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d levers and such。 He studied a great deal about Natural Philosophy； before he 。。。 changed。〃 Dinivan lifted the hand lamp to the large wick and held it there。 〃The Aedon only knows how much oil this great thing must burn；〃 he said。 After some moments it caught and the flame rose。 The shield on the wall did make it brighter； even though failing sunlight still streamed in through the wide windows。
〃There are snuffers hanging on the wall；〃 Dinivan said； pointing at a pair of long staves； each with a metal cup on one end。 〃We must remember to put it out in the morning。〃
When they had returned to the second floor； Dinivan suggested they look in on Cadrach。 Trailing after； Miriamele turned and went back for the pitcher of water and some grapes。 There was really no sense starving him to death。
The monk was up； sitting on the lone chair； staring out through the window at the twilit； slate…blue bay。 He was withdrawn； and at first did not respond to Miriamele's offer of food； but at last took a drink of water。 After a moment he accepted the grapes as well。
〃Padreic；〃 Dinivan said； leaning close； 〃do you not remember me？ I am Dinivan。 We were friends once。〃
〃I recognize you； Dinivan；〃 Cadrach said at last。 His hoarse voice echoed strangely in the small round room。 〃But Padreic ec…Crannhyr is long dead。 There is only Cadrach now。〃 The monk avoided Miriamele's eyes。
Dinivan watched him intently。 〃Have you no wish to speak？〃 he asked。 〃There is nothing vou can have done that would make me think badly of you 〃
Cadrach looked up； a smirk on his round face； his gray eves full of pain。 〃Oh； is that true？ Nothing so foul I might have done that Mother Church and。。。 and our other friends。。。 would not take me back？〃 He laughed bitterly and waved his hand in disgust。 〃You lie； brother Dinivan。 There are crimes beyond forgiveness； and a special place prepared for their perpetrators。 〃 Angry； he turned away and would not speak any more。
Outside the waves murmured as they struck the rocky coast and fell back； hushed voices that seemed to wele the settling night。
Tiamak watched Older Mogahib； Roahog the Potter； and the other elders climb into the rocking flatboat。 Their faces were grave； as befitted the ceremonial occasion。 The ritual feather necklaces drooped in the damp heat。
Mogahib stood uneasily in the stern of the boat and turned to look back。 〃Do not fail us； Tiamak son of Tugumak；〃 he croaked。 The ancient one frowned and impatiently brushed the leaves of his headdress out of his eyes。 〃Tell the drylanders that the Wrannamen are not their slaves。 Your people have given you their greatest trust。〃 Older Mogahib was helped to sit down by one of his great…nephews。 The overloaded boat wallowed away down the watercourse。
Tiamak made a sour face and looked down at the Summoning Stick they had given him； its surface knobby with carvings。 The Wrannamen were upset because Benigaris； the new master of Nabban； had demanded greater tithes of grain and jewels； as well as young sons from the houses of the Wran to e and serve on the holdings of Nabbanai nobles。 The elders wanted Tiamak to go and speak for them； to protest this further meddling by the drylanders in the lives of the Wrannamen。
So yet another responsibility was now laid on Tiamak's slender shoulders。 Had any of his people ever said one respectful word to him about his learning？ No； they treated him as little more than a madman； someone who had turned his back on the Wran and his people to follow the ways of the drylanders…until they needed someone to write or speak to the Nabbanai or Perdruinese in their own tongue。 Then； it was 〃Tiamak； do your duty。 〃
He spat from the porch of his house and watched the green water ripple below。 He pulled up his ladder and left it lying in a heap instead of neatly rolled as was usual。 He was feeling very bitter。
One good thing would e of this； he decided later while waiting for his water pot to boil。 If he went to Nabban； as his tribesmen insisted； he would be able to visit his wise friend who lived there and find out if anything more could be discovered about Doctor Morgenes' strange note。 He had been fretting over it for weeks； yet felt no closer to a solution。 His messenger birds to fat Ookequk in Yiqanuc had returned； their messages unopened。 That was troubling。 The birds he had sent to Doctor Morgenes had returned as well； but that； although disappointing； was less worrIsorne than Ookequk's silence； since Morgenes had said m his last note that he might not be able to municate for some while。 Neither had his messages been answered by the witch woman who lived in Aldheorte Forest； or by his friend in Nabban。 Tiamak had only sent those last birds out a few weeks ago； however； so they still might reply。 But if I am traveling to Nabban； he realized； I will not see any replies for two months or more。
In fact； now that he thought of it； what would he do with his birds？ He didn't have nearly enough seed to keep them penned for the entire time he would be gone； and he certainly couldn't take them all with him。 He would have to turn them loose to feed for themselves； hoping that they would stay close to his little house in the banyan tree so he could recapture them when he returned。 And if they flew away and did not e back； what would he do？ He would have to train more； that was all。 Tiamak's sigh was subsumed in the hiss of steam escaping from beneath the pot lid。 As he dropped in the yellowroot to steep； the little scholar tried to remember the prayer for a safe journey that one should make to He Who Always Steps on Sand； but could only think of the Showing…the…Hiding…Places…of…Fish prayer； which was not really appropriate。 He sighed again。 Even though he didn't quite believe in his people's gods anymore； it never hurt to pray…but one really ought to say the right prayer。
As long as he was pondermg such things； what would he do with that damnable parchment Morgenes talked about in his letter…or seemed to talk about； for how could the old doctor know that Tiamak had it？ Should he take it with him and risk losing it？ But he had to； if he was going to show it to his friend in Nabban and ask his advice。
So many problems。 They seemed to be crowding his head like black…flies； buzzing and buzzing。 He had to think it all through clearly…especially if he was to leave in the morning for Nabban。 He had to look at each piece of this puzzle。
First Morgenes' message； which he had read and reread dozens of times in the four moons or so since he had received it。 He took it from the top of the wooden chest and smoothed it； leaving smudges with his yellowroot… stained hands。 He knew the contents by heart。
Doctor Morgenes wrote of his fears that 〃。。。the time of the Conqueror Star was surely upon them…whatever that might mean…and that Tiamak's help would be needed 〃。。。if certain dreadful things which…it is said…are hinted at in the infamous lost book of the priest Nisses。。。〃 were to be avoided。 But what things？ 〃The infamous lost book 。 。 。〃…that was Nisses' Du Svardenvyrd； as any scholar knew。
Tiamak reached down into the chest and removed a leaf…wrapped bundle； unrolling it to