按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
what the Storm King's hand can inspire。 They wait for God to strike down the heretics。 But God does nothing。〃
〃That is a lie； Padreic；〃 Dinivan said hotly。 〃Or Cadrach； or whatever name you now choose。 For choosing is what matters。 God allows each man or woman to choose。 He does not pel love。〃 The monk snorted as if in disgust； but continued to stare at the priest。
〃That He certainly does not。〃
In a strange way； Miriamele thought； Cadrach seemed to be pleading with Dinivan； as though trying to show the lector's secretary something that Dinivan would not recognize。
〃God wishes 。 。 。〃 the priest began。
〃But if God does not cajole； and does not force； and does not respond to challenges from the Storm King or anyone else。〃 Cadrach interrupted； his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion； 〃why； why do you find it surprising that people think there is no God； or that He is helpless？〃
Dinivan stared for a moment； then shook his head angrily。 〃That is why Mother Church exists。 To give out God's word； so that people may decide。〃
〃People believe what they see；〃 Cadrach replied sadly； then dropped back into silent thought as they plodded slowly down toward the valley floor。
At midday they reached the crowded Anitullean Road。 Streams of people moved in each direction； eddying around wagons going to and from market。 Miriamele and her panions attracted little attention。 By sundown they had covered a great distance up the valley。
They stopped for the evening in Bellidan； one of the score of towns that had grown together along the road until it was nearly impossible to tell where one left off and the next began。 They slept at the local priory； where Dinivan's lectoral signet ring and exalted status made them the center of a great deal of interest。 Miriamele slipped off early to the small cell provided for her； not wanting to take the chance of her disguise being promised。 Dinivan explained to the monks that his panion was ill； then brought her a satisfying meal of barley soup and bread。 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