Questions

“How is she?”

Ivhir took a moment to answer the Holy Father’s question. “Sleeping.”

“Still? It’s past midday.” The Holy Father did not look pleased.

“Alok says it’s best if she’s kept asleep. When she’s awake she makes herself sick with worry and the vomiting and crying sends her into contractions.” Ivhir watched as he rubbed his face.

“Sending Esus was necessary, but he should have been back by now.” The Holy Father looked regretful. “Perhaps I should speak with her.”

Wincing, Ivhir shook his head, “She has a temper. Even if I disarm her in her sleep I would think twice about it.”

The Holy Father frowned and his mirrored gaze felt very uncomfortable. “How will you be able to do what must be done if you quail before such a little thing like Charyic?”

“I would rather face Malav than Esus’ little bird without him to call her off. She may be small but she has a giant’s worth of viciousness inside her.” Ivhir couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish, but the Holy Father had never seen what the girl was capable of. “It would be different if she were an enemy, but she can’t be harmed and she doesn’t temper her fury with that knowledge.”

“Fury might be better than vomiting and crying. Consult with Alok, he’ll know best.” With a gesture the Holy Father dismissed him, but Ivhir didn’t go.

“Holy Father?” Charyic was so certain, Ivhir had to ask. “If something has happened to Esus, what will happen?”

The Holy Father bowed his head. “Nothing has happened to Esus. He is simply delayed.” Ivhir started to inquire again and was cut off abruptly. “Even if Malav captured him, he would not be killed immediately. The terms were clear. Malav would still try to take Isemalrocath and Charyic, he must force her to choose him in front of the gods and Esus.”

“If Malav can raise the dead, did the terms say he had to be alive?” Ivhir asked quietly. Receiving no answer he bowed and stepped out of the chamber returning to Charyic and her caretakers.

Opening the door and slipping in as quietly as he could, Ivhir observed the room’s occupants. Alok drowsed on the cot Ivhir had brought to sleep on and Ametel had curled up with Charyic in the bed. The two women could almost be mistaken for sisters when they were sleeping.

The muffled sound of acolytes complaining as they raised a scaffold to clean the stonework was the only thing to break the heavy quiet in the room. Ivhir moved to the window and opened it. The smell was not pleasant but the air outside was less oppressive than the air in the bedroom.  He leaned over the windowsill and looked down at the acolytes with a frown and pressed a finger to his lips. One looked as if she wished to protest, but she opted to scowl and sulk silently instead.

“You should wait until they’ve finished.” Alok spoke quietly.

“The air in here is unbearable.” Ivhir answered with a shake of his head.

“No word?”

“No. The Holy Father wants to know if he should come speak to her. I cautioned him that she might be furious.” Ivhir leaned against the windowsill. “He seemed to think that would be better than this, but told me to ask you.”

“It would be a welcome change, but I don’t think she has it in her. She won’t have room for anger until she knows if Esus is safe or not.” Alok frowned and came around the bed to check on Charyic, touching her face with the back of his hand. “The sooner the better. I can’t keep her asleep for days on end.”