Before dawn

Charyic had been thinking about going back to the temple ever since her talk with Isemal. She had visited Ayil twice, but not left anything for him, and more naggingly for Anyk. She couldn’t condone Anyk’s infidelity, but it bothered her that she could now understand why Anyk would like Isemal. Charyic somehow felt she owed her an apology.

She sighed and tried to get comfortable among her pillows. It was the middle of the night. If she had her tools she could go out to look for offerings and take them to the temple, they could be paid for in the morning. She didn’t really want throngs of people around her when she apologized. Charyic considered finding out if Nyvor was really a thief by asking to borrow his tools.

Ivhir was sound asleep, he’d put the basin back in front of the door and the scaffolding had been removed before the sun had gone down. There was no unnoticeable way out tonight even if she could borrow what she needed or have Nyvor steal a few things for her.

She got up quietly anyway and pulled on the clothes she’d laid out for the morning.

“Where are you going, Charyic?” Ivhir mumbled.

“Out. I want to find some things to take to the temple and see if I can get in before dawn.”

The cot creaked as Ivhir got up cursing. “You can’t wait until daylight?”

Laughing helplessly, she shook her head, “I tried to. I just can’t sleep. I need to go.”

“Esus must have the patience of a stone.” Ivhir muttered as he was pulling on his armor.

At the mention of Esus, Charyic gritted her teeth. He was going to come back, she put her faith in grandfather for that. And when he did he would be lucky if she didn’t smack his crooked smile straight. She balled up her fists making herself be angry instead of afraid.

Before going anywhere Ivhir insisted they had to wake the steward to have funds arranged, and he helpfully offered to send someone to open the gate when they arrived. Though he did caution that they may not receive a warm welcome from shop owners if they had to rouse them from their beds.

Strolling through the quiet streets, Charyic felt almost at home somehow. “I like it here.” She murmured to Ivhir, “At night, anyway. When it’s asleep the city feels so, so comfortable.”

He looked at her as if she were mad. “And in the day?”

She shrugged, “I’m only fond of crowds when I’m working. In the crush of people, it’s easy to steal things.”

“And that’s working?” He looked at her with a scowl.

She gave him a smile, “Try it sometime, it’s not easy.”

“It's cruel to take something someone else worked for. You have no right to it. Earn your own coins.”

She snorted. “Prostitution never appealed to me and there weren't many other options for me to choose from.”

“You have quick fingers, Charyic, you could sew.”

“How many seamstresses have you employed from the slums of a place like Belasenden?” She asked dryly.

“You were…” he sighed. “No wonder you weren't fond of us.”

They walked silently until she stopped to peer into the darkened window of a jeweler.

“Can you make a little light?” She heard him murmur something and inside the shop, a small ball of light began to grow. “Impressive.”

He laughed and it flickered.

A man came timidly from the back with a raised blade. Charyic smiled and waved at him. He looked baffled as he opened the door. “Light Bringers?”

“I am,” Ivhir answered quickly. “She wishes to-”

“You’re the one who brought the Holy Father into the markets looking for a gift for Ayil.” He sounded almost awed.

“I am. I’m looking for something for Anyk, and something for Isemal if I can find it.”

The man stared. “At night?”

“Yes.” She smiled brightly. “Is that a problem?”

He blinked and stepped back holding the door open, “No! Please!” He scurried to the back of the shop to find lamps as they began to look around.

The jeweler brought out two and inquired, “May I ask what you’re looking for?”

With a chagrined sigh, Charyic twisted her lips into a smile and said, “Something that says I am very, very sorry. And something that says I am fonder of you than I should be.”

Ivhir coughed.

The jeweler nodded, “I think I just finished one of your pieces.” He went to the back again and came out with a large tray. The elaborate gold necklace inside caught the lamplight and glowed as if it were captured sunlight. The large heart in the center of the strings was artfully inlaid with slivers of clear gems that caught the light and the delicate gold strings were made to fan out across a woman’s chest, gathered here and there by what looked like small suns.

“That is Anyk’s, yes.” Charyic breathed. It was hard to tear her eyes away from it. “Ivhir?”

“Yes?” The Light Bringer sounded awed.

“You may have to go back for more money. I know I promised not to empty the Holy Father’s treasury, but ...”

The jeweler laughed. “I will keep my prices reasonable, my lady.”

Charyic grinned at him as she tucked the ends of her short hair behind her ears, “For work like that, reasonable could still empty the treasury.”

The man seemed to swell with pride. He showed her several other impressive pieces before she saw Isemal’s gift. It was rather plain in comparison. A carved and inlaid jewelry box. Dancing figures and the walls of the city of Isemalrocath graced the lid. But it was the dancing jester in the middle of it all that made it perfect. The jeweler asked six times if she were certain.

Both of the items were wrapped as she watched and given to Ivhir to carry. She relished the quiet walk to the temple, it seemed as if they were the only ones awake just yet. When she saw the temple gates, and the half-dozing people huddled around them, this time there was someone waiting to open them. Charyic knew who the hooded figure was before they reached him.

“I didn’t empty your treasury, but I couldn’t pay the entire bill with what I was given.” She teased him. “I promised him something extra for letting us take these without full payment.”

There was a murmur from those waiting outside the gate as he opened it for them.

The Holy Father shook his head and pulled back the hood slightly. “Come, before more people stir.”

She felt a nervous ball in her stomach walking in and paused to take a deep breath before stepping into the wing of the temple that housed Anyk’s altar.

“Were you so nervous visiting Ayil?” The Holy Father asked quietly.

“No. I don’t think I’ve ever had to apologize to Ayil for anything.” She took another deep breath and rubbed her belly.

He laughed quietly.

The golden statue above the altar looked like a beautiful woman standing between two massive harps, and the ceilings and walls above and behind her were painted with images of birds and musicians playing, women dancing. Charyic looked at it all for a moment before she carefully unwrapped the tray the jeweler had sent with them and lifted the necklace out. She carried it carefully to the altar to lay it flat as it had been before she picked it up.

“Beautiful.” A woman’s voice came from beside the altar and she gestured to the Holy Father who lit the room brilliantly, making Charyic blink.

Charyic looked up at her sheepishly. “You’re going to make me say it aren’t you.”

The woman sighed and shook her head. “I should make you sing it.”

“I would deserve it.” She shrugged, “Mostly.”

The woman approached and touched the necklace on the altar. “Was I so terrible?”

“The first time I-I heard about you was at grandfather’s feet. And he…” She looked at her hands and tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “The pain on his face.” She shook her head and took a breath, “I love him. I grew up with him.” Charyic looked up at her. “I hated you for that. For that pain. But I don’t-don’t think you deserved it. I’m sorry.”

“I love him too.” Anyk sighed. “I never meant to hurt him. But Isemal ...”

“Is nice.” Charyic’s words came out with something bordering on angry exasperation. “I didn’t want to like him.” She crossed her arms.

Anyk began to laugh. “Yes. He does that.” She touched Charyic’s short hair, “Show me what you brought him?”

Ivhir unwrapped the box as she walked to him to take it. As she held it for Anyk to inspect the Holy Father approached with a frown.

“I would see.”

“It will be left on your altar.” Anyk shooed him.

Grinning impishly Charyic shrugged and said, “If you liked this one better you could always switch.”

For that Anyk tapped her on the nose less than gently. “You’ve spent too much time with Ayil.” She touched the box fondly. “It is lovely,” turning her smile back on Charyic, Anyk said quietly, “but he does get impatient.”

“I’ll take it now.” Charyic returned her smile.

She turned to carry the box back the way she had come and the Holy Father was at her elbow immediately.

“He’s eager to see his gift.” The Holy Father pressed a hand to her back. “Before the throngs enter, the sun is rising.”

Charyic nodded and tried to match the Holy Father’s pace.

At the massive altar, the sun wrought in gold and the painted dome of the sky above it, the figure of a beautiful golden youth stood as if surveying his kingdom with a self-satisfied smile. She brought the box forward and set it gently at the statue's feet.

The Holy Father looked at it critically. “This?”

“Is perfect.” Charyic smiled happily looking at it. “Look!” She touched the lid lovingly.

“I see it. Thank you.” He sounded amused.

She smiled up into Isemal’s glowing eyes and opened the box. The strains of the song she had sung to Esus sprang from nothing and his smile spread across his face.

“It is perfect.” He brushed her cheek.

Beaming, Charyic watched the glow fade and the Holy Father smiled at her. He led her back down toward the people who were entering the temple and looking at them curiously. As she was escorted back, she thought she saw Nyvor lingering at the edge of the crowd as they exited the gates.