CHAPTER 103

Olivia stood up so abruptly that the chair she was on teetered and nearly fell over, were it not for the Lady Cardinal’s reflexive grab. There didn't need to be a Congregation of Doctrine and Faith about Katarina. This was it. This was the real deal.

For a long time, minutes, hours, she couldn’t say, she stood frozen with indecision, one hand on the back of the chair, staring at the book. Everything was frozen; She couldn’t move. Inside, however, everything was in freefall. There was no conscious or coherent thought, just wave after wave of some unidentifiable emotion that washed over her.

"I ..." She breathed, and like that, her head seemed to clear. "I need..." She trailed off. What did she need? She could feel it happening again; her mind wanted to go away, to hide from the awful realizations that lay just on the other side of understanding. She didn’t want to understand. She didn’t want to realize. She knew what it meant, and so her mind sought escape. Each realization that would come after the first would be worse and consecutively worse. All secrets were connected. Once the first was realized, one couldn’t hope to do anything as the veil was drawn back, inch by inch, revealing each new realization.

For all intents and purposes, Katarina was the first Apostle of the Golden Lady in nearly eight hundred years. A woman chosen by the Golden Lady to triumph her cause to the world. Olivia’s knees quivered. She had slapped the taller woman. Slapped her. Slapped an Apostle. A Living Saint. Right across the face. Bathed with her. Made love with her. Gotten drunk with her. Shame and guilt battled with each horrific realization.

An irrational fury, a hateful spark of anger leapt up in Olivia’s breast. Katarina had known! Known all along, and kept her mouth shut! She should have immediately come to Darnell upon receiving that vow!

The anger helped Olivia steady herself. She glared at the Witch Hunter’s book, lips peeling back in an unconscious snarl. Stupid bitch! Olivia raged silently, a current of horrified realization under her anger; calling an Apostle of the Goddess a bitch.

She should take the book to the Grand Cardinal. She needed to. She shouldn’t hesitate anymore. No more fucking around. Fuck the reports of the Cultus Sancte; they only hinted at things. This was the real deal.

She turned back to the book, and recoiled at the last recorded conversation. Somehow the pages had turned; her own words started up at her: blank, mute, accusing.

[Olivia]: "Katarina."

[Olivia]: "In order to foster our trust, I’d like to make some promises to you."

[Olivia]: "On my own honor, and as Lady Cardinal, I, Olivia Wolfe vow to keep everything you tell me in the strictest of confidence. I won’t tell anyone anything you say to me, unless you explicitly allow me to do so."

[Olivia]: "I have no plots or plans of my own for you, except what I’ve already revealed to you."

[Katarina]: "You’re being awfully forthright."

[Olivia]: "I want you to feel welcomed and appreciated. I want you to know that I can be your ally, friend, and confidant, if you will let me."

[Katarina]: "You never let up with that."

[Olivia]: "You seem bent on ignoring it."

[Katarina]: "Tenets of war. No one begs for peace more than the man with a sword in his hand."

[Katarina]: "Do not think my promise to the Book of the Golden Lady idle words."

[Olivia]: "We can go around and around on this, but I thought you might like an advocate on the Book of the Golden Lady."

She never hated the Witch Hunter more than in that moment. No matter what, her obligation was to spread the word, reveal the truth. She couldn’t hesitate. She needed to knock on every door, rouse all the Lady Cardinals, and show them the incontrovertible evidence.

Olivia turned the page, following debates, arguments, conversations. Her eyes misted up, recalling them in her mind. And then, strangely out of place, a conversation with Phoebe, of all people:

[Phoebe] "Sit, eat."

[Phoebe] "There is no lesson I could teach you that you’d be capable of learning, so we’ll just have breakfast and we’ll call the lesson done."

[Phoebe] "Why do you insist on wearing trousers in the Church?"

[Phoebe] "And why, by the Goddess, do you have to carry that wherever you go?"

[Katarina] "Preparedness is the best and most effective tool for a Witch Hunter."

[Katarina] "And trousers are comfortable."

[Phoebe] "There are no Witches here."

[Katarina] "I killed the last Witch found in Darnell ten years ago."

[Katarina] "A man that had ensorcelled the minds of everyone around him for decades before he was discovered."

[Katarina] "Even now, even after so many years have passed since his judgement, people whisper and worry about his influences."

[Katarina] "And it was only thanks to the Golden Lady and my gun that he was rooted out."

[Katarina] "In the old days, back twelve hundred years or so, it was believed that being a mage was a hereditary trait, passed down from parent to child. Like eye color. And so if a Witch were discovered, all the remaining family members were likewise put to the torch."

[Katarina] "We know better, now. The mage talent expresses itself independent of inheritance."

[Katarina] "But other things certainly seem to be passed along the bloodlines, else why would the Golden Lady say, ‘I will visit my wrath upon those that betray me unto the last generation.’?"

[Katarina] "Lord Cardinal Verona, for example. A thousand years ago, he ordered Alicia, called ‘Silverthorn’, to the stake when she revealed his corruption. Angland learned that lesson well; no man has held a position of significant authority since."

[Katarina] "His House certainly objected, right up until the point where Alicia was canonized as a Saint of the Church. Only then did they do whatever was necessary to maintain their authority... including changing their name."

[Phoebe] "What are you babbling about, Witch Hunter?"

[Katarina] "They changed their name to ‘Capulet’. Your family killed Saint Alicia a thousand years ago, and ten years ago your family tried to kill me."

[Katarina] "Of course I would come armed to a breakfast with you."

[Phoebe] "You- you dare?!"

[Phoebe] "You accuse-!"

[Katarina] "This is where you threaten me and tell me that whether I live or die is solely up to your sufferance."

[Phoebe] "What is it that you want, Witch Hunter?"

[Katarina] "Want? I want nothing from you. It won’t be long, now. When it happens, I want you to know that I forgive you."

[Phoebe] "When it happens? When what happens?"

[Katarina] "Forget I said anything."

What other secrets did Katarina keep? Olivia wondered. She’d take the book to the Grand Cardinal, and then go to sleep. At least Katarina was there, in her dreams.

----------------------------------------

At first the Grand Cardinal resisted Olivia’s attempts at a second appointment. She considered forcibly retiring the woman, but couldn’t find a way that would allow her to do so without explicitly and irrevocably ruining Olivia’s standing. The woman was understandably distraught, but that thing with trying to climb into Her Radiances’ apartments! The audacity! The temerity! She wanted to slap the woman senseless. Or maybe slap her until her senses returned. Olivia was a Lady Cardinal, she had responsibilities and obligations that superseded her own loss.

I’ll see her one more time. Just the once. And then I’m going to order her to make a choice to either take a retreat so that she can mourn in private, or resume her duties. No more kid gloves.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

----------------------------------------

The Grand Cardinal flipped through the book, recognizing it for what it was, an interrogation tool that recorded every spoken word near it. For a moment she was surprised to learn Katarina had one, but she remembered that Katarina had actually attained the rank of Inquisitor, and so she was given the tome.

"That woman was lonely." The Grand Cardinal muttered as she read. No small number of pages were filled with Katarina’s self-conversations, songs, complaints, prayers, and musings.

Olivia nodded. "You can see why she distrusted the Church."

The Grand Cardinal nodded. "...and there it is. The immortal vow." she observed with a sigh. "I’ve only-" the Grand Cardinal coughed. "I’ve only read about it obliquely. It was perhaps only providence that this book happened to capture it." She suddenly put her hand over her heart. The spoken word of the Goddess, plain as day.

Francesca turned the page, hoping for more. She flipped through several more pages.

"You vowed to keep her in your confidence?" The Grand Cardinal asked. Olivia nodded.

"Despite the fact you were ordered to report on her behavior?" Olivia nodded again.

Francesca chuckled. "I’m glad. That woman needed an ally against us, the stinking vultures." She spat. "That Phoebe!"

"There’s more, Your Grace." Olivia urged, and the Grand Cardinal flipped the page.

"Well." The Grand Cardinal began abruptly. "Well, well, well." She breathed. "So Phoebe’s house was the one that slew Alicia Silverthorn. I had no idea." She breathed. "Mind you, there were quite a few Houses that changed names to hide their involvement in the Civil War."

She paged back and froze.

"She..." Francesca’s hands shook and the book tumbled from her nerveless fingers. Olivia scooped it up and held it to her chest.

"That woman..." The Grand Cardinal swore. "I swear by all that is holy if she were here I would slap the teeth off her!" She glanced at Olivia. "She met with the Alhambras."

Olivia nodded. "She returned the Tears of Celestine to them." She agreed.

"In exchange for wine. Wine! A priceless relic like that, from Celestine Herself, and she trades it off to the Alhambras for some fucking wine!"

"It did belong to them." Olivia acknowledged.

Francesca let out an exasperated sigh. "She wanted to trade the journal of Anastasija lon Pavlenko for the right to inherit the ancient Ardeal title of Doamna. She gave the Alhambras their heirloom necklace. She had the fucking Emerald Tablets right fucking here!"

She paused, and pointed at that book. "And she spoke with the Golden Lady." She shook her head.

"Unbelievable!" She blurted. "All she had to do was lay them out in front of us and bam!" She slapped the table for emphasis, "We would have had no choice at all but to do exactly as she wanted. The whole of the Anglish Empire would have bent over backwards to grant a wish- any wish- no matter how ridiculous."

"...and all she wanted was to be a Witch Hunter." She finally stated. "As if we could allow that to happen. She is-" She paused. "Was, too important." She looked up at Olivia.

"That book- she forgave Phoebe, did she not?"

Olivia nodded. "That’s right."

Francesca let out an exasperated sigh. "All right. Get my secretary in here. Not a word of what we discussed to anyone."

"What- what do you plan to do?" Olivia asked.

"I’m going to rescind Phoebe’s death sentence. Blessed Katarina forgave her. She’ll still be disgraced, and she will no longer hold a position, but she’ll have her life. She smiled grimly. "And I’ll make sure she knows it was Her Serenity Katarina who spared her." She let out a breath. "...Also, when you visit..." She hesitated. It was so easy for her to call Bianka a spitebul bitch, a bitter, cantankerous woman. There was simply no way she could like the woman at all, and yet...

It was Francesca who had been dispatched to retrieve Alsabet, since the girl had awakened as a mage. She'd scarcely finished with that task when she'd been ordered to return to the Pavlenkos and take Katarina as well, because although Katarina did not have any magical talent, she tested strongly for magical resistance, a vital necessity for Witch Hunters and Inquisitors. Bianka had every right to hate Francesca. To hate the Church, for taking both of her daughters away from her. For hating the Empire and its endless demands.

It was only natural for Bianka to spite her. It was only natural for Francesca to spite Bianka in turn. She was just doing her job, after all. It wasn't like she'd had a scrap of authority at the time. Had she even once apologized to the woman? offered consolation? Reparation? Made any overtures at all to seal the rift that had sprang between them?

"When you visit Bianka lon Pavlenko, just-" She broke off. She didn't know how to start, how to begin. "That list I gave you, to take with you to Begierde." Francesca began. "Do you still have it?" Olivia nodded. "Please bring it here. I'd like- I need to make some changes."

Francesca was Grand Cardinal, and katarina had died under her watch. She was responsible. She needed to make up for that.

When Olivia returned, Francesca penned in a few lines. Hopefully it was enough. No, hopefully it was a start. Maybe, if she was lucky, Bianka might one day forgive her.

----------------------------------------

Olivia went to the Baptistry again. She couldn't take it anymore. The torment of living in a half-dream where she saw Katarina just slipping around the corner as Olivia entered a hallway, a half-glimpsed figure of a woman at the stables, she was haunted, tormented.

"Please, fix me!" She begged the Confessor.

The woman cast her incense, Olivia's mind was opened and laid bare. A priestess Olivia recognized from somewhere was brought in to consult; the woman ws shockingly pale, with lavender eyes and hair like white silk. She prayed over Olivia. The two women conferred together, and after Olivia's trip to the pool two wait out the residuals of the drugs and allowed to cleanse and compose herself, the Confessor and the Priestess both advised that Olivia get some well-deserved rest. Her body and mind were stressed to the point of breaking. She was given a packet of powder to drink with a cup of wine. It would put her into a deep slumber, deeper than any dream could follow. She had an important trip to make, and she needed to be well-rested for it.

As Olivia moved to leave, the priestess intercepted Olivia before she could leave the baptistry.

"I'm ... sorry for your loss." She offered. Olivia recognized her, finally. "You're Frederika, aren't you?"

Frederika nodded. "That's right. We've both been affected deeply by Katarina's loss."

"You knew her?" Olivia asked, and then she remembered. "Right, you went to school with her."

"That's right. She was like... She was like a sister to me." The woman replied.

"You loved her." Olivia countered, and Frederika noddedonce, shyly. "I did. I shouldn't say it. That sort of thing is..." She looked to Olivia. "You have no idea how jealous I am of you," she paused, "and how sad I am for you."

Olivia gave Frederika a considering look. "What was she like, in school?" Frederika laughed at the question. "Hot tempered. But determined. If someone bested her, or did something to make her furious with them, she'd turn it inward, driving herself to become ... better. Stronger. Smarter. When a boy from Montesilvano told her she didn't know poetry, she immediately quoted..." She trailed off and waved her fingers. "Some Montsilvano poet right back him. In his own language."

Olivia laughed at that. "That sounds like her, all right." She exclaimed. The laughter made her feel better. Not by much but... a little.

"Do you... have some time? Could we... could we talk about her together?" Olivia offered, and Frederika's eyes widened at the offer.

"I'd love that." She exclaimed. that would be just lovely."

It was easy to see why Katarina and Frederika had gotten along so well. Frederika was calm, well poised, and carried herself with a simple form of dignity. She held the rank of Cardinal Priestess, but refused the trappings, preferring to dress as a simple priestess.

"In Nauders, the House of Edelweiss is known as 'the White House'." she offered. "Because of our lineage... our trait for albinism." She explained. "Long before the Anglish empire, we of the White House were stewards of the land, watching over it. We did not grow our influence, we did not craft monuments or wage wars. We watched over the land and lived within an equilibrium with it. We’re not conquerors or kings. We live, we farm, we have a fair every spring where we celebrate the passing of another great winter. There have been times when we have had to march to war, but those times are few and far between. Before the Anglish came to us, the White House of Nauders was... We were teachers. Guides. Healers." She paused then, and smiled. "I'm probably breaking some protocol or another in saying this, but when you came to us and said, "Who are your leaders?" we suddenly became ..." She shrugged, and added "Nobility." She shook her head. "But we've never claimed to be, or hold ourselves to be 'better' or more important than our people. To the Anglish, I am a noblewoman. to the people of Nauders, I am a healer." She shrugged. I put far more importance on one than the other."

Olivia nodded. "I think maybe your priorities are a lot more proper than..." She trailed off, but Frederika shook her head.

"Don't say that. Don't think that." Frederika chastised gently. "Nauders is a small land of people that have to cling to each other and work together to survive. For them- for us, a guide is enough. A teacher is enough. A healer is enough. Angland is an Empire. An Empire has much higher responsibilities than to just one small group of people. An Empire must have strong leaders to guide it. Nobles, blessed by the Goddess with the authority and responsibility of overseeing the whole of it. Be proud in your role." She encouraged.

Olivia nodded. "You give good council." Frederika smiled at that.

"Think I will... head back to my apartments. I have a long trip ahead of me." Olivia offered as they finished their lunch.

"I wish you well." Frederika replied, the sincerity obvious in her tone. "I- when I had heard that she-" she shook her head. "I half-believed that Katarina was indestructible. There was nothing she couldn't do." She smiled. "I was not at all surprised to hear the announcement that she was an Apostle, chosen by the Goddess. All the Saints have been described as passionate, determined people."

Olivia bade the other woman farewell, and returned to her quarters. She poured the powder into a goblet, splashed in some brandy, and held up the glass. "Here's to a night with no dreams."

----------------------------------------

She was back in her bed, the thick velvety drapes keeping out the chill of the morning air. Katarina was beside her.

"I don’t want to wake up." She immediately blurted, adrenaline spiking her veins. "I cannot bear a world without you."

Katarina laughed and pushed one of Olivia’s arms away. "Hush, you." she urged and kissed Olivia.

"No! I..." Olivia complained. "Not this. I don’t want to wake in an empty bed with sticky fingers."

Katarina laughed. "Hush." She whispered again, and nuzzled the other woman’s neck seductively. "Just hush, and let me love you."

As the bells tolled the morning hour, Olivia looked up at her lover.

"You know Olivia, you were the one that taught me.... That really taught me about love." Katarina murmured, her hand going to Olivia’s belly. "I’m going to give you a gift worthy of that love." She murmured gently, and suddenly Olivia’s whole world exploded.

She awoke with a start, in a bed that looked as if it had exploded. Blankets and comforters were scattered and piled haphazardly in every direction. She tumbled out of bed awkwardly, rubbing her head. Her dreams had been so vivid. She stepped passed the taller woman adjusting her boots on her way to the toilet.

She bolted back from the toilet and the woman, if she had really been there, was gone.

"What-" She began, and examined the tabletop where Katarina’s things had been haphazardly scattered as Olivia had gone through them. They were gone. Every pack, satchel, bundle of papers, knives, baubles, sacks. Olivia marched to the cabinet and threw open the doors. They were stacked neatly inside.

Olivia let out a breath. A maid had put them away. Surely.