protect you any longer； and I certainly will not go charging out of。。。 〃
He cut her off in mid…speech。 〃No。 It is nothing I have done…at least； nothing I have done tonight…and the danger is not to me so much as to you。 But that danger is very great。 We must flee！〃
For several moments Miriamele could not think of a thing to say。 Cadrach indeed looked very frightened； a change from his usual veiled expression。
He broke the silence at last。 〃Please； my lady； I know I have been a faithless panion； but I have done some good； as well。 Please trust me this once。 You are in terrible danger！〃
〃Danger from what？〃
〃Pryrates is here 〃
She felt a wave of relief wash over her。 Cadrach's wild words had frightened her after all。 〃Idiot。 I know that。 I spoke to the lector yester… day。 I know all about Pryrates。〃
The stocky monk rose to his feet。 His jaw was set in a very determined way。 〃That is one of the most foolish things you have ever said； Princess。 You know very little about him； and you should be grateful for that。 Grateful！〃 He reached out and seized her arm。
〃Stop that！ How dare you！〃 She tried to slap at his face； but Cadrach leaned away from the blow； maintaining his grip。 He was surprisingly strong。
〃Saint Muirfath's Bones！〃 he hissed。 〃Don't be such a fool； Miriamele！〃 He leaned toward her； holding her gaze with his own wide eyes。 There was； she fleetingly noticed； no smell of wine about him。 〃If I must treat you like a child； I will；〃 the monk growled。 He pushed her backward until she toppled onto the cot； then stood over her； angry yet fearful。 〃The lector has declared Pryrates and your father exmunicate。 Do you know what that means？〃
〃Yes！〃 she said； her voice almost a shout。 〃I'm glad！〃
〃But Pryrates is not glad and something bad will happen。 It will happen very soon。 You should not be here when it does。〃
〃Bad？ What do you mean？ Pryrates is alone in the Sancellan。 He came with half a dozen of my father's guardsmen。 What can he do？〃
〃And you claim to know all about him；〃 Cadrach shook his head in disgust； then turned and began scooping Miriamele's loose clothing and few possessions into her traveling bag。 〃I； for one；〃 he said； 〃do not want to see whatever he will be getting up to。〃
She watched him for a moment； dumbfounded。 Who was this person who looked like Cadrach； but shouted and ordered and grabbed her arm like a river…barge bravo？ 〃I will not go anywhere until I talk to Father Dinivan；〃 she said at last。 Some of the edge had disappeared from her voice。
〃Splendid；〃 Cadrach said。 〃Whatever you wish。 Just prepare yourself to go。 I'm sure that Dinivan will agree with me…if we can find him at all。〃
Reluctantly； she bent to help him。 〃Just tell me this；〃 she said 〃Do you swear that we're in danger？ And that it's not something you did？〃
He stopped。 For the first time since he had entered the room； Cadrach's odd half…smile appeared； but this one twisted his face into a mask of terrible sorrow。 〃We have all done things that we regret； Miriamele。 I have made mistakes that set God the Highest to weeping on His great throne。〃 He shook his head； angry at wasting time with talk。 〃But this danger is real and immediate； and there is nothing we can either of us do to make it less。 Thus； we shall flee。 Cowards always survive。〃
Seeing his face； Miriamele suddenly did not ever want to know what Cadrach had done to make him hate himself so much。 She shuddered and turned away； looking for her boots。
The Sancellan Aedonitis seemed strangely deserted； even for the late evening hour。 A few priests had gathered in the various mon rooms where they sat gossiping in hushed tones； a handful more strode the corridors with lighted candles； on errands of one sort or another。 Except for these few； the halls were empty。 The torches burned fitfully in their sockets； as though troubled by restless breezes。
Miriamele and Cadrach were in a deserted upstairs gallery； passing from the chambers where visiting churchmen stayed and into the administrative and ceremonial heart of God's House； when the monk pulled Miriamele over to a shadowed window alcove。
〃Put the candle down and e look；〃 he said quietly。 She wedged the taper m a crevice between two tiles and leaned forward。 The cold air struck her face like a slap。
〃What should I look at？〃 〃There； below。 Do you see all those men with torches？〃 He tried to point within the confines of the narrow window。 Miriamele could see at least a score of men in the courtyard below； amored and cloaked； bearing spears on their shoulders。
〃Yes；〃 she said slowly。 The soldiers did not appear to be doing much more than warming their hands at the courtyard fire…cairns。 〃So？〃
〃Those are from Duke Benigaris' household guard；〃 Cadrach said grimly。 〃Someone is expecting trouble tonight； and expecting it to be here。〃
〃But I thought soldiers were never allowed to bear arms in the Sancellan Aedonitis。〃 The spearpoints caught the torchlight like tongues of flame。
〃Ah； but Duke Benigaris himself is a guest here tonight； since he attended the lector's banquet。〃
〃Why didn't he go back to the Sancellan Mahistrevis？〃 She stepped away from the drafty window。 〃It's not very far。〃
〃An excellent question；〃 Cadrach replied； a sour smile playing over his shadow…striped face。 〃Why indeed？〃
Duke Isgrimnur tested Kvalnir's keen edge with his thumb and nodded with satisfaction。 He slipped his whetstone and jar of oil back into his bag。 There was something very calming about sharpening his sword。 A pity he had to leave it behind。 He sighed and wrapped it in rags once more； then pushed it underneath his pallet。
It wouldn't do to go see the lector carrying a sword； he thought； no matter how much better it'd make me feel。 I doubt his guards would take kindly to it。
Not that Isgrimnur was going to see the lector directly。 It was very unlikely that a strange monk would be allowed into the Shepherd of Mother Church's bedchamber； but Dinivan's chambers were close by。 The lector's secretary had no guards。 Also； Dinivan knew Isgrimnur and thought highly of him。 When the priest realized who his late…night visitor really was； he would listen carefully to what the duke had to say。
Still； Isgrimnur felt his stomach fluttering； as it had before countless battles。 That had been the reason he'd brought out his sword： Kvalnir hadn't been unsheathed more than twice since he'd left Naglimund； and certainly hadn't seen any duty that would have dulled her Dverning…forged blade； but honing his sword gave a man something to do when the waiting became difficult。 There was something in the air tonight； a queasy expectancy that reminded Isgrimnur of the shores of Clodu during the Battle of the Lakelands。
Even King John； blooded war…hawk that he was； had been nervous that night； knowing that ten thousand Thrithings…men waited somewhere in the darkness beyond the sentry fires； and knowing also that the plains…dwellers were no adherents of orderly dawn starting…times for battles or any other such conventions of civilized warfare。
Prester John had e to the fire that night； joining his young Rimmersman friend…Isgrimnur had not yet inherited his father's dukedom… for a jug of wine and a bit of conversation。 As they talked； the king had taken stone and polishing rag to fabled Bright…Nail。 They spent the night yarning away。 a little self…consciously at first； with many a pause to listen for unusual noises； then with increasing ease as dawn approached and it became obvious the Thrithings…men planned no nighttime raids。
John told Isgrimnur tales of his youth on Warinsten…which he described as an island of backward and superstition…plagued bumpkins… and of his early travels on the mainland of Osten Ard。 Isgrimnur was fascinated by these unexpected glimpses of the king's early life： Prester John was already nearly fifty years old as they sat by the fire at Lake Clodu； and to the young Rimmersman might as well have been king since the beginning of time。 But when asked about his legendary destruction of the red worm Shurakai； John had waved the question away like an irritating fly。 He proved no more willing to discuss h