Chapter 24

Katarina and Sasaki didn’t return to the Church immediately. Instead, they stopped at an inn and took a late dinner after rousing an irritable innkeeper from his bed.

"They say that drakes are proof of the existence of dragons, but I don’t think that’s true." Katarina opined around a mouthful of roasted ham. After washing down the bite with a swallow of ale, she continued, "There’s no such things as dragons."

Sasaki gave Katarina a wry look. "Yamato has a dragon." She replied sedately. "Or had." She added, at Katarina’s surprised expression. "Our records of history are pretty explicit."

"By all means, tell me." Katarina encouraged, gesturing with her tankard.

"Several thousand years ago," Sasaki began, and Katarina rolled her eyes. "Oh boy." She interjected.

"You want me to tell it or not?" Sasaki demanded, and Katarina raised her hands in surrender.

Sasaki eyed her a moment, sliced off a small bit of meat with her knife, and tweezed it into her mouth.

"In our earliest history, even before the Yamato, a dragon came to the islands. She was the size of a mountaintop, and was so large, four mounted men on horseback could have ridden into her mouth and down her throat." Sasaki described. "She was wise with ancient knowledge and power. Most stories have dragons breathing fire, but the dragon of Yamato breathed steam. Huge, roiling clouds of scalding-hot steam." She added.

"Back then, humans and elves lived separately. There was a human emperor that ruled all of the human lands in the Yamato islands, and he traded and treated fairly and equitably with the elves. Then the dragon showed up, captured him, and whisked him away. All of the priests began chanting prayers for his safe return, but they were for naught. His son took the throne, and revealed what he’d been told: the dragon had built for his father a large palace atop the greatest mountain of Yamato. The dragon had taken him for her consort, and had imprisoned him in that palace. Every hundred years, the dragon would take an emperor for her consort, sometimes from human lands, sometimes from the elven lands. She would take them and imprison them, and they would never be heard from again." She finished, and took another bite.

"The people began to take it as an omen: The race she picked from was destined, chosen. A dream of war began, one nation against the other. If the dragon took a human, the elves threatened invasion. If the dragon took an elf, the humans promised genocide. Each thought the other as duplicitous and false." Sasaki explained, as if reciting.

"Then one century passed with no abductions. And then another. Emboldened, the elves, onii, and humans mounted a great expedition and climbed the great mountain, and saw the dragon’s palace with their own eyes. More importantly, they found it completely deserted. At first, it became a holy site, visited only by the priests. Then the priests moved in, then the emperor." She paused. "I’m skipping a lot here." She added as an aside.

"Humans and elves set aside their differences and slowly returned to peace. Then a famine hit, and many from both sides were lost. The two became one. No one forgot the dragon, however." She pontificated, "So when the People of the Dragon showed up eighteen hundred years later, every person, be they human or elf or somewhere in between swore undying fealty to them. That’s when the true history of the Yamato began." Sasaki finished.

Katarina chewed thoughtfully. "I have questions." She offered, and Sasaki rolled her eyes.

"Why would a dragon that is "as big as a mountaintop" take a human- or an elf, for that matter- as a consort?" She asked, and Sasaki rolled her eyes. "Dragons can change their shape." She replied with ponderous contempt.

Katarina adopted a skeptical face. "She changed her shape just to take a human husband?" She replied in a disbelieving voice.

Sasaki shook her head. "Drop it." She replied in a small voice, and Katarina smiled a little in triumph.

"Okay. Next question: This is the second time you’ve mentioned onii." Sasaki clamped her lips shut at that. "I didn’t mention onii." She replied flatly. Katarina raised her eyebrows at this.

"Yes, you did. What are they?" She asked. Sasaki’s eyes slid away from hers.

"Nothing." She muttered unconvincingly.

"I don’t think so." Katarina replied.

"Next question." Sasaki insisted.

"What are onii?" Katarina repeated, and Sasaki sighed. "You don’t know when to let things go, do you?"

"I think it’s a question of ‘how’ and not ‘when’." Katarina replied. "I don’t know ‘how’ to let things go. It’s my job to ask questions and learn what I can." She finished.

Sasaki sighed. "Onii." She repeated, and sighed again. "There are a lot of stories about onii. Nobody knows where they came from... or if they’re even real. Some say they were the result of a demonhost taking a human... or elven wife. Or husband." She added reluctantly, and Katarina recoiled in horror and revulsion and Sasaki nodded. From time to time a demon would possess a human’s body. Their soul was irretrievably and irrecoverably lost. Such an abomination could not be allowed to live. The idea that someone so possessed had taken a wife, had birthed children was so abhorrent that it turned the stomach.

"There are other stories. Onii are the spawn of humans and dragons. Onii are the spawn of dragons and the Elder Gods. Onii are the spawn of the Elder Gods and humans. So on and so forth. Really, their origin is irrelevant; they’re fancies to frighten kids with." She pointed out sharply. "They epitomise everything that a proper citizen shouldn’t be: loud, violent, lascivious, fond of brawls and strong drink. Mothers tell their children to behave and obey properly or the onii will come in the night and steal them away and eat them." She smirked a little. "Unruly children are accused of having onii blood." She added with a grin and a thumb pointed to her chest.

"Do you?" Katarina asked curiously, and Sasaki rolled her eyes. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say." She replied caustically. "Did you miss the part where I said ‘fancies’?" She asked sarcastically. "They aren’t real."

"Fine." Katarina replied curtly, and gestured with her fork. "What are those ‘People of the Dragon’ you mentioned earlier?" She asked, and Sasaki nodded. "Ah! Yes. People from across the ocean with the blood of the dragons in their veins. Some scrolls say they arrived on the morning tides with glory, others say they were refugees from another land. It doesn’t matter, though: they arrived, proclaiming themselves dragon-blooded, and brought with them authority. They united the two nations into one, and the Yamato nation was born."

Katarina shook her head. "I can’t use that legend as proof of the existence of dragons." She decided, and forked some meat into her mouth. "There’s just too many inconsistencies."

Sasaki raised her hands noncommittally. "I’m not the best one to tell it, either. I’m just repeating what I remember." She replied comfortably.

"Well, I suppose we should get to the church." Sasaki encouraged. "I have a cell to warm up."

"What are you talking about?" Katarina protested. "You’re sleeping with me tonight."

Sasaki nodded. "Absolutely I’m sleeping with you tonight." She immediately agreed.

Katarina rolled her eyes. "I know that look. I’ve seen it before, but I think this might be the first time I’ve seen it in the eyes of a woman." She observed dryly.

"Does it bother you?" Sasaki asked, suddenly hesitant.

Katarina shook her head. "Not really. But Sasaki, I think we both have more pressing concerns than sex." She pressed gently.

Sasaki nodded reluctantly.

"The innkeeper’s given us a room, and the room has a bath, which I think we both need after that trip through those tunnels." Katarina remarked briskly. "If you’re up for it I’ll wash your hair and you can wash mine, and after that we’ll sleep. I don’t know about you, but I could use about a month’s worth of sleep." She complained, and Sasaki gave a tired smirk in response.

"That sounds like the best plan you’ve come up with all day, Witch Hunter." She agreed.

In the morning, Sasaki awoke to find Katarina already awake and dressed.

"Your trip through the crypts with me paid your fines." Katarina said by way of greeting. She sat at the small table on the other side of the room, foot cocked up on the table nonchalantly. "So you’re not heading back to the cells." She added, and then gestured at the haphazard pile of saddlebags, packs and satchels they’d dumped unceremoniously on the floor before climbing into the bath.

"That satchel I found in the spider’s lair- I think it rightly belongs to you." She offered simply. "I hit it a few times, but," and at this she shook her head, "But it was your kill. You cut it in two. You deserve it. And it should cover the cost of your trip back to Yamato."

Sasaki shook her head. "I don’t need it. I’ll figure something out." She replied, and Katarina laughed gaily at that.

"Oh no, I’m not being wholly altruistic here." She explained. "I took my share of it while you were snoring away."

"I don’t snore." Sasaki immediately retorted, and made a vexed noise in her mouth. "All right, if we’re splitting it, then that’s all right." She agreed reluctantly. She eyed Katarina speculatively.

"What happens next?" She asked, and Katarina shrugged. "I don’t know when the next ship to Yamato will be, but that’s your nevermind." She replied simply. "I expect that when I get back to the church I’ll be getting my next assignment and heading out, myself." She added simply.

Katarina shrugged into her duster and tugged her hat onto her head, and then favored Sasaki with a sweet smile. "I hope we meet again, Sasaki."

Sasaki nodded and lay back as Katarina picked up her saddlebags and left the room.

The walk back to the temple was quiet and uneventful. A storm front had blown in from the ocean and a constant drizzle of rain sifted down from the skies.

The traffic on the roads had all but disappeared except for the lone man or woman who dashed from building to building, using the overhanging eaves as shelter. The shops themselves vibrated with activity; even on rainy days production was ceaseless. On a sudden impulse Katarina headed towards the southern side of the town, away from the church, towards where the foundries and blacksmiths forged their wares, vainly missing her horse.

She stopped at a blacksmith’s shop and asked about her needs; the short man at first refused to do business with a "skirtless wench" until Katarina showed her Holy Symbol. Even then he was reluctant and switched from Anglish to Lyonese in an effort to avoid dealing with her. Katarina immediately repeated her requests in Lyonese, so he finally relented and agreed to deal with her.

The prices quoted for what she asked were reasonable; however she simply didn’t have the coin on her. She’d either need to invoke her need as a Witch Hunter, or retrieve her saved coin from the Church. She elected to return to the church, and gave the man a silver coin for his troubles.

Katarina was humming to herself as she walked into the stables at the church. Again she’d flaunted protocol; She should have summoned an acolyte to check on her horse. Katarina however had grown used to tending her horse, so instead of ordering around someone who would likely simply just be in the way, Katarina chose to brush her horse down herself.

She stopped at the stall her horse had been quartered in and took her time with currying and feeding the animal. While brushing down her horse, she suddenly picked up a tightly whispered conversation.

"You will do as you are told." Someone was saying sternly. From the tone of the voice, it seemed an older man’s voice.

"Have you seen the woman?" The other voice retorted truculently. "If you’d seen her, you’d understand how stupid that is."

Katarina raised an eyebrow. Were they talking about her? She grew silent and still and put her hand on her horses’ neck.

"Listen. You want that sponsorship, don’t you?" The older threatened. "Becoming a holy scribe is important work, but the courses take time and cost money. You’ve got plenty of one and very little of the other. Do as you’re told, and the rewards you receive under the Golden Lady will bloom like Her lillies. Simple." The older voice stated severely, and there was the tread of footsteps retreating away from where she stood.

Katarina nodded. Simple but effective advice: Do as you’re told and reap the rewards of your diligence. She finished currying her horse, stepped back outside and walked around to the front of the temple and went inside.

Inside, the air was filled with the voices of girls at choir. Katarina could remember her own time at choir; She enjoyed it for the most part. The pomp, the ceremony, the robes, the ten thousand candles, the smoky censers wafting aromatic incense from the balconies, the heavy, almost dense baroque designs across the pillars and pews and buttresses and ceilings. The mosaics, sculptures, bas reliefs and stained glass windows. All the girls in the choir were daughters of this Lord or that Lady and they ranged across the personality spectrum from vapid and insipid to energetic or serious, but for Katarina, there was only the choir; standing in the box, voice pitched in song.

The girls were singing a song Katarina was unfamiliar with, and she recalled the pastor from the day before reminding them to work on new songs. Had she been hasty in her judgement of the pastor from Higgenfal? She didn’t think that was likely.

She could feel the eyes of all the women in the choirs as she strolled past, saddlebags slung over her shoulder. Likely she was the point of gossip for every one of them. In Darnell, the choir was staffed by young noblewomen as part of their classical education from the church. Here, the choir was simply a catch-all for every girl that wanted to work in the church but couldn’t read or write or have any defining tradeskill. Eventually they were cycled into the laundries and kitchens and cleaning crews and stables, and there they would stay until they married or or died. Katarina strolled on past the choir, heading for the central spire. If any of those women learned reading and maths, they might be able to move into an administrative or clerking role, but teachers were few and far between, and weren’t likely to train someone to read for free.

She caught the acolyte from the other day, the one with the muttonchops, glancing at her with disdain. Well, there were any number of reasons he could find to give her that sort of look, she supposed.

A harried-looking woman with a hawkish sort of face intercepted her as she stepped into the administrative wing.

"Are you here to see the Bishop?" She asked, and Katarina nodded and displayed her holy symbol.

"I’m a Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady." She said by way of introduction. The woman nodded.

"The Bishop is cloistered with the Pastor; you’re welcome to wait." The woman replied after Katarina finished her introduction. "If you need anything, you should tell me now so I can get it for you; elsewise forget it, because frankly I’m too busy for anything later, what with the banquet and all." She announced briskly.

Katarina shook her head. "Banquet?" She asked, and the woman blinked. "There’s to be a banquet for you and the other Witch Hunter tonight." She replied. "I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be told." She finished, tucking errant locks of hair behind her ears. Despite the rather prominent nose the woman was rather pretty, Katarina mused, but shook her head.

"Certainly not. This is the first I’ve heard of it." She replied.

The woman nodded. "I suppose we might try and find a proper dress for you amongst the ladies’ things." She opined listlessly.

Katarina shook her head. She was much taller than most women, and taller than some men. Likely there wasn’t a dress within a hundred miles that she could fit into. "Or would you prefer a waistcoat and breeches?" The woman offered hesitantly, and Katarina shook her head.

"I won’t be attending any dinner." Katarina replied simply. "I’m going to collect my next assignment from whatever missives the Church has sent for me, and then I am leaving." She explained. "I’ve no time for such things."

The woman’s eyes grew big and round with shock and wonder at Katarina’s refusal of a banquet dinner.

"Go tend your work." Katarina added gently. "I can see to myself." She finished, and the woman nodded slowly and moved to walk away. She stopped, turned, and glanced back at Katarina, moved off a few more steps, and glanced back at her. This repeated a few more times until the mouselike woman was out of sight. Katarina took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out as a determined look settled on her face.

She walked up to the door to the Bishop’s office and again grimaced at the glass, but simply opened the door without knocking and strode in.