CHAPTER 110
Katarina's group consisted of a handful of archers, a pikeman she continued to address as 'captain', her paladin apprentice, and herself. The pikeman's fiends were off looting supplies to burn what remained of the abomination to ash; abominations were a blight to the world and neither the Golden Lady nor her representative Katarina could countenance their existence.
"Why the random burning?" Katarina asked the pikeman. She pointed out several perfectly usable buildings clustered around one charred tumble of ash and charcoal.
"Our choice." The pikeman replied. "Or, our strategy, really." he amended. "Lead a number of mutants or beastmen inside, set the place on fire, keep them from getting out, and let the fire and smoke do the rest." He paused. "We’re on our own out here. The Church won’t let us back in. The monsters won’t let us leave. We have to make do with what we can."
"It’s just you?" Armilla asked, and the pikeman shrugged. "The lumberjacks helped as best they could for a while. Gretta had them help hold the line, but..." He trailed off.
"Getta!" Katarina exclaimed, remembering the inquisitor that’d hidden herself as the lumberjack’s foreman and madam of their brothel. "Is she-" She trailed off.
"As far as I know, they’re all dead." The pikeman mentioned. "Harpies from the forest did for them; set the saloon on fire." He reported. "The ‘jacks tried to put up a fight, but when all you’ve got are axes and your foe can just fly away..." he trailed off.
"You did for the harpies, I take it?" Katarina asked, and the pikeman hesitated.
"No, Your Grace." he admitted. "There’s only six of us, myself included." He paused, struggling with his words. "We... we have to pick our fights. Five archers, limited arrows..." He shrugged. "I’m sorry, Your Grace."
Katarina nodded. "It’s important to pick your fights carefully. I understand that." She admitted. "Do you know how many harpies there are?"
He made a meaningless gesture. "They look alike; ugly and horrid." He described. "I think there’s maybe a dozen. Maybe more."
A muffled thump and rattle came from a nearby building; Katarina, Armilla and the pikeman exchanged glances. Katarina checked the loads on her gun, then pointed at herself, then to the door, pointed at Armilla and the ground, then pointed at the captain and mimed pulling the door open. The pikeman would open the door for Armilla, Katarina would add her firepower to Armilla’s should anything come out.
The pikeman pressed himself against the wall opposite Katarina, bracketing the door. He reached out and tugged open the latch as Armilla settled her footing and socked the butt of her shotgun into the crook of her shoulder. She nodded, and the pikeman yanked the door open.
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A corpse tumbled out, half-eaten and rotting. It was impossible to tell the gender, or even the type of clothing it wore.
Armilla saw it first; something shambled into view and she immediately opened fire. It stepped out into the light of day and Katarina struggled with her gorge as the things fetid stink washed over her. The pikeman vomited noisily. Armilla pumped two more shots into the thing as it chambled out of the building, dragging a rotting limb in one hand.
Katarina had killed things like this before. They had a thick, rubbery hide that was slug-belly white, with the faintest of green tinge. Not quite dead, not quite living, some strange state in-between, a ghoul was once a human but had feasted on the dead flesh of other people and had been changed by the experience. The thing trembled, its mouth a discolored mass of tumbled teeth, its eyes sunken horrors in a mass of bruised-looking tissues. It’d taken three shotgun blasts to the body, but didn’t feel them. The wounds looked like garish flowers, barely seeping a sluggish black ichor.
The thing groaned, and as Armilla took an uncertain step backwards, the ghoul hurled the rotting limb it had been feeding on at her. She yelped and tried to dodge, but tripped over her own feet and landed on her ass. The ghoul lunged forward towards her, Katarina fired her gun rapidly, fanning the hammer with her other hand.
Three bullets stitched into the ghoul; one through the middle of its back, one through the shoulder, and one through the back of its head. The effects were catastrophic; the first shot shattering the vertebral column and paralyzing the ghoul from the waist down. As it began to fall, the second shot took it through the shoulderblade, sending slivers and shards of bone careening through the chest cavity and the delicate organs protected by the ribcage. The third bullet punched through the back of the skull, flattening and tumbling, blowing out an exit wound in its face the size of Katarina’s fist, spattering her apprentice with sticky black blood and chunks of brain. Armilla cried out in disgust.
Katarina reloaded, and peeked inside the house as the ghoul collapsed. Nothing seemed to be stirring, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go in there. It was dark, shadowy, and there were mounded humps on the floor, indistinguishable in the gloom.
"Oh- oh Goddess this is so gross." Armilla complained, trying to wipe off the gore she was splattered with. "It’s in my hair!" She complained.
Katarina ducked around the door to the pikeman, who was still heaving his guts out at the stench.
"You gonna be alright, Captain?" She asked, patting him sympathetically on the back. He retched and coughed, shaking his head. In truth, it was perfectly normal to react that way; the smell did not so much as waft up into the nostrils as punch its way in, raping the delicate tissues with its rancid stench. Katarina was able to withstand the horrible miasma only through willpower and experience.
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Katarina considered her options as she reloaded: She could use Galatine and summon a bounded field of protection for Armilla and the pikeman; the problem was that the field would set buildings on both sides of the street ablaze. She could create a circle of healing like she’d done a year ago in Ardeal, but the horrid smell was just noxious, not harmful except for the vomiting. She had no way to restore them to fighting capacity beyond simple encouragement. Wait. That was it.
"Halo." She muttered, and a thin ring of light sprang into existence just above her head. She turned to Armilla who was scrubbing her face vigorously with a handkerchief.
Katarina seized Galatine’s grip and eyed the two of them. "Come on; both of you," she commanded, and they struggled to their feet obediently. Originally, Galatine had been the Mandate of Command, a scepter that, when held, allowed the user to command anyone capable of understanding her. That was how she’d held the creature that had masqueraded as the Lady Cardinal; she’d commanded the thing to accept judgement. Later, the scepter had been reforged into the sun sword Galatine, but it had kept its original properties.
"For the Goddess’ sake, ignore the smell and focus your determination. We’re going inside." She commanded, and released her grip on the sword.
They followed Katarina inside, her halo illuminating the indistinct mounds as rotting corpses. They moved from room to room, opening windows and throwing open shutters, banishing the gloom and allowing the rancid, stale air to blow out as the breeze picked up. Whole families had died here, and been devoured by the ghoul.
"The crematorium will be working night and day for months." Armilla muttered as she surveyed the rooms.
"Assuming there’s anyone left in town to do so." Katarina replied. "The town is overrun, this building has been tainted by the unconsecrated dead." She muttered. "No proper funerary rites to commend their souls to the Goddess." Each statement was spat with growing fury; a denouncement of the laxity and corruption of the church.
"Come on." She commanded to her compatriots. "Daylight’s wasting. We’re going to the Church, and the Void can take anyone or anything that stands in our way."
As they moved down the street, Katarina could hear a strange scratching sound, as if something was scraping on wood. The sound was accompanied by the click and rattle of old bones, a sound she knew well- the sound of animated skeletons. Katarina hurried forward; Armilla moving to her side and raising her gun.
As they cleared the street, the mayor’s house came into view, and Katarina could see the source of the noise. Three skeletons scratched at a tree, their efforts tearing away the bark. Hidden in the branches was a pair of children who clutched each other with strength born from fear.
Armilla raised her gun and pulled the trigger eliciting a dry and sterile click. Katarina whiled on the paladin. "Always count your shots!" She screamed in fury.
Katarina didn’t hesitate; she drew Galatine and thrust it overhead. Immediately a stylized sun seared itself in the ground in a circle around the three, and a small sun bloomed in the sky overhead.
"Come and test yourself against the Light of the Dawn!" She challenged the skeletons, who immediately rushed with frightful speed towards them Armilla yelled in complaint as she was thumbing shells into her gun, the pikeman goggled in fear and awe at Katarina's power.
As the skeletons passed the boundary of the sun-circle they burst into flame; as they crossed the boundary of Katarina’s smaller antimagic field their power whiffed out, and they collapsed into their constituent bones.
Katarina toed the smoldering bones with the tip of her boot, and holstered her gun. She turned with grace and speed and brought her bare hand in a brutal slap that rocked the paladin’s head back and knocked her off her feet.
"Stupid girl." She accused angrily. "You should be dead by now. Always count your shots. Always be ready for anything. You’re supposed to be the vengeful striking sword of the Golden Lady!"
Armilla could only gape at her. "I- I hadn’t, I didn’t-" She began, and Katarina slapped her again. "How many times must I say that the town has been overrun? This may be Norn, but this is enemy territory! There is no light of succor and safety except that which we bring!" She threw up her hands in contempt and exasperation, and then sheathed her sword angrily, which caused the miniature sun to vanish, along with its circle.
She took several breaths to calm herself, after which her halo faded and blinked out. "Let’s get these kids out of the tree." she muttered, and raked a hot glare over Armilla, silently telling her that it was her job to do so.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
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A growing fury was beating in Katarina’s breast. Where was the full strength of the militia? Where were the Wardens? Where was Ranger Dillon? Why hadn’t the church dispatched its forces? Why hadn’t they requested help? The frustration from lack of answers to these basic questions was threatening to overwhelm her.
The cobbled streets leading to the church were filled with sooty mud, tree branches here and there, and the dead. It was obvious from the tracks that beastmen had charged in, grabbed people from their homes, dragged them out into the street and killed them. Some of the bodies looked gnawed upon.
Many of the houses had their doors torn off and their windows thrown open, they had the vacant sense of being long since ransacked.
The gate to the church grounds was latched, and locked this time as well. Katarina indifferently interposed her blade between the two wrought-iron gates and twisted; the latch snapped with a brittle crack, making the two kids jump and cower behind the pikeman. Katarina marched up to the doors and tried the handles; they were locked.
"In the name of the Golden Lady, open up!" She shouted hotly, and then tugged on the doorhandles again. It stood to reason they were barricaded; it was a reasonable choice. Still, she wanted inside, and she was determined to get her way. She took a few breaths and settled her stance. Closing her eyes, she reached inside and focused her will, gathering her strength. She jerked on the heavy doorhandles and they snapped off in her hands, causing her to nearly lose her balance. She staggered backward and nearly fell over, were it not for Armilla.
Katarina ran through a mental list of the abilities she’d earned but she was reluctant to use her Goddess-granted powers against the church. Church grounds were sanctified, sacred places, consecrated in Her holy name. Calling down Glory to blast the doors open felt wrong to her, somehow.
"Well, we tried yelling and opening the doors and that didn’t work," she remarked to Armilla. "What do you think? Should I knock?"
The paladin gave her a bewildered look, and Katarina sighed. Cyrillus was right: no imagination. No sense of humor. Katarina spun around, pivoting from the hip, bringing her leg around in a graceful arc. The pikeman whistled appreciatively. The impact rattled the doors, dirt sifted down. She spun around and again her foot lashed out, and the thick door groaned with the impact, and a chunk of wood spun away from the point of impact.
Katarina peeked into the hole and jerked back as a spear lanced through where her face had been a heartbeat before. The pikeman cursed, the kids cried out in shock.
As the spear withdrew, Katarina grabbed it just behind the spearpoint and yanked; whoever held the spear was jerked forward to slam against the inside.
"I said, ‘let me in’." Katarina warned, and pulled the spear the rest of the way through the hole and tossed it aside.
She pressed against the doors; there was a little give, as if they hit a barricade. Katarina dug in her heels and shoved against the door; there was a wicked squeal inside as wood scraped against stone. The doors opened a little bit.
"Open these doors in the name of the Goddess or I swear by Her sacred name I will tear them down!" She shouted into the space between the doors. There was a babble of voices from the other side; Katarina took that as encouragement and once again heaved with all her strength. Once again there was a squeal of tortured wood scraping on stone, and the doors opened wider.
There were a few frantic yells of alarm from the other side; Katarina sagged against the door, and wiped her sweaty face with her sleeve.
"Fuck this is tortuous." she complained to Armilla and the pikeman, who nodded at her wordlessly.
She let out a huge breath and sucked in another, she gripped the hilt of Galatine and shouted into the church, "I command you to open this fucking door!"
Suddenly there was a clatter of wood on wood and wood on stone; the door opened so easily Katarina nearly fell over a second time.
"Finally." She muttered, and stepped inside. The barricade had been made by stacking the pews on top of each other, now they lay scattered around the door like cordwood.
"Why is the Militia not taking back the town?!" She yelled furiously. "Why are the clerics huddled in here like sheep, cowering amongst the shopkeepers and farmers?!" She shouted. She fired her gun into the ceiling, and people screamed. "I want answers now, or I will bring the Lady’s Mercy upon everyone here!"
The dried up pastor she’d met in her previous visit to the town came down the aisle shakily.
"Who are you to demand anything from us?" He queried tremulously. "You’re just a powerless Witch Hunter with no authority to demand anything of anyone."
Armilla stepped up. "You speak to Her Radiance Saint Katarina the Blessed, pastor." She announced angrily. Katarina figured she’d stop there, but she kept going. "Wielder of the legendary sword Galatine, she carries the legacy of Celestine on her heart and in her hand."
The pastor stepped forward, and eyed Katarina. "You?" He snorted. "Preposterous."
She displayed her sword, and shrugged off her coat. He eyed the sword, and turned to look at one of the stained-glass windows where Celestine was picked out in all her radiant glory.
"By the Goddess." He breathed.
Katarina grabbed the older man by the front of his robes and yanked him forward and up so that he was eye-to-eye with her.
"Answer my questions, you dried up little shit." She demanded and tossed him back so that he fell on his ass. She gripped the hilt of Galatine, but released it a moment later. She could command him to reveal his perfidy and he would do it, but she was angry and longed for a direction to vent that anger. She would chase him through the brambles of his lies relentlessly.
"Why did you not order the militia to defend the town?" She demanded.
"Because I learned about the attack too late." He spat back. "There was no time to organize a proper defense."
"Bullshit. Ranger Dillon should have given a comprehensive report a year ago." She rapped back smartly. "Why didn’t you send word of the assault to Aston or Darnell?" She asked, and eyed the church with her auravision.
"Our mages ran away." The old man argued, and Katarina laughed and pointed to the mages she could see in the dim lighting of the church. "You think a Witch Hunter cannot see a mage? You’re lying." She accused.
"Why did you have the militia assemble here, instead of hunting down the blasphemous things that crawl through this city?" She demanded. "You should have had plenty of forces to repel them."
"Bullshit!" The pastor yelled. "I had to do what was right, and protect these people!"
Katarina gestured to the two children that hung back with the pikeman. "Tell that to these kids." She condemned.
"Not everyone made it to the church in time." The pastor argued. "It’s not my fault."
"You’re supposed to watch over the people as a shepherd watches over the flock. Where is your faith in the Defender, old man? Where is your learning from the Teacher? Where is your Healer’s compassion?" She argued heatedly.
"I- I tried!" The old man yelled. "I wanted to do what was right, so I did what I could to protect those that I could."
"Why did you requisition six fishing boats from Darnell?" Katarina asked, and the old pastor gulped noisily.
"You-" He began, but Katarina drew Galatine and grounded the point of the sword on the stone floor in front of him.
"Tell me." She commanded.
He made strange gobbling noises, and grabbed at his throat. He wanted to lie, she would not let him.
"I command you in the name of Inanna, The Goddess of the Dawn, the Light of Truth, the Glory of Heavens to speak the truth." She stated coldly. "Now answer me again: Why did you not order the militia to defend the town?"
He gasped and tears squeezed out of his eyes. "Because- because Selma, Davis and Jordan wanted to use the confusion to .... take everything valuable from the town." He panted, sweat and tears trickling down his face.
"Why didn’t you send word to Aston or Darnell that you were under attack?" She repeated.
"I thought that..." he gestured meaninglessly. "I thought that eventually they would just go away."
"And?" Katarina asked.
"...and because an astute outsider could have easily seen what we were doing."
"The boats?" She prompted.
"...to hide what we took. We couldn’t keep it in the church any longer. There was too much to hide in the storerooms and cellars. Someone would have seen."
A low wave of angry voices muttering imprecations against the pastor washed over them from the townsfolk. The short, pudgy mayor that Katarina had met before clenched and unclenched his fists angrily.
"All right." Katarina replied, her voice lightening. "For the crimes of heresy against the Goddess, I sentence you and your conspirators to die."
There was a wave of gasps at this proclamation from the assembled people, but Katarina wasn’t finished.
"For the crimes of embezzlement and treachery against the Church of the Golden Lady, I sentence you and your conspirators to die."
The wave of angry agreement this time was louder and stronger.
"For the crimes of theft and betrayal of the people of Norn, the willful indulgences and corruption that you’ve wrought against the people of this city, I sentence you and your conspirators to die." She condemned, pitching her voice over the din of anger.
She lifted the sword and pressed it against her heart.
"The left hand is the hand of the heart. The hand of passion. The hand of love." She stated. "I command everyone in this church to stand on the left side." she ordered, and everyone dutifully crowded against the left side of the church. Bemusedly, she watched Armilla and the pikeman- what was his name again?- obey as well.
"Those of you who have willingly committed treason against this city, against the church, and against the Goddess, I command you to move to the right side of the church."
After a moment, a number of people, the pastor included, left the press of people on the left side of the church and shifted over to the right. Most of the clergy, several Sanctioned mages, and two of the militia leaned against the right wall of the church.
"By the Goddess." Katarina breathed. Would she have to kill so many?
"I name you Condemned." Katarina declared. "I command you to not move from that spot." She turned to the rest of the survivors, militia, and clergy.
"I want the militia in full gear. You’ve got two minutes. Those of you who are proficient with healing and rebuking, I want you ready. We’re taking back this town. Those of you who can carry a weapon and aren’t afraid of the terror by day or the darkness of night, you’ve got five minutes to gather what you can as weapons."
A young girl stepped up to her.
"Yes, what is it?" Katarina asked curiously. Did this little girl want to fight for her town? Katarina prepared a gentle rebuke in her mind.
"Are you really a Saint?" She asked curiously. Katarina nodded.
"Can I touch you?" She asked shyly.
Katarina squatted down to her level, and touched the girl’s face. "I don’t mind. Would you like me to bless you in the name of the Goddess?" She asked quietly. The girl nodded. "Then be blessed in the name of the Golden Lady. Be a teacher to the unknowing, kind to the weak, and a defender to those that cannot stand up for themselves." She said, and smiled at the little girl. I wonder how my child will look. Will she take after me, or Olivia? She wondered.
She was still smiling five minutes later, when everything was more or less to her satisfaction. She divided the militia into five companies, and attached a mage and a handful of priests to each company.
"I don’t have any strategies except this: Cleanse in her name. Fouled dead, mutants, beastmen, mages, abominations, Kill everything. Go room to room, house to house, building to building. Sweep and clear." She turned to the shopkeepers, lumberjacks, and farmers that were armed with a spear here, a sword there, and armored with a bit of boiled leather or boarwood.
"I don’t intend for you to fight, not directly, though I won’t deny it may come to that. Your jobs will be to haul all the bodies from this cleansing to the central green in the middle of town. While the town is retaken, you will burn every body found."
She pointed to the company the captain joined. "Armilla and I will be with this company. Everyone, move out!"
The fight to retake the city was short-lived. It seemed as though the stores and shops had been ransacked by the beastmen and mutants and then simply abandoned. The only things that remained were a few mutants.
There were plenty of deaths to account for, too. Hundreds had been killed, many brutally savaged. Katarina ordered those bodies burned after a ritual cleansing.