Chapter 27

Katarina was dizzy when she left the Diviner’s room. Her head was awhirl with the things she said, especially when it came to the revelations around Devon, Lennox, and Frederika.

Devon had been an instructor that she’d been under since she had arrived at the church at the age of six. He had been a confidant, an ally, a friend. However, shortly after she had graduated he had revealed himself as a manipulator of the mind, with powers insidious and foul. It turned out that he was using his fel powers to warp the minds of those around him, and it had only been through the will of the Golden Lady that Katarina had finally managed to turn the tables. She’d trusted him, and he’d betrayed her.

Lennox had been a powerfully built lad, but was a boy of few words. He came from the nation of Blackwater, and his accent was thick, so he usually spoke only when spoken to, and only used the barest number of words. He’d only spoken to her a handful of times. When she was younger, she’d taken his red-faced and sweaty stammering as his efforts to communicate without being misunderstood, but perhaps it was something else entirely. Katarina paused in the stairwell. ‘I should have spoken to him more.’ She thought to herself. They’d barely interacted at all, but he’d been kind.

Frederika had been the only girl besides herself in a dormitory filled with boys, and Katarina had saved her from a group of them. Frederika had attached herself to Katarina shortly after.

Thinking such things, she descended the steps by rote, absorbed in her thoughts. She stepped out into the main hall that circumnavigated the base of the central spire and nearly ran into someone. She caught a curious glimpse of a cavalier’s hat, with a ridiculous plume of a feather tucked into the side, but because of the difference in height she couldn’t see the face beneath it.

Her training kicked in and she stepped to the side to avoid the collision, but a hand shot out and grabbed her arm anyway and whirled her around like a top. Her hand hit her gunbutt and she drew quickly, pushing the ponderous barrels underneath the person’s armpit.

They released her quickly, and stepped away, hands raised.

Katarina eyed the man that lifted the brim of that ridiculous hat carefully. He wasn’t as tall as she was, but he had thick black hair in glossy ringlets, compelling brown eyes, wide moustache and narrow pointed beard.

He gave her a saucy smile, a brilliant flash of teeth, touched his hat again, and let out a rich chuckle. "It seems as though our training is widely different." He began in an accented voice. "Me, I pull you to dance so that you do not slip and fall; you, you pull your gun."

He tucked his hand into his waistcoat and gave her the suggestion of a bow. Katarina holstered her gun and smirked at him. He wore a long narrow black waistcoat, heavily and richly embroidered in silver thread, with a brilliant red sash across from right shoulder to left hip. Loose cloth breeches bloused over long boots with the tops turned down, and draped over his shoulders like a mantle was a deep crimson greatcoat, the apotheosis of deep, brilliant, ruby red. The greatcoat itself was covered in dense gold embroidery.

"I am-" he began, but Katarina cut him off.

"Alejandro don Diego of Toledo, yes?" She finished for him, and he smiled at her again.

"-not surprised that my reputation has already reached the ears of such a lovely woman as yourself." He finished instead, a warm smile on his face. He spread his hands. "Am I to be introduced?" He asked, and Katarina nodded.

"I am Katarina, Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady." She replied smoothly, and Alejandro swept off his hat.

"A pleasure, Lady Katarina." He replied. "I was on my way to seek out the gunpriest." She raised her eyebrows at this. "So was I." She gestured for him to go ahead at the same time he did.

"No delicate flower, you." He observed with a brilliant smile, white teeth stark against his olive skin. "Ladies in the Toledan court, they like to blush and fan themselves and pretend to faint, but you... I think you are a leopard." he observed with a smile. "I have a couple of questions for you as we walk, if you don’t mind."

She shrugged. "Fire away."

He nodded as they moved through the hall towards the gunpriest’s area.

"Was there much trouble when you started wearing pantalones?" He asked, and gestured at the lower half of her body.

She snorted. "There always is. There’s only been a few woman Witch Hunters in Anglish history, and wearing trousers usually rates up there near heresy." She remarked. "The key is to assert your authority from the first moment." She advised sourly. He laughed in response.

"Good answer." He acknowledged. "My second question is unrelated to the first. There is a great debate in our councils in Toledo, and I would ask your opinion as a fellow Witch Hunter."

Katarina raised an eyebrow at this. "...all right." She agreed reluctantly.

"A context, first." He allowed. "Toledo is considering allowing mages into the ranks of the Witch Hunters. The pretext is ‘allow the organization of mages to hold each other personally accountable for their faults’. The idea is to empower sanctioned mages to hunt down their own." He clamped his lips shut for a moment. "The Progresivo, the progressives in our councils say that this is the natural progression of things. The Arbitristas, our forecasters however, say that this will lead to our downfall. Allowing mages a position of authority will undermine the Great Church."

Katarina took a breath. "You want me to offer an opinion?" She asked incredulously. "I don’t think I’m the best person to ask."

He shook his head. "I am not asking as a Toledan." He insisted. "As a Witch Hunter. What do you think? Should a Mage be allowed to be a Witch Hunter?"

A storm of opinions surged through Katarina as she considered the question. The idea offended her to her core, as if someone had suggested she piss into a christening font. She struggled with her anger as she tried to find some way of expressing it.

"I find the idea of a Mage as a Witch Hunter to be offensive." She murmured tightly. She checked herself as she was about to spit in disgust.

He nodded. "I feel the same." He replied quietly. "I agree that mages should police their own, but a mage can no more be a Witch Hunter than a horse can be an apple-cart." he added. "I fear that Toledo may be more desperate than the Anglish Empire, if the discussion has not come up in your circles of authority."

Katarina shook her head and spread her hands with a dry laugh. "Ah, I see. You seem to have the idea that I play at court." She observed.

He frowned a little. "You do not? Lady Katarina, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage." He let out a polite chuckle.

Katarina shook her head again. "I am a Witch Hunter, Alejandro. I receive my assignments and I hunt the witch."

"Of course." He agreed. "But surely you do not actually go into the wilds yourself, my Lady?" He enquired, concerned. "Else what is a retinue for?"

Katarina pursed her lips. "It seems we have differing methodologies in our pursuits." She hazarded carefully. Alejandro nodded. "It would appear so."

"Then perhaps we should start there. How is it you hunt your witches?" She asked, and stopped against the gunpriests’ door, folding her arms and leaning against it.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

"I will tell you of my last hunt." he decided. "The Dread Witch Magdalena Ruiz de Salazar." He decided. "I received my Imperial Summons at Court to dispatch this harridan, I assembled my retinue, where we straightaway dispatched for Salazar."

Katarina frowned a little. "Salazar is a location?" She asked, and he nodded. "Of course, of course. It is a fine port city. Ah, you refer to her name?" he asked, catching her confusion. She nodded. "Our honorable names are personal names, followed by house names, followed by the city or location we are from." he clarified. Katarina nodded.

"My retinue consists of an interrogator, a penitent," He paused. "The Anglish tongue does not seem to have an appropriate word..." he trailed off. "el hierofante." He stated, and she gave him a puzzled look. He grimaced. "Like Araya, I suppose. But suited for travel and trained to channel the Great Teacher’s mysteries into combat." He described lamely, incapable of finding the correct words.

"A warpriest?" She hazarded, and he shook his head. "Not like our warpriests, though I also have one in my retinue." he offered with a smile. "And a trio of knight-errants who have won their spurs and bells." he finished.

"My retinue tracked the Witch to her lair, and dispensed the Teacher’s Wisdom to her. We reconvened, and returned to the capital." He described.

"So... you didn’t actually..." She trailed off. He shrugged. "How is it you search?" He asked, and Katarina snorted. "Nothing so grand or noble as what you describe, Alejandro." She replied. "My last assignment was for a girl that disappeared under mysterious circumstances- witchery was suspected, you mind." he nodded and gestured for her to continue.

"I investigated, and discovered the girl herself was a simple farmer’s girl that had her magical awakening in Church. She had discovered her songs had the power to ensorcel the local people. She fled into the forests. I tracked her for months in the wilds. Through the winter, in fact, and I found her trying to use her songs to dry wood for a fire." She described with a smirk. "I dispatched her with a boot to the head. Normally I give the Lady’s Mercy to Witches because they’re too much of a hassle to guard." She advised. He thumbed his chin thoughtfully and nodded. "I had in fact, in my pursuit of her, found and dispatched three Witches along the way." She added nonchalantly, and his eyes widened in awe at this casual pronouncement. "But I drugged her, and brought her with me; my intent was to find a church capable of sending her to a town or a city where she could be Sanctioned and educated so that she might use her gifts for the Golden Lady." She finished with a shrug. "The local church was not up to the task and she was captured by another witch in the area, one that trucked with all sorts of abomination. I brought the Lady’s Mercy to them both." She finished. "I came here to turn in my proofs and collect my next assignment." She spread her hands. "There is a significant difference in our methodologies, Alejandro." She observed, and he nodded dumbly.

"How long was that assignment?’ he inquired. She nodded at the question. "Eight months."

He let out a slow breath. "In eight months you have dispatched the same number of Witches I have... within the past five years." he admitted reluctantly, fingering his sash unconsciously.

Katarina nodded. "I somewhat like the idea of a retinue." She allowed. "But there are only a few things in this world that I trust: I trust the Golden lady, I trust my sword, and I trust my gun." She shook her head. "I doubt I could have faith that a retinue would be able to ..." She trailed off, "Do the job correctly."

He shook his head and raised his hand forebearingly. "A Witch Hunter is an investment, no?" he asked. "In Toledo, our value is considerable. Our training, our skills, our Gifts from the Teacher, even the sacred iron we carry in Her name" he remarked, and patted the bundle he carried, "all of these take time and money to cultivate and develop." he shook his head. "An investment of that nature should not be squandered lightly." He said with finality. He eyed her speculatively, and Katarina could sense the shift in attitude. "I understand this is an insensitive question, Lady Katarina, but what accolades have you earned?"

Katarina let out a sigh. "I don’t care about such things." She replied with a twist to her mouth. "But they call me Justicar, because I have killed Witches for the Golden Lady for ten years now. I hold the titles of Lady of the Church, Interrogator of the Inquisition, Cleric, and Paladin. I have won my Spurs, Bells, Symbol and Sash." She tapped one of the necklaces around her neck, a red stone set in a golden disc. "I am Last of the Rubinritter, the Knights of the Ruby." her mouth twisted and her heart lurched at the memory of taking that particular accolade. "I am from the House of Pavlenko, Merchant Lords of Begierde." She finished, struggling to keep the scathing from her voice. For Alejandro these sorts of things were important, but to her they were irrelevancies. "They don’t make my hunts easier, faster, or smoother. They don’t make my gun shoot better, or my prayers more effective." She added. "All power and authority flows from the Goddess of the Dawn." She finished.

Alejandro was silent for a long time, and when he finally spoke, he let out a little hurt chuckle and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"I have never been so awed of a woman before in all of my life." he breathed, and then corrected himself. "Of anyone." he added. "You have earned many accolades..." he trailed off, "And yet to you they are but ... useless fripperies in your pursuit of duty." He shook his head. "You are an inspiration, My Lady. An inspiration." he let out another chuckle and wiped his eyes. "Here I thought myself your equal, or even perhaps your superior, what with your lack of common retinue but..." He spread his hands. "I admit complete defeat. My Lady, I have nothing with which to compare." He finished simply.

Katarina pointed at the door to the gunpriest’s room and he nodded and wiped his eyes again.

The gunpriest’s room was well and cleanly lit and was redolent with the bitter tang of gunpowder. There were areas about the room that were easily discernable to the Witch Hunters- a crucible for the forging of balls and bullets, a station with measures of mineral powders and charts with ratios, and the central area, where the Gunpriest stood.

Katarina unholstered her gun and set it on the table in front of him. The man recoiled and eyed Katarina’s gun reluctantly. "What..." he began, lips peeling back in reluctance. "What is this?" He touched it lightly with his finger as if it were covered in filth.

"The Eagle’s Talon." Katarina replied dryly. "A three-barrel revolving pistol. Carried by Lord Christensen, the Wolf of Alastor before his death. Passed to me, ten years ago. Now here." She summarised succinctly. The wooden grip of the gun was indeed fashioned into the curving head of an eagle, and the wood itself had been covered and wrapped in gold filigree and holy symbols. The barrels themselves had been etched with scriptures and chased in gold as well.

"It’s got grit to it, regardless of how many times I complete the Rites of Cleaning." She complained. "It’s beyond my skill to maintain." She caught Alejandro mouthing ‘Rites of Cleaning’ and wondered.

The gunpriest sighed. "I wouldn’t even know how to take it apart." He confessed, and held up his hands pleadingly. "I’m just an acolyte! I..." he trailed off, waving his hands helplessly.

"Stop thinking about what you can’t do, and start thinking about what you can do." Katarina castigated him coldly. "This gun is the one thing that stands between you and rogue witches." She added angrily. "So stop snivelling and tell me what you can do."

He nodded. "I can... I can etch on some seals for warding away dirt and water. That’s a common enough problem with any firearm. Then you should go through the Rites of Cleaning again...." He turned away, and added in a lower voice, "It may dislodge what’s in there, then."

Katarina sighed, and pulled out her cleaning kit. "You’re useless." She broke down her gun, Alejandro peering over her shoulder as she did. "Place your seals where you will, but temporary." She advised. "I cannot trust your competence; ergo I won’t allow you the chance to fuck up my gun permanently." She warned, and the gunpriest flinched.

"Fine." He grumbled, defeated.

Katarina glanced at Alejandro with a smile. "And you, Alejandro?" She asked, and remembering Araya’s advice, touched Alejandro’s arm. "What sort of iron do you bring this bastion of confidence and skill?" She asked, and he let out a nervous laugh. "Nothing so impressive as yours, I fear." he remarked self-deprecatingly, and opened the small case he carried with him.

On a bed of velvet lay a gun the like of which Katarina had never seen before. It had a curving walnut grip, two triggers, and an odd lever on the side next to the barrels.

He broke open the stock, revealing three barrels. "Two rifle barrels, and a smoothbore for shot." he explained wanly. She gestured at the gun, and Alejandro passed it over. It was much heavier than she’d expected. It was longer than her own, but not nearly as long as the long guns she’d trained on.

"Paper cartridges?" She asked, and he shrugged. "Eh." was all he replied. "May I see your rounds?" he asked her curiously, and she nodded and handed a couple over.

"Ball." he remarked with a curious amount of distaste, and then glancing at her, clamped his mouth shut. "No doubt you have mastered this weapon to its limits." he added politely, and handed her one of his.

"It uses a cartridge that is jacketed." he showed her the metal cylinder that shrouded the bullet, revealing a cartridge not unlike her own, albeit slimmer and longer. "A shaped slug." he pointed out, gesturing to the conical head. "Much more precise."

Katarina nodded to show she understood.

"This can travel further, and more precisely than your rounds." He advised. "The tradeoff is that the rounds are much more complicated to make. Also, the round can fragment in the target worse than your ball rounds, which means I have to be ready to seek out a gunsmith to replenish my munitions." he admitted. "I’m afraid i must confess to some ignorance, Lady Katarina." He queried. "Surely the Anglish gunsmiths have learned to use shaped ammunition."

Katarina’s eyebrow twitched as she considered the inquiry. "Probably." She replied. "I inherited this gun from my former Master and I’ve carried it in his honor ever since." She finished simply. "Likely there have been a great many advances in firearms Alejandro, but I find I cannot easily let this go."

His face relaxed into a warm smile. "The man who honors his teacher honors himself." He replied. "Who was your Master?" He asked curiously.

"I was apprenticed to Lord Donald Christensen, known to some as the Wolf of Alastor." She replied. "Do you know of him?" She asked, and Alejandro choked. "By reputation, Lady Katarina. He is perhaps the most renowned, most well-known Witch Hunter in recorded history."

She smiled a little at that. "I’m glad he’s remembered." She replied shortly, but Alejandro pressed on.

"Tell me, did he ever tell you if he slew Heartsbane?" He asked eagerly, at complete odds to his composed character from before.

"I slew Archibald Heartsbane." She corrected, her voice thick. "Donald- Lord..." She broke off and closed her eyes. "My master held Archibald in place at the cost of his life. I was the one to deliver the killing blow." She finished in a low voice. She opened her eyes after a moment and glanced at the Gunpriest.

"We’re wasting his time, Alejandro. You should tell him what you need so he can get started." She encouraged.

"Yes, well." He started, and cleared his throat. "My apologies for reminding you of obviously painful memories." He said as an aside to her, and faced the Gunpriest.

"I need this cleaned and polished." He remarked simply. Katarina’s face went blank. One of the first things that was drilled into Anglish Witch Hunters from the very beginning was how to quickly break down and clean their own firearms. Katarina compressed her lips together in an effort to be diplomatic.

The Gunpriest glanced at her somewhat fearfully. "My Lady, the problem is not mechanical." He gestured at the stock. "There are already seals against dirt and water, and these are much better than I can do." He advised. "I confess that I don’t know all of the Litanies of the Gun, but the problem is not mechanical." He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "I’ve heard from older, more experienced acolytes that a gun may behave this way if there is..." he glanced at Alejandro and shook his head, and shifted his posture to block the Toledan’s view and lowered his voice, "a spiritual ... disjunction between the gun and its owner." He finished quietly. "Rites of Cleaning aren’t enough, my Lady." he gestured. "There are rooms, private rooms, set aside for meditation and prayer. It might help." He added discreetly, and then dipped his head. "Alternatively, you could talk to our chaplain."

Katarina nodded, stunned. There’d never been a point in her consideration that the problem was something other than mechanical. Was the gun losing its enchantment? Witch Hunters also shared a unique bond with their gun in addition to any weapon enchants; could there be a problem with the bond? She’d never heard the like before.

He gestured to a curtained-off area. "If you go through there, and follow the tunnel behind; you’ll reach the side-chapel where our Chaplain makes his office." He gave her a sympathetic pat and Katarina shoved her gun back into her holster irritably and disappeared behind the curtain.