Ruha's camel had begun to limp, but the widow did not bother to dismount. After four days of travel on At'ar's Looking Glass, half the Mahwa were riding lame beasts. With the merciless goddess blazing down on the wind-burnished stones, the searing heat blistered even the tough pads of the camels' feet.

In order to reach his allies as quickly as possible, Sa'ar was pushing his tribe through the worst part of the day. Heat rose off the desert floor in rippling waves that gave the Looking Glass the appearance of a huge lake of molten rock. On the horizon, a line of tiny spires danced in the shimmering air. Though still so distant they looked like billows of violet smoke rather than minarets of desert rock, the obelisks were a welcome sight to Ruha's aching eyes. The stony towers marked the edge of At'ar's Looking Glass, and not far beyond lay the Mahwa's destination.

Upon sighting the spires, Sheikh Sa'ar had declared that the Mahwa would not sleep until they reached the Well of the Chasm. The declaration had delighted Lander, who was eager to reach the next tribe before the Zhentarim enslaved or destroyed it. Despite her weariness, Ruha shared the Harper's impatience, though for a different reason. The sooner he became convinced that the Bedine were responding to the Zhentarim threat, the sooner he would return to Sembia-taking her with him, of course.

The widow closed her eyes, hoping she could adjust to the new hitch in her camel's rolling gait. She tried to imagine the green valley of Archendale, where cold water filled the canyon and Mielikki's forest was so thick that At'ar could not penetrate its canopy. Try as she might, Ruha could not picture such a scene. She would simply have to go and see it with her own eyes.

"Don't fall asleep," warned a familiar voice. "It's a long way down and the landing is hard."

Ruha opened her eyes and saw that Lander had moved his camel closer to hers. She reacted by nudging her own mount away. "You mustn't!" she whispered, shaking her head. "If Kadumi sees us speaking, it may be his dagger that cuts you open."

"Surely he wouldn't violate the sheikh's orders," Lander returned. "You did say that he was an honorable boy."

"It is because he is an honorable boy that he would violate the sheikh's word," Ruha countered. "He would do anything to avenge a wrong against his dead brother."

The Harper seemed unimpressed. "Kadumi's blade is not one that I'm afraid of."

"Then you are a fool!" Ruha countered.

"Perhaps," Lander replied, shrugging. "But the sheikh's prohibition is against speaking to you without your brother-in-law present." He nodded toward the rear. "Kadumi's less than thirty yards away."

The widow did not need to look to know Lander spoke the truth. After Sa'ar's judgment, the jealous youth had even relinquished his scouting duties to watch her. He had barely let her out of his sight since.

Disregarding the Harper's reassurances, Ruha again steered her mount away. "He's supposed to hear what we say."

"What we say to each other is none of his business," Lander replied, not urging his camel any closer to Ruha's.

"That is not the Bedine way. What passes between us is very much his business." The widow's protests were due more to the desire to avoid trouble between Lander and Kadumi than to any respect for her people's tradition.

The Harper scoffed. "You aren't his property."

"Kadumi must protect his brother's marriage. It's a matter of family honor."

"His brother is dead!" Lander objected. Again, he guided his camel closer to Ruha's.

"For less than a month!" the widow answered, giving up and not bothering to move away. "I must mourn Ajaman for two years."

"And then what?" Lander asked, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, daring to give the Harper a wry glance. "In two years, I will be in Sembia, will I not?"

Her response drew an uncertain nod from Lander. "Perhaps, if that is what you want."

"Of course it's what I want!" Ruha hissed. "There's nothing for me with the Bedine."

"I truly hope you're right, Ruha, but how do you know there's anything for you in Sembia?" Lander asked. "You cannot imagine how different it is from Anauroch. For instance, women wear no veils, not even in public."

The Harper's revelation caught the widow by surprise. She started to claim she would do the same, then felt herself blushing and could not utter the words. "Their husbands permit this?" she asked, looking away.

Before Lander could respond, Kadumi's white camel edged between Ruha and the Harper. "You may not speak to this woman, berrani." He stared at Lander with a belligerent scowl, his hand brushing the hilt of his jambiya.

Lander eyed the gesture with a forbearing sneer, then laughed at the boy's bravado. "As I recall, Kadumi, Sheikh Sa'ar said that I cannot speak to her except when you are with us. Well, you are with us now, so I speak to her." The Harper turned to Ruha. "Shall I tell you more about Sembia?"

Though she would have liked to hear more, the widow shook her head. Ruha did not want Kadumi to know of her interest in the distant land, for she suspected his reaction would be violent if he knew she intended to leave him with the Mahwa and go with Lander. "I have heard enough of Sembia," she lied.

The Harper gave her an amused smirk. "Then I won't trouble you with more descriptions of it." He lashed his mount with the tail of his reins and trotted a dozen yards ahead.

"I wish to know what passed between you and the berrani," Kadumi demanded, looking from Lander's back to the widow's eyes.

Ruha felt herself growing increasingly angry at the boy's protective suspicion and the coldness with which he had treated her since learning that she could use magic. She turned to Kadumi with a condescending glower. "I want you to remember two things," she hissed. "First, if that berrani, as you call him, did not have the patience of a sheikh, he would have killed you with your own jambiya twice by now. If I were you, I would stop acting the fool and keep my hand away from it, lest he grow tired of hearing hollow threats."

Kadumi bristled at her rough treatment. "I am a Bedine warrior," he snapped. "I have killed three men!"

The youth's comment summoned the memory of the assault on Lander's back in her vision. She wondered if the attacker was destined to be her own brother-in-law. Immediately she twisted in her saddle to face Kadumi.

"You shall not kill that man!" she snarled.

The intensity of her reaction took Kadumi entirely by surprise. Once again, he seemed more like a confused boy than the hot-headed young man he had been playing lately.

A moment later, Kadumi collected his wits. "Lander is protected by the sheikh's difa," he said, neatly dodging the issue. "What is the second thing you want me to remember?"

"When you want something from me, you are to ask, not demand," she lectured sharply. "Before you have the right to demand anything of me, you must earn my respect."

Kadumi's bluster evaporated like a morning mist. His furrowed brow rose into an astonished arch, his set jaw fell slack, and his fiery eyes suddenly seemed very hurt and young. Ruha was about to balance her harsh words with some compassion when Kadumi spoke, his voice rather timid and meek.

"Very well," he said, "would you please tell me what passed between you and Lander? You and I are supposed to be family, so I have the right to know."

Beneath her veil, Ruha could not help but smile at the way Kadumi had phrased his request. It seemed to her the boy had actually taken her words to heart, but she did not intend to tell him of her plan to leave the Bedine. Even if he sympathized with her, he might still feel honor-bound to prevent her departure.