Chapter 72

"Are they here to arrest me?" Katarina asked Olivia, when she'd returned to the yard.

Olivia shook her head and waved at the guards. "Can you get us a carriage?" She asked. "I don't think I can..." She shook her head, and the two guards nodded and saluted, fist to heart.

"I was worried that you would leave, yes." She replied truthfully. "It didn't make sense, since you left your gun and sword and stuff, but just to be on the safe side." She put her hands on her hips. "All this over some wine?" Olivia could see the muscles in Katarina's jaw bunch at this sally.

"You think this is over some wine?" Katarina began, hands clenching into fists dangerously. She stopped, visibly restraining herself, and covered her face with her hands. "Of course you do. What else could it be but a fucking cup of wine?" She answered herself. She shook her head and took a breath. When she lowered her hands, she locked her angry gaze with Olivia's.

"Lady Cardinal, in the Empire, magic cults thrive in every city I have visited." She spat angrily. "Beastmen are breeding by the hundreds in the forests, and mutancy is everywhere! Mages summon demons, raise the dead, and cavort with blasphemous things!" She shouted into the shorter woman's face, droplets of spittle flying.

"And the clergy, those who should be servants of the Goddess, are instead servants of the Church- or worse, themselves!" She continued, hot and furious. "They're morally corrupt, and the only thing they can think of is how to expand their money pouch and their authority!" She spat , her rage fully flowing now. "It's my job to stand against those threats, and yet I can't. Because the Church won't let me! Because you won't let me!" Her voice was rising to a strident shriek. She bit back whatever else she was going to say, struggling to put a cap on her anger. She'd gone too far. She had to bottle it up, shut it down. She took a long, shaky breath, and in a lower tone of voice, almost normal, she added, "So yes, you're absolutely right, this is about a single cup of wine."

She pushed past the Lady Cardinal. "I've got shit to do, and you're keeping me from it." She muttered as she strode out of the arena.

As soon as Olivia was certain Katarina was gone, she sagged. Katarina blasting her with naked fury and contempt was terrifying.

Katarina had never used a baptistery before, and so she'd never needed to go through the process of confession and contrition. The pool and confession were voluntary tools used for the faithful, the few that felt the need to discharge their sins through ritual purification. She wouldn't be here were it not for Nadette's advice.

The first part was a confession of sins. Katarina didn't believe she'd sinned, not really, but she'd been told that the value came from the telling, not whether or not it was actually a sin, and so Katarina had mentally rolled up her sleeves and went to work. The incense helped loosen her tongue, loosen the restraints she placed on her emotions, allowing her the freedom to speak unreservedly of the things she'd done.

When she was finished, the Mother Confessor's eyes were a little pop-eyed, a little starey, her expression a tinge green. Katarina had began with the night she'd protected her friend Rika from four bullies at the age of eleven, an incident that was still sealed to the highest authority, and she continued through her first kill as a Witch Hunter, all the hunts and kills she'd accomplished through the ten years of her career as a Witch Hunter. Every Witch, every abomination. Every mutant, every heretic, every blasphemy she'd defeated, every atrocity witnessed, every horror that had dragged its claws across her soul.

"The Goddess has heard you." The Mother Confessor finally acknowledged. She seemed a bit unsettled by all that the Witch Hunter had revealed, but the woman was bound by rule to listen to everything confessed, bound to listen and forbidden from repeating.

"Your attention to detail and ability to recall are certainly... noteworthy." She added. "You've earned the right to use the pool of the Golden Lady. The usual time is thirty minutes." She explained. "During this time you will not be disturbed."

Katarina drifted on the surface of the pool, relaxed. If she opened her eyes, the inner surface of the dome was covered in a warm mosaic of tiles depicting rolling green hills, dotted with lilies. Directly overhead was a stylized sunburst in worked gold.

She was vaguely aware of what had happened to her while the incense was working. The intoxicating and hypnotizing effects had freed her tongue and all the doors and windows of her mind that she subconsciously kept closed tight had opened wide. She'd spilled everything in addition to the things she'd seen and experienced. Her terror, her fear, her revulsion, her hate, her disgust, everything had flowed out while she drifted in a strange fog, watching herself talk about the things she'd never shared with anyone, unable to resist. The woman would ask a question, Katarina would answer, back and forth, over and over again. Each incident, each encounter she'd had since she'd become a Witch Hunter was unspooled, examined, and understood.

Up until the point where she began the process with the revered mother, Katarina hadn't believed she'd felt much of anything about the things she'd experienced, but the reality was shocking to her. She'd felt and reacted a lot more than she'd been consciously aware of.

Despite the fact that Katarina had gone on at length across ten years of encounters, the woman kept pace with it all, addressing each incident with patience and a compassionate understanding.

While Katarina idly reviewed her session with the woman she drifted in the pool on her back, feeling the warm water against her skin, the light breeze that moved through the baptistery, the mild rocking as the water moved. Katarina was vaguely aware someone was watching her, as she was when she was speaking with the revered mother. The feeling was constant and persistent but not intrusive.

Katarina had always been sensitive to the presence of others around her, and she was reasonably certain she knew who it was. She briefly considered several scenarios where she confronted Olivia.

How should she act? She wondered, and in her mind allowed herself to play out each scenario. What should the end goal be? In this state, coming down from the trance-state that the incense evoked, it was hard to separate herself from her emotions. There was no doubt at all in her mind that it was Olivia that listened to her confession in the Revered Mother's rooms, just as there was no doubt that Olivia was even now watching her float in the pool.

Katarina's anger was hot and fresh, a blazing fire. Betrayal was a freezing cold acid that bored into the depths of her being. She'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable before, and the knowledge that Olivia had been there in secret, drinking up a lifetimes' worth of Katarina's own secret thoughts and feelings caused her feelings to thrash about in her breast. She wanted to crucify the other woman. She struggled with regaining the calm and nearly clinical feeling of detachment she'd had before.

Unbidden, the thought stole into her mind, a memory of how she'd felt when she'd placed the mithral circlet of tiny leaves on her head, the armlet on her bicep, and the feeling of the sword in her hand. The Regalia of the Dawn, sacred relics forged from mithril and orichalcum, supposedly blessed and consecrated by the Goddess Herself, a gift to prized servants. The Crown of the Dawn annoyingly gave her a halo, and granted her some defensive powers that bordered on the miraculous. The Bracelet of the Healer allowed her to the shocking ability to cast potent healing spells, something typically impossible for a Witch Hunter. The Rod of the Dawn had at some point been reforged into the Sword of the Dawn. While holding it, Katarina could command absolute obedience from anyone who heard and understood her words. As in so many things, the Regalia of the Dawn had passed into myth and campfire-talk.

There had been a bold sensation of lassitude that spread over her, a feeling of utter and complete righteous command, total dominion of herself and everything around her, and an overwhelming feeling of utter serenity. Whatever happened beyond the sphere of her control, happened, and she was ever poised to address it with equanimity and authority. Oh, how she wished she could feel that again.

She breathed out slowly, letting her awareness spread out from her so that she floated in perfect weightlessness, perfect silence, perfect balance between sky and earth. Unbidden, the Golden Lady's vow came to her mind, and she repeated it to herself.

"I kill, I give life. I injure, I heal. There are none who escape from my hands. There are none who escape from my eyes. May it be so that you are shattered."

"I welcome the defeated, the aged. Surrender to me, learn from me, obey me. May you be at rest."

"Do not forget the song, do not forget the prayer, do not forget me. I relieve you of all burdens. May it be so that there is no deception."

"Retaliation unto forgiveness, betrayal unto belief, despair unto hope, darkness unto light, death unto life. May you rest in my hands. Let there be a mark of your sins."

"Eternal life is found only in death. Forgiveness is before you, and so my incarnation vows."

An overwhelming sense of pressure filled her, as if all of creation itself weighed down on her, stifling her breath, pressing her into the water, but at the same time, a burning sort of fire seemed to spring up in her belly, a feeling of divine ascendency that gave her the strength to push back, to impose her will against the terrible weight of all that bore down upon her. Her heart throbbed in her chest, her breathing steadied.

It wasn't enough. She could feel it, an inadequacy, a deficiency. An understanding came upon her. She was not yet ready. Soon, perhaps. She relaxed, and the overwhelming feeling of pressure subsided.

No matter how many times she saw it, Katarina's figure always amazed and impressed Olivia. The woman was stunning, her muscles firm and taut, her bust magnificent. Her arms and legs were long and straight, the line from her ribs her hips was heavenly, her fingers long and slender. Her body was dotted in scars, many light and faded with age, others newer, and her long hair drifted in the pool, unbound, like delicate fronds of gold and silver.

She watched Katarina drift in the pool with eyes alight with greedy lust, but inwardly she was regretting the endless hours she'd spent listening in to Katarina's confession, to hearing Katarina recant horror after horror, nightmare after nightmare. She shouldn't have done it in the first place; it violated every precept, law, and social understanding of privacy, but she couldn't help herself, she'd quietly listened at the door as Katarina unveiled a lifetime of endless struggle against the profane. A mage, corrupted and foul, violating an abandoned cathedral and raising dozens of smoldering undead, and only Katarina stood against him. An entire village put to the sword when every single one of them had been covered in ghastly mutations. Cannibal beastmen, devouring the innocent. Mutant beasts with multiple heads, blasphemous demons and abominations. A seemingly endless parade of horrific things, ghastly things, nightmarish things, and Katarina had seen and stood against them all.

Olivia was reminded, once again, that there was a fundamental difference between the two of them. Katarina lived cheek and jowl with the horrific. She slaughtered the grotesque, she warred with the blasphemous.

Where was she? Olivia wondered, turning her thoughts inward at herself. What did she stand for? Truly, from Katarina's perspective, Olivia's worries and frets were irrelevant and foolish, trivial things. She thought back to her first meeting with the woman, where she'd talked about the walking dead, about demons and other foul things marching on the town of Norn. How trivially she'd waved off Katarina's worries!

A stark realization washed over her, chilling her heart. She'd brushed off Katarina's exhortations with a negligent wave and a thought- "Someone else will see to it." That person was lying in that pool, right there. Katarina was that 'someone else'. She was the one that risked her life every day so that people like Olivia could go on with their lives in dreadfully ignorant bliss. She owed the Witch Hunter an apology from the bottom of her heart, and she knew, even then, that it wouldn't be enough.

She blinked; a golden shimmer seemed to limn the edges of Katarina's figure, likely a trick of the light. The baptistery was at the pinnacle of the central spire of the Grand Cathedral, with twelve open faces letting in the sunlight. Olivia glanced up at the sunburst picked out in gold leaf and nodded. The light, bouncing off the ripples in the pool, hitting the polished gold and reflecting down. She nodded. Logical. Katarina wasn't glowing.

Olivia was waiting for Katarina when she returned to her apartments.

"Your hair is wet." Olivia observed. "Are you all right? Did you fall into a fountain?" She asked, and Katarina eyed her sharply. Olivia wanted to cower beneath that gaze. Katarina was practically crackling with imperious authority.

"What?" Olivia asked. "Are you going to yell at me again?" She asked, and drew herself up to her full height, which was roughly equal to Katarina's shoulder. "Fire away, I'm ready." she dared, spreading her arms wide.

After a long minute where Katarina stared at Olivia, who returned her gaze, unblinking, Katarina finally broke the silence.

"You know I can tell when someone is following me, right?" She asked patiently. "Did you enjoy listening to my confession?" She asked levelly.

Olivia shook her head immediately, dropping her arms. "I didn't." She replied honestly, bowing her head contritely. "I deeply regret it, for intruding on your privacy." She paused, and grimaced. "It also made me painfully aware of a great many truths- uncomfortable truths- that I readily admit I wasn't aware of." She replied in a shaky voice.

"And did you enjoy watching me in the pool?" Katarina asked archly, fist on her hip, and Olivia nodded at that. "Absolutely. You're gorgeous, Katarina. I've never made any secret of my desire for you."

Katarina glanced down, and Olivia could see the thoughts churning in the Witch Hunter's head.

"You knew, and yet you asked if I fell into a fountain?" Katarina asked. "Just how much of your deception is obfuscation of the truth?" She wondered aloud.

"It's called 'tact', Katarina." Olivia replied. "It gave you the opportunity to tell me. Or not. You deserve your dignity." She rolled her eyes. "I am aware of the contradiction." she added challengingly.

"Would you have apologized for listening in and following me around if I had played along with your charade?" Katarina asked. Olivia nodded at that.

"I would still apologize." She stated simply. "I did something shameful."

"What should I do with you?" Katarina mused. Olivia shook her head, eyes still downcast. "You should know, you have my vow in that book of yours." She advised, still not looking up. "I will not reveal a word you said to anyone." She reminded, speaking her promise from earlier.

She stood there, shaking with dread, regret, and shame. Katarina was a woman of action. No, that wasn't correct: Katarina was a woman of violence. The Book of the Golden Lady could put her in dresses, make her attend balls and functions, but Katarina was no socialite. Her first response, her only response was violence.

"Betrayal for forgiveness, despair into hope, darkness into light." Katarina replied after the long silence where Olivia was certain Katarina would slit her throat, and Olivia's face screwed up in confusion. She raised her head and gave the woman a baffled expression, and stumbled back, her footing suddenly unsure.

Katarina was radiant. She was shrouded in a composed serenity so intense she practically glowed from within.

"Let's trade then, Lady Cardinal Olivia Wolfe." Katarina remarked in that strangely serene voice, and stepped towards the smaller woman, hands out. Olivia shied from her, terror cramming her body with adrenaline. Of all the things she'd expected this was wholly not one of them. She had been, at least on some level, prepared to die, or at least be on the wrong end of a violent thrashing.

Katarina captured the Lady Cardinal's face in her hands. Olivia jolted, freezing. The woman's hands were warm and tender, but Olivia shuddered as if they were blocks of ice. Her teeth chattered, her whole body shook, her fingers jittered, her knees were trembling.

Katarina pulled her face to her, lowering her own. Her lips pressed against Olivia's and a jolt like an electric shock bolted through Olivia. Tears tracked down her face, and her heart throbbed in her chest so hard she could feel the beat in her throat. She couldn't breathe, her head was filled with an inescapable, gibbering terror and panic.

Katarina broke the kiss. "I'll trade your betrayal for my forgiveness." She murmured in a low voice, and brushed away Olivia's tears. Olivia couldn't hold on to consciousness any longer; she passed out.