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he unseasonable weather； the narrow； winding streets were riotous with merrymakers。
Miriamele stepped back as a half…dozen men dressed as chained apes were led past； clanking and staggering。 Seeing her standing in the shadowy doorway of one of the shuttered houses； a drunken actor turned； his false fur matted with rainwater； and paused as if to say something to her。 Instead； the ape…man belched； smiled apologetically through the mouth hole of his skewed mask； then returned his sorrowful gaze to the uneven cobblestones before him。
As the apes tumbled away； Cadrach reappeared suddenly at her side。 〃Where have you been？〃 she demanded。 〃You have been gone nearly an hour。〃
〃Not so long； lady； surely。〃 Cadrach shook his head。 〃I have been finding our certain things that will be useful。 Very useful。〃 He looked around。 〃Ah； but it's a riotous night； is it not？〃
Miriamele tugged Cadrach out into the street once more。 〃You'd never know there was war in the north and people dying；〃 she said disapprovingly。 〃You wouldn't know that Nabban may soon be at war； too； and Nabban's just across the bay。〃
〃Of course not； my lady；〃 Cadrach huffed； matching his shorter strides to hers as best he could。 〃It is the way of the Perdruinese not to know such things。 That is how they remain so cheerfully uninvolved in most conflicts； managing to arm and supply both the eventual victor and the eventual vanquished…and turn a neat profit。〃 He grinned and wiped water from his eyes。 〃Now there's something your Perdruin…folk would be going to war about； protecting their profit。〃
〃Well； I'm surprised no one's invaded this place。〃 The princess wasn't sure why the heedlessness of Ansis Pelippe's citizens should nettle her so； but she was nevertheless feeling exceedingly nettlesome。
〃Invade？ And muddy the waterhole from which all drink？〃 Cadrach seemed astonished。 〃My dear Miriamele 。 。 。 your pardon； my dear Malachias…I must remember； since we will soon be moving in circles where your true name is not unfamiliar…my dear Malachias； you have much to learn about the world。〃 He paused for a moment as another gang of costumed folk swirled by； engaged in a loud； drunken argument about the words to some song。 〃There；〃 the monk said； gesturing after them； 〃there is an example of why that which you say will never e to pass。 Were you hearing that little debate？〃
Miriamele pulled her hood lower against the slanting rain。 〃Some of it；〃 she replied。 〃What does it matter？〃
〃It is not the subject of the argument that matters； but the method。 They were all Perdruinese； unless my ear for accents has gone wrong from all that ocean roar…yet they were arguing in the Westerling tongue。〃
〃So？〃
〃Ah；〃 Cadrach squinted his eyes as if looking for something down the crowded； lantern…lit street； but continued speaking all the while。 〃You and I are speaking Westerling； but except for your Erkynlandish fellow…countrymen…and not even all of them…no one else speaks it among their own people。 Rimmersmen in Elvritshalla use Rimmerspakk； we Hernystiri speak our own tongue when in Crannhyr or Hernysadharc。 Only the Perdruinese have adopted your grandfather King John's universal language； and to them it is now truly their first language。〃
Miriamele stopped in the middle of the slickened roadway； letting the press of celebrants eddy around her。 A thousand oil lamps raised a false dawn above the housetops。 〃I'm tired and hungry。 Brother Cadrach； and I don't understand what you are getting at。〃
〃Simply this。 The Perdruinese are what they are because they strive to please…or； put more clearly； they know which way the wind is blowing and they run that direction； so the wind is always at their backs。 If we Hernystir…folk were a conquering people； the merchants and sailors of Perdruin would be practicing their Hernystiri。 'If a king wants apples；' as the Nabbanai say； 'Perdruin plants orchards。' Any other nation would be foolish to attack such a pliant friend and helpful ally。〃
〃Then you are saying that the souls of these Perdruin…folk are for sale？〃 Miriamele demanded。 〃That they have no loyalty to any but the strong？〃
Cadrach smiled。 〃That has the ring of disdain； my lady； but it seems an accurate summing up； yes。〃
〃Then they're no better than…〃 she looked around carefully； fighting down anger； 〃…no better than whores！〃
The monk's weathered face took on a cool； distant cast； his smile was now a mere formality。 〃Not everyone can stand up and be a hero； Princess；〃 he said quietly。 〃Some prefer to surrender to the inevitable and
salve their consciences with the gift of survival。〃
Miriamele thought about the obvious truth of what Cadrach had said as they walked on； but could not understand why it made her so unutterably sad。
The cobbled paths of Ansis Pelippe not only wound tortuously； in many places they climbed in gouged stone steps up the very face of the hill； then spiraled back down； doubling and redoubling； crossing each other at odd angles like a basket of serpents。 On either side the houses stood shoulder to shoulder； most with windows shadowed like the closed eyes of sleepers； some ablaze with light and music。 The foundations of the houses tilted upward from the streets； each structure clinging precariously to the hillside so that their upper stories seemed to lean over the constricted roads。 As her hunger and fatigue began to make her giddy； Miriamele felt at times that she was back beneath the close…stooping trees of Aldheorte Forest。
Perdruin was a cluster of hills surrounding Sta Mirore； the central mountain。 Their lumpy backs rose up almost directly from the island's rocky verges； looking over the Bay of Emettin。 Perdruin's silhouette thus resembled a mother pig and her feeding young。 There was little flat land anywhere； except in the saddles where high hills shouldered together； so the villages and towns of Perdruin clung to the faces of these hills like gulls' nests。 Even Ansis Pellipe； the great seaport and the seat of Count Streawe's house； was built on the steep slopes of a promontory that the residents called Harborstone。 In many places the citizens of Ansis Pellipe could stand on one of the capital's hill…hugging streets and wave to their neighbors on the thoroughfare below。
〃1 must eat something；〃 Miriamele said at last； breathing heavily。 They stood at a turnout of one of the looping streets； a place where they could look down between two buildings to the lights of the foggy harbor below。 The dull moon hung in the clouded sky like a chip of bone。
〃I am also ready to stop； Malachias；〃 panted Cadrach。
〃How far is this abbey？〃
〃There is no abbey； or at least we are not going to such a place。〃
〃But you told the captain 。 。 … oh。〃 Miriamele shook her head； feeling the damp heaviness of her hood and cloak； 〃Of course。 So； then； where are we going？〃
Cadrach stared at the moon and laughed quietly。 〃Wherever we wish； my friend。 1 do think there is a tavern of some repute at the top of this street： I must confess I was leading us in that general direction。 Certainly not because I enjoy climbing these goirach hills。〃
〃A tavern？ Why not a hostel； so we can fin