The song

At dawn, they pressed on toward Isemalrocath. Esus had hardly slept after Charyic’s song and she had spent the night trying to burrow into his side as if she felt cold no matter how close to him she got.

They did not stop during the day but it was still nearly dusk when they arrived. Miryil muttered that traveling on horseback they would have made better time. Esus looked at Charyic’s swollen ankles and knew they had done the best they could. He gave Miryil a stern frown.

Unlike last time, when the steward suggested they wait until morning, they were ushered directly into the Holy Father’s dining chambers with hardly a word.

The Holy Father smiled wryly on seeing Charyic, “I had hoped to postpone dinner until after hearing your song, but I think perhaps you should be refreshed before you begin.”

“Holy Father, she’s been singing and you need to hear it immediately.” Miryil’s words and tone made Esus’ lips twist into a frown.

“Last time you hissed at me to find my manners, Miryil. My Charyic needs to eat before she sings.”

“Perhaps one of you could tell me of her songs while she eats?” The Holy Father offered with a smile.

Esus saw the gesture he gave and servants tried to lead Charyic to the table. She held to his arm looking at them mistrustfully. The Holy Father gave him a curious look as Esus reassured her, “Eat something, my beauty. I’ll be right here.” And she reluctantly let herself be led to a seat.

By way of explanation, Esus sang softly,

“‘I have no fear for the harsh winds’ sheer,

For no wind can blow forever.

When you take flight my heart is light,

For my heart to you is tethered.

Birds in flight on the winds of war,

Joy on the wing, love forever more.’

She doesn’t go far from me. I think she feels nervous here.”

“Ah.” The Holy Father smiled indulgently. “She has nothing to fear here. Isemal is glad to have the falconet delivered, even if it required the King of Fools to compel her.”

Charyic grinned impishly at him before making the Iskesh gesture Esus knew as thanks.

“She thanks you.” Esus volunteered for her.

“How do you know?” Erech inquired curiously.

“Iskesh.” The Holy Father spoke disparagingly. “It’s less of a language and more of a divine gift. Thieves, worshippers of the King of Fools, find the motions and sounds easy to recognize and duplicate, and others, even when they try, have trouble.” He looked at Esus sharply. “How have you learned it?”

“When she held the staff she could speak, she tried to teach me to recognize a few words so that when she gave the staff to her god, she could still communicate with me.” Esus felt an unfamiliar uncomfortableness with the sharp mirrored eyes on him.

“What was the message from Wyil?” As the Holy Father asked, Esus heard Charyic begin to chitter. “I will not use his other name. He entered Isemal’s house disguised as a woman, he will be called by that name.”

Charyic grinned and shook her head. The gestures she made were quick and coupled with soft sounds as if she were whispering.

The Holy Father looked as if he didn’t know whether to chide her or laugh when she had finished. He looked back to Esus, “The message.”

Esus spoke from memory, “Ribbons and bells, ribbons and bells. Mischief is kind to songbirds. Gifts for them all. Stole the sky. Wives and lovers.”

“That makes no sense.” Ivhir said softly.

“It does if it was intended for your ears.” The Holy Father smiled. “Mischief is kind to songbirds, indeed.” He made a gesture that made Charyic laugh and she began to eat.

The songs of rivers of blood and an army of the damned and noble sacrifice and death in glorious battle were relayed and discussed. By the time they had finished, Charyic had eaten and drunk her fill. She cleared her throat and let the song spill out.

The Bringers’ Holy Light falls dim

Hollowed and darkly shrouded

The twilight follows proud and grim

Swallowing light unguarded

Favored offers blood and war

To root and bone in darkness

Spreads the weird that all men fear

His sword will prove his sharpness

The Bringers lost a ray of Light

Bright argent turned true black

Favored wields a god’s grave might

Lost crown he will have back

Rivers of blood flow dark and thick

Armies of men fall low

To rise again as the Dread King bids

Following in his tow

The dead and Damned bow to his crown

And go where the sword directs them

Those still living also bow down

In hope that his wrath neglects them

Yet light in the dark shines brightest

In battle men do fall

Who stands above and burns like pyres

May dying spare them all

When the battle looks the grimmest

And glory shows her blood red hue

Those hard pressed will fight the fiercest

To gain victory overdue

Hope climbs above on wings of joy

Light blesses feathers soft

Favored falls at his last ploy

As long as hope’s aloft

Above and below love’s roots do grow

Some wounds can yet be mended

A lover’s choice can overthrow

Or see hope’s flight be ended

The Holy Father sat unmoving after the song had finished. “Malies goes too far. “

“As long as Esus is safe, Malav fails.” Miryil said carefully.

“Falls. She said he falls.” Ivhir corrected her.

“Above and below love’s roots do grow/ Some wounds can yet be mended/ A lover’s choice can overthrow/ Or see hope’s flight be ended,” Erech repeated. “What does that mean?”

“My beauty will have to choose.” Esus looked at her baffled.

“She’ll choose you. I don’t think that’s a concern.” Miryil’s dismissive words made the Holy Father shake his head.

“She could be Malav’s queen or a Light Bringer’s consort. With the power he will be wielding, I would not take the choice for granted.” The Holy Father’s mirrored eyes searched her face as if the answer might be written there.

Charyic looked at him tiredly and Esus stepped forward to stroke her hair. “She doesn’t have to decide it tonight.”

Erech shook his head. “Aside from that, what are love’s roots? How can roots grow above and below? What wounds?” He looked at the Holy Father with his thin lips pressed into a perplexed line. “That’s going to have something to do with her choice and whether or not it’s Esus or Malav that falls isn’t it?”

The Holy Father smiled faintly. “Perhaps we will see more clearly in the morning. Your rooms should be readied, if you wish to eat, please, join me.” He gestured at the table. “Charyic, perhaps you might wish to bathe while Esus eats?”

Esus felt her reach up and grip his wrist as if she were afraid she would be taken away. “We stay together, Holy Father.”

He smiled indulgently. “Then perhaps she will regale us with the tale of your escape from Luzoron.”

Charyic looked dubious, opening her mouth and closing it again before blurting out, “You’re going to let me speak?”

The Holy Father looked as if he might laugh. “You’ve delivered your song, until there is another, the compulsion can be lifted.” He looked at her speculatively, “I would also like to hear exactly how you were bound to Malav?”

“Malies lifted the curse and let me speak as long as I was touching Malav or his staff.” Charyic drew Esus’ hand to her lips and kissed it, smiling up at him, “Have something to eat! I’m not going anywhere without you.”