Chapter 44

Katarina carefully disentangled herself from the maid and rolled out of bed into the morning light. She stood up on her toes, stretching, and then bent down and placed her hands flat on the floor, feeling her spine crack and pop comfortably. She went through a few more stretches, and picked up her pants from the floor.

"Oh boy, am I in trouble." The girl mumbled from the bed, rubbing her face. She was a lot shorter than Katarina, willowy and slim with brown hair and startling blue eyes.

"Of course you are." Katarina replied comfortably, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I woke up before you did." She added loftily. "A proper maid wakes her Mistress, not the other way 'round." She stated with an imperious look.

She added a crafty smile. "Also, my clothes are a mess. They're scattered everywhere. Isn't it your responsibility to see to them? Such irresponsibility is utterly deplorable." Katarina waved her hand impatiently.

To her surprise the girl bowed humbly beneath Katarina's teasing. "My deepest apologies for neglecting my responsibilities so shamelessly Mistress." She apologized sincerely.

Katarina froze a moment, and then shrugged and flapped her hand dismissively. "It's nothing, I was teasing. Let it go." She replied simply and pulled her pants up around her hips.

For the first time in a very long time she'd have to start thinking like a noblewoman, she supposed. She paused in affixing her belt.

"Do the Pavlenkos have a tailor on retainer?" She asked the maid, who was picking up the clothes quickly. The girl gave her a baffled look, but nodded. "Of course, Mistress. Six of them."

"Mmm." Katarina nodded, and shrugged into her shirt. "Doubt they'd make me some decent shirts." She muttered. "Likely they want to get me into a dress just as quick as they can." She added with a twist of her mouth, and slipped into her brigandine vest. Katarina eyed her maid severely.

"You need to get some clothes on girl, or I'm going to start taking mine off." She warned with a smile, and the girl gave her a smile in return.

Katarina moved to the cabinet where she'd stored her meager possessions, and rooted in her saddlebags until she found her measuring tape, and waited patiently for her maid to dress. It wouldn't do for her to wander about without a maid, she decided.

"Schedule me an appointment with the tailors, would you?" Katarina asked, and the girl bobbed in acquiescence. What was her name? Katarina wondered. Lily? Something like that, anyway. She paused and faced her maid. That wouldn't do. She was a Witch Hunter, it was her responsibility to remember things.

"Liliana." She decided, and the girl looked to her. "Yes, Mistress?" The girl responded immediately. Katarina nodded. "It's a beautiful name." She replied, and kissed the girl, who responded, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's neck and pushing up on her tiptoes to meet her embrace.

Katarina released the girl, who wobbled on her feet. "Let's go find my little brother." Katarina decided, and eyed the cloak her father had thrust on her. Wearing a cloak on the estates would be bizarre, certainly. Or maybe it was expected? She wasn't sure. She marched out of the bedroom, her maid scrambling to keep up with her.

"Um?" The maid scrambled to keep pace with the Witch Hunter.

Katarina glanced at the smaller woman- barely a woman, Katarina decided. The girl couldn't be more than eighteen.

"Perhaps a bath?" the maid asked delicately. That brought the Witch Hunter up short.

Attending what amounted to be a social function with the family and other nobility in her travelling clothes had sparked any number of rumors. Katarina's hair was no doubt a tangled mess kept at bay by bundling it in a wrist-thick braid that hung indifferently to her waist.

Katarina sighed and tossed her head irritably. "Fine. Draw me a bath." She agreed. At the very least, she thought she had a clean shirt stuffed down in the bottom of her pack, if not her saddlebags.

Freshly tubbed, Katarina luxuriated in a chaise lounge as the maid worked a brush through her hair. Katarina had found a moderately clean shirt and mentally reviewed the things she'd need to do.

She'd need to get a shirt, or perhaps several. Perhaps some robust cotton trousers. Her leather pants had a tendency to pinch in the wrong places. No doubt her mother would be on point to get her into a dress as soon as reasonably possible. Katarina made a face at that.

There was a perfunctory knock at the door to her apartments, followed immediately by her mother Bianka, her own maid trailing behind in the woman's wake.

"Ah, Mother." Katarina acknowledged with a smile. "I was about to have breakfast." She offered, and Bianka tapped her thumb against her chin in brief thought, and then turned to her own maid.

"Off to the kitchens. Tell Hanz two breakfasts, delivered here." She instructed. The maid bobbed in a quick curtsy, and exited quickly, not quite running.

"Sit, dear." Bianka urged, gesturing to the small table. "And do get dressed. I'm sure Hanz will be sending up some food soon."

"What can I do for you, Mother?" Katarina began.

"What, I need a reason to see my daughter?" She barked a dry humorous laugh. "It's been twenty years, Kat. I think I deserve to be a little selfish."

Katarina snorted. "A little." agreed.

"Good, it's settled, then." Bianka nodded. "Come with me."

"Breakfast?" Katarina returned with a confused look.

"It'll be here when we get back." Bianka assured her. "Come along, now."

Katarina tugged on her pants, again thinking of robust cotton trousers that she would perhaps wear her chaps over to protect her legs while riding. She casually examined the braid Liliana had worked in her hair, flicked the cable of hair over her shoulder, and negotiated the hooks for her brigandine vest quickly.

Bianka eyed her as she stepped out into the hall.

"You'd look better in a dress, dear." She observed, and Katarina growled. Bianka chuckled at that.

"We're just going to have a short visit to the Hall of Ancestry." She advised, indicating for the Witch Hunter to fall in beside her. "I regret not having been able to teach you of your family before you left, so now that I have you here, I'm going to drill it into you." She let out a humorless chuckle.

"Saints save and preserve me." Katarina replied, and Bianka laughed. "You needn't look at it as torturous, dear. It's your family, after all." She paused. "Everyone should know where they come from."

Katarina let out a breath through her nostrils.

"All right. Start at the beginning, I guess." She offered, and Bianka gave her a small smile.

"All right." Bianka offered. "Ours is an important family. We hold the original royal blood of Ardeal, going back before we joined the Empire." She began. "Back then, our matriarch was 'Doamna' Mihaela lon Pavlenko."

"Doamna?" Katarina asked, unfamiliar with the ancient word.

"'Grand Princess', roughly." Bianka replied. "She was the only surviving matriarch from the original families. Many of the others were inexplicably lost." She shook her head. "No one can claim to know why. We lost the Dragul, the Ecsed, the Velica in some..." Bianka trailed off. "I can only hope it was some great tragedy, though likely it was assassinations." She compressed her lips together. "It doesn't matter anymore, because she only had one issue, a son: Konrad lon Pavlenko."

"Why doesn't it matter?" Katarina asked, as they strode through the estate.

"Because she didn't have a woman child." Bianka replied testily. "Konrad was forced to marry beneath his station to keep the lon Pavlenko name, but at the cost of the right to claim Doamna for the House."

"So we no longer have royal blood." Katarina mused. Bianka grimaced. "If our line weren't strictly matriarchal, we would. But patriarchy is a thing for other lands, other families. We no longer have the right of blood to claim Doamna." She spoke this last tersely, as if Bianka could throttle Mihaela herself for the crime of not birthing a proper successor.

Abruptly, Bianka gestured to a row of portraits. They had arrived at the Hall of Ancestry.

"Our proper matriarch is Boiyar Anastasija lon Pavlenko." She announced, and gestured to the largest portrait. "She knew the value of proper succession. The title of Boiyar was earned with her, and kept from generation to generation for twelve hundred years. Your great-grandmother Arina lon Pavlenko was Boiyar, your grandmother, my mother, Claudia lon Pavlenko was Boiyar until she passed the title to me, and when it comes time, you will be Boiyar." Bianka explained, pointing out each family member, ensconced in a massive painting with ponderous framing and gilt edging.

Katarina shook her head. "The title is ..." She trailed off. "Ardeal is a part of the Empire."

Bianka shot her a hot look. "You strip that Anglish thought from your head, Daughter. You come from a proud line of proper women, and I will not have you insult that legacy, even unaware." She spat. "You have the right and responsibility to claim that title." She waved her hand dismissively, "Even if you keep up this idea of wandering the cities hunting witches." She took a breath.

"Forgive me, daughter." She breathed. "Our future has been so uncertain, lately." She trailed off.

Katarina cocked her head. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "What do you mean?" She asked diffidently.

"The Anglish might not recognize it, but Those in Ardeal do." Bianka stated flatly. "We have cousins there. Lon Pavlenkos, like ourselves, but only through intermarriage. Their claim is weaker, and they have no matriarch who carries a proper lineage." She paused and looked down at her hands. "I know you must not like what I have to say, darling, but you must succeed the family." She began in a low voice. "To keep our name, Kristoff will also have to marry beneath his station, but at the cost of titles. Our cousins in the old country would swarm in on us like..." She trailed off. "No titles. No claim to nobility. Our family would be lost. No longer could we claim tithe-rights. No longer would we be able to own land. Our holdings, our warehouses, our estates, all gone. Gone."

She looked up at Katarina. "All our hopes lie with you, daughter. A mage cannot inherit titles or lands, so Alsabet cannot claim blood rights. Kristoff is not a daft boy, but..." She trailed off. "Please." She whispered.

"You have a unique way of asking a favor, mother." Katarina replied testily. "And I'm not sure if it will work in any case." She added. "I could die any day, a victim of beastmen, mutants, witches, or abominations. A meaningless, empty death in a stretch of forest that won't see the light of civilization for at least a hundred years." Katarina argued.

Bianka clenched her fists. "I thought you said you were done with the Church, daughter." Bianka began dangerously.

"I said no such thing." Katarina replied, to which Bianka responded with a full-arm slap.

Without thought, without even a split-second's consideration for the possible consequences, Katarina immediately responded with a slap of her own.

Bianka glared at her with a gasping, shocked expression. "You what? You dare strike me?" Bianka screeched. She swung at Katarina, who caught her mother's hand easily, and then pulled the older woman into an embrace.

Bianka struggled against her daughter's embrace, but Katarina was taller, and stronger besides.

"Mother, I don't know right now if leaving the Church is the best choice for me." She murmured as Bianka struggled. "There's a lot coming at me from all sorts of directions and..." She sighed. "I need a break. I have to think things through carefully."

She left Bianka go, who glared irritatedly up at her daughter. "You've got arms like steel bars, daughter." She grumped. Katarina gave her a wan smile at this.

"How about this: Take a year off from the Church." Bianka offered. Katarina raised an eyebrow.

"A year?"

Bianka nodded. "Those bastards already got it coming to them- taking both of my daughters away "In the name of the Goddess". She sneered, and then her face twisted, eyes misting up. "You're not even a mage, and they still took you."

Katarina let out a breath. "They had their reasons. Let it go." She urged in a quiet voice. "I'm here now."

She eyed Bianka from the corner of her eye while looking at the massive portraits. Anastasija was the only one wearing armor, all the others wore dresses of various cuts and fashions. She stood, half leaning on a massive sword nearly as long as she was. She possessed the same regal beauty and imperious nobility that every other Lon Pavlenko reflected, but her eyes seemed to hold some spark of mischievous fire; a soldier that would sing songs in an off-key but lusty voice, who would fight and fuck and frolic with the same passionate abandon.

"You're a lot like her, you know." Olivia remarked quietly.

"She's got dark hair... and I don't think I could carry, much less swing a sword that large." Katarina murmured.

"She fought alongside the Anglish saint Alicia. She was every bit as fiery and headstrong as you are. There are some that say she had several banstiz, but that's rumor, and disgraceful, besides."

"Ban- what?" Katarina frowned, unable to interpret the unfamiliar word.

Her mother gave her a look. "Bastards." She replied curtly. "There's a family legend that has persisted as long as the house has persisted: She was..." Bianka paused. "Frivolous. One tale has her birthing a banstiz at a hostel, staying three days, and leaving for battle on the fourth."

Katarina shook her head at that. "Unbelievable." She murmured.

"She had the constitution for it, it was said." Bianka replied. "After Alicia was killed, Anastasija retired from fighting. She took a husband from Urdistan, had three daughters, a number of sons that were subsequently useless, and died with dignity."

"You want me to do the same." Katarina forwarded.

Bianka let out a testy sigh. "You make more of it than you should." She replied. "You could take a husband from one of the branches of the Von Karsteins." Bianka forwarded blithely. "Have a daughter. Spend a few months recovering. I'll name Kristoff regent in your stead. You go back to adventuring, gallivanting off Goddess-knows-where."

Katarina gave her a baffled look. "It's all so very clean and sanitary, when you put it that way." Katarina replied dryly.

"Katarina... it's not just for me, or your father. It's the family. Our legacy." Bianka bit her lip. "If we lose this... we lose everything."

Katarina rolled her eyes. "Three months ago, the only thing I knew about my family is that my sister had gone rogue and it was my responsibility to hunt her down and kill her." She barked a cynical laugh. "And now the entirety of my house's future rests exclusively on my shoulders. To solve the problem, all I need to do is marry someone I don't know, spread my legs for him, and hope and pray to the Goddess that it's a girl." She let out a shaky breath. "If it's not-" She began, "If the first one is a boy, am I expected to give up another year of my life? What if that one is also a boy?" She demanded. "How many years must I sacrifice for a family I barely know?" She demanded.

Bianka raised her eyebrow. "I've heard those excuses before. From my own lips, in fact. I thought I'd done my duty for the family when I had you and Alsabet." She shook her head. "By then it was too late. I loved Rickard. I couldn't take ships back and forth anymore. I thought everything was perfect, just perfect. I had the most adorable daughters... and then the Church of the Golden Lady came and took them both away." Her voice turned hard, brittle. "Fuck the Church." She spat bitterly. She shook her head.

"Let's go get breakfast." Katarina urged, and Bianka nodded. Together they moved back towards the Witch Hunter's apartments.

"Please don't tell me I have to pose for one of those paintings." Katarina quipped with a frown.

Bianka laughed. "You're getting the title invested today. We'll celebrate tonight. Tomorrow you pose." She replied.

"My brother won't like that." Katarina observed. Bianka shook her head. "He can't become Boiyar, no matter how hard he tries. Simply not possible. He can run the business. He can count inventory. He can negotiate trade. He can keep those scheming parasites that call themselves Lon Pavlenkos on the other side of the Mirras, away from us. But he can't be a Boiyar. Even if he were to marry and have a daughter, no matter what, she couldn't become Boiyar either. He knows it, too."

Katarina nodded. "I'll still need to talk to him. See if I can get him to settle down. Last night he was definitely unhappy that I was here."

Bianka nodded. "I tell you what, Let's have a breakfast like mother and daughter, and you can tell me of some of the places you've been to."

Katarina nodded. "I'd like that a lot."

As expected, her brother was sullen and tight-lipped when their mother announced that afternoon that Katarina would be taking the title of Boiyar.

As the newest Boiyar, it fell to Katarina to decide what her Crest would be, and pose for her portrait, but she immediately decided to put that off. The painter was a sanctioned mage, and would be using magic to create the painting, dramatically shortening a process that would typically take several weeks into one that would take only several hours.

A critical part of her crest would have to be the Pavlenko shield, which was a simple device; a shield of white with three long curved marks like talons on the left side. That was the centerpoint of the Pavlenko family crest, though it fell to whomever was Boiyar to pick out the details that would personalize it for themselves, a small mark of individuality in a long family lineage.

Katarina didn't feel too comfortable going through either process. She was a Witch Hunter, and she had a job to do. No matter how happy the thought of spending time with her family made her, she couldn't afford to take on the responsibilities her mother was impatiently thrusting upon her. So, she put the appointments off, and when Bianka made noises over how she should be in a proper dress, Katarina took to stubbornly wearing her trousers and shirts, a silent act of defiance.

"Pastor Aleima, may i first say that it's a complete surprise to see you." the older man began, and Aleima nodded. "It is, at that." Aleima replied, looking around the familiar study. It had been a decade, but she remembered what it was like sitting on the opposite side of that very same desk.

"It wasn't my intention to return, either. But circumstances have forced my hand." She finished. His mouth twisted at that.

"So I heard." The older man replied, running a hand through his thinning hair and tapping the sheaf of papers with his free hand. "You claim to have borne witness to a miracle."

Aleima nodded. "A true mysterium fidei." She replied. "Katarina came to us grievously wounded, and when she awoke, her wound had vanished overnight."

"Magic." the man replied, "can do such things. We have several magical healers ourselves, here in this temple."

She nodded. That's certainly true." She allowed. "But there are no mages among my people." She advised sternly. "And I'm certain that were Katarina subjected to the appropriate scrutiny, we would discover Her divine hand. Gather the Priestesses. Consult the Lady's Tarot. I'm certain-" She began, but was cut off.

"Right." he replied, interrupting her. "Justicar Witch Hunter Katarina." He added. "Katarina of House Pavlenko." He added again. "You understand that this puts me in a... delicate... position." he complained.

"I'm not sure I understand at all." Aleima replied simply.

He shook his head. "My apologies. There's a number of details that you're perhaps unaware of, so I'll summarise them quickly." he began, and cleared his throat: "First is the family: The relationship between the House of Pavlenko and the Church has grown somewhat... strained. They're less content to deal with us, and amass authority for themselves. It's been this way for the past twenty years." he advised, and leaned towards her and lowered his voice conspiratorily. "They're still sore regarding their daughters." he murmured. Aleima nodded to show she understood. This was old news, even when she was in charge of this Church. The Church had treated the Pavlenkos' rudely; had effectively gutted and neutered the Noble House.

"Secondly, is the woman herself: Katarina has fallen under a certain amount of scrutiny from several factions within the Church itself." He advised gently. "There is an inquest into her actions in the port city of Aston. When I submitted your report to Darnell-"

Aleima opened her mouth to protest and he held up his hand. "Don't fault me, old friend. I have to follow protocol, you know this." He urged, and then continued when she subsided. "When I submitted your report to Darnell, I received not one, but three separate responses:" he began with an awed shake of his head.

"The first from the Book of the Golden Lady: A warrant. She is to return to Darnell immediately and with all haste. Her authorities as a Witch Hunter have been frozen and will not be returned to her until she presents herself to the Book of the Golden Lady. If she is unwilling to travel under her own recognizance, she is to submit to arrest and seizure for forcible transportation." Aleima gasped, hand going to her heart. He nodded. "Apparently, she was summoned to Darnell to be rewarded for her extended services. Instead, she ignored their summons and pursued an assignment that was given... reluctantly." he sighed. "I made some inquiries. I am not entirely without friends in Darnell. The order was given for her to hunt her sister, Alsabet Pavlenko." he spread his hands. "It was expected that she would refuse. They were expecting that." he argued. "It makes sense, no? Given a choice between travelling to Darnell and hunting your own sister, surely travelling to Darnell is the less onerous task. Instead of accepting the assignment, she would instead travel to Darnell."

"She didn't." Aleima breathed.

He shook his head. "She took the assignment." Aleima covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. The poor dear.

"You mentioned other responses?" She asked, and he nodded. "The second was a strongly worded warrant for the arrest and seizure of Katarina from the Torchbearers." he replied, and handed it to her. "She is suspected of heresy, cavorting with unknown powers, and mutation."

"But that's simply untrue." Aleima breathed, handing the letter back. "Anyone who has met Katarina knows she walks in the light of the Goddess."

"I suspect the testimony of a pastor that left the Church would count little to her defense." He advised drily. She glared at him hotly, the accusation in her eyes, but she clamped her mouth shut and forced herself to calm down.

"The third?" She asked after she had calmed herself down, and he sighed. "It wasn't a letter. It was..." he paused. "The Cultus Sancte. They dispatched three investigators here not more than an hour after you gave me your report, Aleima." he added. "They are extremely eager to meet with her."

She shook her head. "I'm not familiar with the Cultus Sancte." She replied. He nodded. "I am not surprised. I had to look them up, myself. They're a small branch of the Church, Aleima. They exclusively concern themselves with... persons of interest. Heroes of the Empire. They curate their remains after they have passed, they compile records and recommend sanctification." His voice dropped to one filled with awe. "They arrived by Rune of Translation." He whispered. She could easily see the shock painted across his face; it likely mirrored her own.

Aleima rose half out of her seat in shock. "Translation?!" She exclaimed, hand on her heart. "Here?!"

He nodded. The use of a Rune of Translation was rare indeed. It required an incredibly skilled mage and a wealth of expensive materials to teleport something using a Rune of Translation. Not only that, there was a certain reluctance that came with using a Rune of Translation. Nobody wanted to willingly be scrambled about with magic, and then sent across the world on the tides of magic. Who knew what would happen to you?

"I have them waiting in the Wing of Contemplation." He advised. "We don't have many records of Katarina's activities here, however."

He sighed, and tapped his thumbs together. "There are a great many forces swirling around your Katarina." He advised. "Were I you, I'd hightail it back to the woods before the storm overwhelms you." He tapped his desk meditatively for a moment.

"Is she here?" He finally asked, but then raised his hand from the desk. "Do us both a favor and don't answer that." He decided. "You know that... the moment I know she's here, I will do my duty."

Aleima nodded. She hated that about him. Insufferable. Always by the book. No room in his heart for flexibility. She'd always hated that about him, and that was one of the contributing forces behind her decision to leave.

The Goddess taught her children to love their fellow man, to teach them, and to protect them. The Church however taught an increasingly different lesson. Rules and laws and codes of conduct, codes of morality, codes of ethical treatment of animals, codes of this, that, and the other.

In her heart she believed that the Anglish Empire was necessary, but at the same time she couldn't feel comfortable working, living, and loving in the shadow of the intensely political machinery of the church. She had joined the dozens of people that had become disaffected by the church, and eventually come to be recognized as their leader. The dozens had swelled to hundreds, and Aleima knew that eventually her community would draw the attention of the Arm of the Sword and a punitive force would be sent out against them. She didn't want to be a part of that. She didn't want to see her people butchered in the name of the Church, and she in turn didn't want to see her people butcher for the Goddess.

She let out a long breath. "Do you still take your walks in the gardens, Anton?" She asked her former husband gently. He nodded. "Every evening." he replied simply.

"Then while you are attending your constitutional, I think I should find myself in the Wing of Contemplation." She replied slowly.

"Hey, Aleima." He began quietly. "Is there really no hope for us?" He asked quietly. She let out a sigh. "Even now, there's never been anyone else." he added. "For me, there was only you."

She nodded. "The same for me, Anton." She replied. "But as much as I love you, you're still..." She shook her head. "My reasons for leaving haven't changed." she replied. He let out a long, despondent sigh.