, and one medium-sized pot of sour yogurt. The provisions were hung from the saddle rings.
    By the dying light of day, Jadira addressed her comrades: "Northward lies the great oasis ofjulli. The oasis is at least ten leagues from here. There we will be able to find caravans, traders, and the supplies we need for the journey to Tantuffa. It will be hard going, as we cannot spare time to dally. When the Cobra rider fails to return, the sultan's men will scour the Rehajid road first. Unless the sultan wishes to challenge the Red Sands on equal terms with us, we will be safe once we leave Julli for the high desert. There we will be in Mitaali's hands.
    "If the gods favor us, we should reach Julli early tomorrow."
    Marix of Dosen had always believed deserts were infernos both day and night. He rapidly changed his mind on the Red Sands. By the time the Fire Star rose in the southwest, he was blue with cold. The Faziri cloak was a pretty piece of cloth, suitable for parades, but it held precious little warmth.
    The others trudged on in silence, conversation crushed by the enormity of the desert around them. Jadira led the horse as Tamakh rode. At midnight, he dismounted and bade her ride in his place. She demurred until Marix pointed out that if she fainted again, he, for one, was not going to carry her across the desert. The rocking motion of the horse soothed Jadira's tired body, and she slept, as nomads often did, slumped over the horse's neck.
    In sleep, Jadira left her companions. She journeyed through seasons past.
    The vale of Al Mirah ... a small cleft in the hills of Tabraq, flowing with sweet water and green with palms and shrubs. It was there, in the windy season of Jadira's thirteenth year, that she had met and been betrothed to her second cousin, Ramil gan Rustafiya. Ramil was renowned among the Sudiin for

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