Pushed and pulled

Miryil had heard the concern in Ivhir’s re-telling of Charyic’s dreams. That woman was nothing but trouble, she had told Esus. That she was willing to carry messages for Malies after hearing that song was beyond concerning. If she weren’t embroiled in the prophecy Miryil would have found a way to take her head off, Esus’ tender feelings be damned.

She sent Erech to fetch them as soon as they had returned from the temple. She didn’t want to give them time to settle in and start up whatever it was they’d been doing when Ivhir had walked in on them, again. Lunch would be a good enough excuse to pump the wretched woman for information and to warn her about serving Malies.

Whether the Holy Father intended to allow it or not, Miryil had no intentions of tolerating that blasphemous little songbird’s service to the dark, or to the King of Fools. Erech’s solitary return to the common dining hall made her seethe.

“They will not be joining us.” From the twist of his thin lips and dry tone of his voice, Miryil knew Charyic had been the one to decline the invitation.

“I take it Esus let the blasphemous little songbird overrule him?” She didn’t bother to hide her displeasure.

“From the way Esus groaned into her neck when I interrupted them,” his lips twitched into a wry smile, “and the flush on Charyic’s cheeks when she so regally dismissed me, they were in perfect agreement. I’m certain neither of them would have been willing to interrupt their plans for something so trivial as lunch.”

Miryil’s eyes narrowed and she waved a hand to quiet the laughing Ivhir, “Regally dismissed?”

Erech mimicked the woman, “No. Thank you, Erech. You may go now.”

Ivhir grinned, “I’d say she spent too much time with Malav, but she did at least thank you for the invitation.”

Miryil snorted as Erech returned the grin. “I don’t like that she has Esus so wrapped around her finger.”

“You don’t like her, Miryil. And I don’t blame you, but we have to give them their time. Do you want to be the reason she chooses Malav instead of Esus?” The pointed look Erech gave her as he spoke made her want to slap him, but she knew he wasn’t wrong.

Speculatively, Ivhir spoke, “Perhaps one of the wounds that can yet be mended is your dislike of her Miryil?”

“My reasons for disliking her are valid. She robbed me, twice, and tried to murder me. She’s a thief and a blasphemer, and she’s serving Malies here in Isemalrocath. You don’t know if she’s serving the King of Fools as well!” She hadn’t realized how loud she had gotten until the silence commenced after her words.

“The Holy Father seemed almost fond of her. Even as devious as she can be, I doubt she can do anything without his knowledge. He always seems to know-” Ivhir paused in his attempt to comfort her and looked above her with a sudden half smile, “Holy Father, seeing you twice in one day is a pleasure.”

“I always seem to know?” Miryil couldn’t help but tense at the Holy Father’s coolly curious tone.

“When someone here behaves badly.” Ivhir finished with a smile.

He laughed. “I may no longer train you or be directly responsible for your comportment but I do like to remain aware of things.” Miryil bowed her head, it had been a surprise to many but not to her when the strictest of the Light Bringers had been elevated after the last Holy Father’s death. But the man had mellowed with time, he was much more lax now.

“Of course, Holy Father.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“Unfortunately, your comportment is unacceptable, Miryil. You are loudly disparaging a young woman who needs our understanding and has been given a great deal of favor not merely by Wyil, Ayil, Anyk, and Malies, but by Isemal himself. Her value has been misjudged by many, it will not be misjudged here.” The Holy Father was not speaking only to her, Miryil could tell that he was addressing all who could hear.

“Forgive me, Holy Father, but with the favor of so many gods, and with Malies’ and Wyil’s especially, how can she be trusted?” Miryil inquired pointedly.

“Esus said something about the priest of Malies at the temple in Gaelel.” Ivhir began thoughtfully, “He said Malav doesn’t obey as well as Charyic.” He paused again looking as though something was now coming clear, “Wyil told her to sit on Isemal’s altar. He gave her to Isemal.”

“Yes.” The Holy Father’s voice sounded pleased. “Wyil gave one of his best, Ayil and Anyk had both been using her with his blessing. Now Isemal is allowing Ayil to use the girl for her purposes. That she managed to impress Malies with her obedience puts her in a dangerous position. Malav knows how to charm the girl, and by extension so does Malies.” Miryil felt the Holy Father lay a hand on her shoulder. “She needs to be treated with kindness," he squeezed gently as if making a point, "and given as much time with Esus as can be granted. Her choice must be clear.”

“We’re assuming it’s her choice.” Miryil muttered. The Holy Father’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “‘A lover’s choice,’ was what it said. It could mean Isemal, or Esus, or even Anyk.”

“A lover will make a choice that will have Esus or Malav fall. If it were Esus, Isemal or Anyk the choice wouldn’t be in question.” Ivhir stared into the middle distance as he spoke, “Charyic was Malav’s wife. She’s carrying his child, Miryil. She looks at Esus like a woman under a spell, and I can’t help but think she might have looked at Malav the same way. She’s been pushed and pulled.” His eyes focused and he looked up at the Holy Father, “You said Ayil’s been using her, and Charyic herself said where Ayil falls on the matter is most important. Ayil’s the one with roots above and below, she’s set up Charyic’s choice hasn’t she?”

Miryil stared at the pale man. Pushed and pulled. She could almost feel sorry for her.

“Walk with me, Ivhir.” The Holy Father lifted his hand from Miryil’s shoulder and Ivhir followed him obediently.