Second part of Chapter One, this splits somewhat unevenly for which I apologise! As before, Part 1 and prologue will clarify a little.
Still needs some editing in places I think.

Burning sand, crawling insects, a thousand pinpricks all over her body. She wakes in the blistering heat, dried blood tightening the skin around her temple, puffy and bruised. She groans and hauls herself up, shaking the sudden dizziness away and fumbles around, searching for her mare. To be trapped in the desert alone is surely death; she curses softly, through parched lips and begins to stumble on. Death seems more acceptable in pursuit of a goal than quietly seated on the hot sand. After a while she comes across an outcrop of rock, sanctuary of a kind, for a while at least. She leans back against the rough surface, exhales and closes her eyes for a time to the dry heat. Time passes with slow, painful heart beats as her body slowly surrenders to the elements, gives up hope of reprieve. In some distant corner of her mind she hears hooves coming closer and closer; a voice too, calling,
'Hel-nar, Hel-nar...'
Then a pause and then again, more insistently,
'Hel-nar!, Hel-nar!' a note of panic in the voice now as its owner approaches the pile of rock. The voice belongs to a man, broad shoulders and muscled arms disguising fast approaching middle age as muscle begins to spread into fat. He is tall, burned deep brown by the sun, face lined by constant exposure to blowing sand and yet handsome still. His grey eyes speak of an oasis of calm, an escape from the stress and strain of the world. He spots his quarry, quickly dismounts and rushes to her side,
'Hel-nar, Hel-nar, wake up! Hush now, all will be well, let me take you away from here. Lucky your damn fool horse knows her way home at least even if she does not have the sense not to throw her rider.'
Quickly, efficiently he lifts her, as if her weight is inconsequential and binds her across his saddle. She struggles weakly and croaks, through cracked lips bitten raw,
'Jaris; how?'
'Enough. Lie quiet now, there will be time later for all your questions when we reach Nathar. Mine too, I swear I'd kill Ben-leret if the Gods had not already taken care of that. Traipsing off in search of some ranger....I knew this would bring nothing but trouble, I knew it!'

Leagues away, deep in the desert, the serpent servant crouches in the dust, bent double over a small pool of water. In the pool he sees an image of Hel-nar, blond hair flying, eyes widening in fear, then the image wavers and scatters in the light. He spits,
'Shaloth's teeth!' and dashes the water on the ground where it disappears, sucked up by the thirsty earth. Hands on knees, head down, he pauses for a while, pondering and listening, waiting for a sign, felt not heard. Behind him stands a tall, black-robed figure waiting also to see what may or may not come to pass. After a while, the robed figure speaks,
'What now? Are we to remain any longer in this God-forsaken hellpit of a hovel? Are we too to crawl in the dust like vermin'
'Peace Ashern, we will wait until the appointed time two days hence, by then we will have been summoned once again or can, I trust, resume our normal business.'
'Soon then Ashern-i-Nath'
'Soon enough, as I say' he pauses, 'Perhaps we may also dispense with this excessive formality? I find these titles that the Circle gifts us with most irksome. How is a man supposed to travel incognito when i-Nath follows him past every street corner on the mouths of all from urchins to princes?'
'As you wish, old friend, what shall it be then? For you, Mahirl perhaps and for me...Renarf will do for now I think. Now, if that is arranged to your satisfaction then may we return to the business at hand?'
'Certainly, certainly. Permit an old man his whims from time to time. You'll understand yourself as the years pass. When will you ever get over this Renarf nonsense? You do know that half the East Coast knows that to be a name of yours'
'...and the other half is called Renarf also! I know, he grinned, flashing white teeth beneath the deep cowl, 'Let it be, it has amused me in the past and will, I dare say, do so again. Besides, we cannot hope to elude our enemies, or indeed our allies, with false names and if we cannot fool them, what matter the rest? Inconsequential says I, let them believe what they may and scuffle after their own petty intrigues; we seek a greater prize.'