They were on the move again. The boats glided past the rocky shore, and the moon cast strange shadows on land and water. They were all quiet, and in their thoughts they replayed the harrowing events of the last few hours.

After the shaman had been killed, the whole assembly had erupted in confusion. Senhet took his chance, and quickly guided his little group down the slopes, through the trees and to the river where the boats were tied up. They had no time to gather anything, no time to take anything from their homes. They were running for their lives. But they were slow, since the older ones could not run, and the little ones had to be carried. The pursuers were not long in catching up to them. Spears whistled around them. They stopped, and turned to face the enemy. How strange, that the ones they fought were their neighbours, comrades a short time ago. The sun had gone down, leaving a crimson lake in the sky behind the trees.

"Get them, boys!" a voice boomed, and Asha saw a spearman aim at her son. Senhet was unarmed, and was carrying his young children in his arms. His companions were themselves grappling with their attackers. Asha gathered up all her strength, and lunged forward between the spear and her son. She felt a hot, searing pain as the spear caught her just below the collar bone. She fell.

"Mother!" Senhet's voice was almost a howl. He lunged at his attacker. The skirmish did not last long, as Senhet and his men fought like only cornered men can fight, for their lives. The pursuers soon gave up and retreated back towards the village.

Asha knew she was dying. She lay in the boat, where they had carried her. She had lived a long and full life, travelled far from the little mountain village where she was born. She saw herself as she had been, a young girl looking out at the horizon, wondering what lay beyond the familiar forests and villages that she knew.

She had been to the Great City, she had looked upon the shining water, she had crossed deserts and rivers. She had known great love, and great sorrow. She had no regrets, and welcomed the peace that death would bring.

She looked at her son, her brave son, who reminded her so much of his father. She looked around at his family, and at the brave people who had cast their lot with him. She knew they would survive.

Strange visions now shimmered before her eyes. She saw a sea of sand stretching into the distance. She saw a mighty river, and boats sailing on it, the like of which she had never seen, and great cities on its banks. She knew somehow that she was seeing the future of her descendants, and a great contentment filled her. She heard a bark, familiar as her own voice, and saw again her beloved dog, her Moti, wagging his tail, and squirming in excitement. Next to him was Vayu, smiling at her. She knew they waited, and she was impatient to join them.

"Good bye. Do not grieve. I am happy," she wanted to say, but could only smile, and then she was gone.