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She looked down at the monk； who lay curled in exhausted； fitful sleep； his head propped on the bench beside her。 Cadrach's mouth was open； his breath ing in little gasps as though even in his dreams he battled for air。 His pink face was being even pinker。 Miriamele lifted her hand and peered upward at the sun through shielding fingers。 It had been a cold summer； but here in the middle of the water the sun beat down mercilessly。
Without thinking about it too much； she took her threadbare cloak and draped it over Cadrach's forehead； shading his face。 Lenti； watching silently from the rowing bench； scowled and shook his head。 In the bay beyond his shoulder； Miriamele saw something smooth break the water； then slip sinuously back into the deeps。
For a while she watched the gulls and pelicans whirling through the air； returning to the coastal rocks to land with a great back…flapping of wings。 The gulls' cold cries reminded her of Meremund； her childhood home on the coast of Erkynland。
I could stand on the southern wall there and watch the rivermen pushing up and down the Gleniwent。 From the western wall I could see the ocean。 I was a princess； trapped by my position； yet I had every thing I wanted。 Now look at me。
She snorted in disgust； occasioning another unpleasant stare from Lenti。 Now I'm free to adventure； she thought； and I'm more a prisoner than ever。 I go about in disguise； yet thanks to this traitorous monk； I am better…announced than I ever was at court。 People I hardly know deliver me from hand to hand like a favorite trinket。 And Meremund is lost to me forever； unless 。 。 。
The wind ruffled her shorn hair。 She felt quite hollow。
Unless what？ Unless my father changes？ He will never change。 He has destroyed Uncle Josua…killed Josua！ Why should he ever turn back？ Nothing will ever be as it was。 The only hope of things getting better died with Naglimund。 All their plans； the old Rimmersman Jamauga's legends； the talk of magical swords 。 。 。 and all the people who lived theregone。 So what is left？ Unless Father changes or dies； I will be a fugitive forever。 But he will never change。 And if he dies…what is left of me； I'll die； too。 Staring out at the Bay of Emettin's metallic sheen； she thought about her father as he once had been； remembering the time when she had been three years of age and he had first lifted her onto a horse。 Miriamele could picture that moment as clearly as if it had been only days ago instead of her whole life。 Elias had grinned with pride as she clung； terrified； to what seemed a monster's back。 She had not fallen； and she had stopped crying as soon as he swung her back down。
How can one person； even a king； let such ugliness loose on the land as my father has？ He loved me； once。 Perhaps he still does…but he has poisoned my life。 Now he seeks to poison all the world。 The waves slapped as the rocks drew nearer； gold…capped by the late morning sun。
Lenti and the other servitor unshipped the oars； using them to guide the boat between the craggy rocks that thrust up on every side。 As they came close to the shore and the water became more translucent； Miriamele again saw something break the surface close by。 There was a brief shimmer of glossy gray before it vanished with a splash； then reappeared a moment later on the far side of the boat； a long stone's throw away。
Lenti saw her staring and turned to look over his shoulder。 What he saw brought a look of fear to his stolid face。 After a muttered exchange； he and his panion redoubled their efforts； hurrying the boat in toward shore。
〃What is it；〃 the princess asked； 〃a shark？〃
Lenti did not look up。 〃Kilpa；〃 he snapped； rowing hard。
Miriamele stared； but now saw only low waves breaking into spray against the rocks。 〃Kilpa in the Bay of Emettin？〃 she said incredulously。 〃Kilpa never e in so far！ They are deep…sea dwellers。〃
〃Not nowadays；〃 Lenti growled。 〃Been deviling ships all along the coast。 Any fool knows so。 Now be quiet！〃 He panted； pulling at the oars。 Disquieted； Miriamele continued to stare。 Nothing else disturbed the bay's placid surface。
When the keel rasped on sand； Lenti and the other rower leaped out and quickly dragged the boat up onto the beach。 Together they lifted Cadrach out and dumped him unceremoniously onto the ground； where he lay； quietly moaning。 Miriamele was left to shift for herself。 She waded the half…dozen steps with her monk's robe held high。
A man in a priest's black cassock was picking his way down to the beach by the steep cliff path。 He reached the bottom and came striding across the sand toward them。
〃I suppose this is the slave trader I am to be delivered to？〃 Miriamele said in her frostiest tone as she squinted at the approaching figure。 Lenti and his panion； staring nervously at the bay； did not reply。
〃Ho； there！〃 the black…robed man called。 His voice was loud and cheerful above the sea's somnolent roar。
Miriamele looked at him； then looked again； astonished。 She took a couple of steps toward the newer。 〃Father Dinivan？〃 she asked haltingly。 〃Could it be you？〃
〃Princess Miriamele！〃 he said happily。 〃Here you are。 I am so glad。〃 His wide； homely smile made him look like a young boy； but the curly hair around his shaven scalp was touched with gray。 He dropped briefly to a knee before rising to look her over carefully。 〃I wouldn't have known you from much farther away than this。 I was told you were traveling as a boy…quite effective。 And you've turned your hair black。〃
Miriamele's mind was awhirl； but a great burden seemed abruptly lifted from her spirit。 Of all those who had visited her father's households in Meremund and the Hayholt； Dinivan had been one of the few who had been a real friend； giving her truth where others offered only flattery； bringing her both outland gossip and good advice。 Father Dinivan was chief secretary to Lector Ranessin； the master of Mother Church； but he had always been so humble and forthing that Miriamele often had to remind herself of the exalted position he held。
〃But 。 。 。 what are you doing here？〃 she said at last。 〃Have you e to 。。。 to what？ To save me from the slave traders？〃
Dinivan laughed。 〃I am the slave trader； my lady。〃 He tried to pose a more serious expression； but had little luck。 〃 'Slave traders'…Blessed Usires； what did old Streawe tell you？ Well； time for that later。〃 He turned to Miriamele's captors。 〃You two。 Here is your master's seal。〃 He held up a parchment with an 〃S〃 mark in red wax at the bottom… 〃You
may go back and give the count my thanks。〃
Lenti inspected the seal in a cursory way。 He looked worried。
〃Well？〃 said the priest impatiently。 〃Is anything wrong？〃
〃There's kilpa out there；〃 Lenti declared mournfully。
〃There are kilpa everywhere in these evil times；〃 Dinivan said； then smiled charitably。 〃But it is midday； and you are two strong men。 I think you have little to fear。 Are you armed？〃
Streawe's servant drew himself up to his full height and stared imperiously at the priest。 〃I have a knife；〃 he said sternly。
〃Ohe； avo stetto；〃 his panion echoed in Perdruinese。
〃Well； I'm sure you'll have no problems；