When she blew out the candle to sleep； the image of the Fire Dancer was again before her eyes； the white…robed woman bursting into flame； but here behind the priory's thick walls it did not seem quite so frightening。 It had been just another unsettling occurrence in an unsettling world。
By late afternoon of the following day they had reached the spot where the Anitullean Road began to climb upward through the hill passes that led to Nabban proper。 They passed dozens of pilgrims and merchants who sat exhausted by the roadside； fanning themselves with wide…brimmed hats。 Some had merely stopped to rest and drink water； but several others were frustrated peddlers whose donkeys had proved reluctant to pull overloaded wagons up the steep road。
〃If we stop before dark；〃 Dinivan said； 〃we can stay the night in one of the hill towns。 Then it would be a short ride into the city in the morning。 For some reason； though； I am reluctant to take any longer than necessary。 If we ride past nightfall； we can reach the Sancellan Aedonitis before midnight。〃
Miriamele looked back down the road； then ahead； where it wound out of sight among the dry golden hills。 〃I wouldn't mind stopping；〃 she said。 〃I'm more than a little sore。〃
Dinivan looked worried。 〃I understand。 I am less used to riding than you are。 Princess； and my rump is smarting； too。〃 He blushed and laughed。 〃Your pardon； Lady。 But I feel that the sooner we reach the lector； the better。〃
Miriamele looked to Cadrach to see if he had something to add； but the monk was deep in his own private thoughts； swaying from side to side as his horse plodded uphill。 〃If you think there is any advantage in it at all；〃 she said at last； 〃then let us ride the night through if necessary。 Truthfully； though； I can't think what I might tell the lector…or that he might tell me…that would be spoiled if it waits another day。〃
〃There are many things changing； Miriamele；〃 Dinivan replied； lowering his voice； though the road in this spot was empty but for a farm… wagon creaking along half a furlong up the road。 〃In times like these； when all is uncertain and many dangers are still not pletely known； a chance for speed not taken is often regretted later。 This much wisdom I have。 With your permission； I will trust in it。〃
They rode all through the darkening evening and did not stop when the stars began to appear above the hills。 The road wound through the passes and then down； past more towns and settlements； until at last they reached the outskirts of the great city； lit with so many lamps that it outshone the sky。
The streets of Nabban were crowded； even as midnight approached。 Torches burned on every corner。 Jugglers and dancers performed in pools of flickering light； hoping for a coin or two from drunken passersby。 The taverns； their window shutters up on a cool summer night； spilled lantern light and noise out into the cobbled streets。
Miriamele was nodding with weariness as they left the Anitullean Road and followed the track of the Way of the Fountains up the Sancelline Hill。 The Sancellan Aedonitis loomed before them。 Its famous spire was only a slender thread of gold in the lamplight； but a hundred windows glowed with warm light。
〃Someone is always awake in God's house；〃 Dinivan said quietly。
As they climbed through the narrow streets； heading for the great square； Miriamele could see the pale； curving shapes of the Sancellan Mahistrevis' towers just beyond the Sancellan Aedonitis to the west。 The ducal castle sat on the rocky promontory at Nabban's outermost point； manding the sea view as Nabban itself had once manded the lands of men。
The two Sancellans； Miriamele thought； one built to rule the body； the other to rule the soul。 Well； the Sancellan Mahistrevis has fallen already to that father…murderer Benigaris； but the lector is a godly man…a good one； too； Dinivan says； and Dinivan is no fool。 At least there is hope there。
A seagull keened somewhere in the darkness above。 She felt a pang of regret。 If her mother had never married Elias； then Miriamele could have grown up and lived here； above the ocean。 This would have been her home。 She would be ing back to a place she belonged。
But if my mother had never married my father； she thought sleepily； I wouldn't be me anyway。 Stupid girl。
Their arrival at the doors of the lectoral palace was a confusing blur for Miriamele； who was finding it difficult to stay awake。 Several people greeted Dinivan warmly…he seemed to have many friends…and the next thing she knew； she was being shown to a room with a warm； soft bed。 She did not bother to take off anything but her boots； crawling beneath the blanket while still wrapped in her hooded cloak。 Hushed voices spoke in the corridor outside her room； then a little later she heard the Clavean bell tolling far above her； striking more times than she could count。
She fell asleep to the sound of distant singing。
Father Dinivan woke her in the morning with berries and milk and bread。 She ate sitting up in bed while the priest lit the candles and paced back and forth across the windownless room。
〃His Sacredness was up early this morning。 He was gone before I got to his chambers； out walking somewhere。 He often does that when he has something to think about； just takes to the corridors in his night robe。 He doesn't take anyone with him…except me； if I'm around。〃 Dinivan flashed a boyish smile。 〃This place is nearly as big as the Hayholt。 He could be anywhere。〃
Miriamele dabbed milk from her chin with a flapping sleeve。 〃Will he see us？〃
〃Of course。 As soon as he es back； I'm sure。 I wonder what he thinks about。 Ranessin is a deep man； deep as the sea； and like the sea； it is often difficult to tell what hides beneath a placid surface。〃
Miriamele shuddered； thinking of the kilpa in the Bay of Emettin。 She put her bowl down。 〃Shall I wear men's clothes？〃 she asked。
〃What？〃 Dinivan stopped； surprised by her question。 〃Oh。 To meet the lector； you mean。 I don't think anyone should know yet that you are here。 I would like to say that I trust my fellow priests with my life； and I suppose I do； but I have lived and worked here too long to trust tongues not to wag。 I did bring you some cleaner robes。〃 He gestured to a bundle of garments lying on a stool； beside a basin of water that steamed faintly。
〃So if you are ready and have finished breaking your fast； let us be off。〃 He stood； waiting expectantly。
Miriamele stared at the clothes for a moment； then back at Father Dinivan； whose face wore a distracted half…frown。 〃Could you turn around；〃 she asked at last； 〃so I can change？〃
Father Dinivan gaped for a moment； then blushed furiously； much to Miriamele's secret amusement。 〃Princess； forgive me！ How could I be so discourteous？ Forgive me； I will leave at once。 I will be back for you soon。 My apologies。 I am thinking of so many other things this morning。〃 He backed out of the room； closing the door carefully behind him。
When he was gone； Miriamele laughed and rose from bed。 She shucked the old robes over her head and washed herself； shivering； noting with more interest than dismay how sun…browned her hands and wrists had bee。 They were like a barge…man's hands； she thought with some satisfaction。 How her ladies…in…waiting would wince if they could see her！
The water was warm； but the chamber itself was cold； so when she finished she hurriedly pulled on the clean clothes。 Running her hands through her short…cropped hair； she considered washing it； too； but de… cided against it； thinking of the drafty corridors。 The cold reminded her of young Simon； walking somewhere in the chilly north。 In an impulsive moment she had given him her favorite blue scarf； a favor that now seemed pitifully inadequate。 Still； she had meant it well。 It was too thin to keep him warm； but perhaps it would help him remember the frightening journey they had survived together。 Perhaps he would take heart。
She found Dinivan in the hall outside； trying his best to look patient。 Back in his familiar home； the priest seemed like a war…horse awaiting battle； full of trembling need to go； to do。 He took her elbow and led her gently