CHAPTER 61
"I suppose this is her idea of 'discrete'." Alayne observed with no small degree of amusement as she watched the carriage pull up to her house from her porch. The carriage door was opened, and a ponderously fat woman eased her bulk onto the street. "Well, for her, I guess it would be." she decided.
She thought about getting up and meeting the woman, but decided against it. Fuck 'em. Let the woman come to her, for a change. A ridiculous, petulant thought she couldn't shake, so she sat on her porch in a simple dress, a glass of brandy next to her, and a tobacco pipe in her hand.
The woman reached the porch, and Alayne tipped her glass at the woman in a sort of salute. "Evening." She called, and the woman twitched as she turned to Alayne.
"Good evening yourself, Alayne." The woman remarked irritably.
"And what brings you to my porch this evening?" Alayne remarked, and the woman frowned at her.
"You know we keep an eye on you, out of necessity." The woman replied. Alayne nodded. "Of course. I was the Lady High Inquisitor. I have a great many secrets locked up inside of my head." She replied sardonically. "Never you fear, they'll stay there." She leaned forward. "But that doesn't explain why the Grand Cardinal finds herself upon my porch this late at night." She stated flatly. "Without guards, attendants or servants."
The woman glanced about suspiciously, looking for eavesdroppers.
Alayne took a swallow of brandy and rolled it around in her mouth before swallowing. "What do you want, Francesca?" She asked in a tired voice. "Despite how I look, I'm actually pretty busy."
The Grand Cardinal glared at her. "The least you could do is remember your civility." She argued, moving to stand closer to the former High Lady.
Alayne thought of several dozen responses, but settled on silence.
"You're no longer the High Lady Inquisitor, but you still have friends, and you've had a number of..." She paused, "Interesting visitors. Enough to draw attention." She replied.
"That's true." Alayne agreed.
"What are you up to?" The Grand Cardinal asked directly.
"I don't see how anything I do is your business at all." Alayne replied, allowing a note of anger to enter her voice.
"It wouldn't be, except-" The Grand Cardinal cut herself off. "Look, Alayne. We were friends, once. Can we not be, again?"
Alayne's eyes hardened. "As far as I'm concerned, you had your chance, and you made your choice." She spat coldly.
"I didn't come here to fight." The Grand Cardinal replied, raising her hands defensively. Alayne counted heartbeats until she hit thirty, and then opened her mouth.
"What do you want, Francesca?" She repeated.
"I want to know what you are doing." The Grand Cardinal repeated.
"Right now?" Alayne asked, and toasted the Grand Cardinal with her glass. "Having a drink. Remembering times past when charges of heresy weren't thrown around for ... political expedience." She spat. "I was doing something else, but then a visitor showed up on my porch."
Somewhere in the yard, crickets began chirping.
"Do we have to argue about that, still?" The Grand Cardinal asked. Alayne glared at her.
"Always. You wanted to levy a charge of heresy ..." She cut herself off before she said it, and changed tracks, "for political reasons. There was no evidence, just half-assed reports from unreliable sources. That's not how the Inquisition works, and you know it." She leveled her finger angrily at the portly woman at this. "And so, in exchange for expunging that order, I gave up my seat as High Lady Inquisitor." She very nearly came close to spitting at the Grand Cardinal's feet in disgust, but restrained herself. "Frankly, if I had the 'friends' you think I have, I would be at the forefront of an inquisitorial investigation into the Book of the Golden Lady." She finished curtly. She idly wondered if the Witch Hunter could hear what was going on, and silently hoped she couldn't.
After a long minute, the Grand Cardinal nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was necessary." She replied simply. "And I would welcome that sort of investigation." She finished.
Alayne gestured meaninglessly with her hand and took a pull from her pipe.
"What are you up to, Alayne?" The Grand Cardinal repeated for a third time.
Alayne sighed. "Fine. An old friend came to me with some fears that needed to be addressed. Discreetly."
"And those fears required the services of two of our clerics, three priestesses, and a wealth of unguents, incense, and tarot?" The Grand Cardinal replied, baffled. Alayne shrugged. "I wanted them to be wholly and completely certain, beyond a shadow's doubt." She didn't mention that those safeguards were for her as well. She needed to be wholly certain of Katarina, most especially because of what had happened in the study.
The Grand Cardinal nodded, and turned to leave.
"A report came in from the docks yesterday." She murmured in a low voice.
"Oh? Good for you." Alayne remarked disinterestedly.
"That Witch Hunter is in Darnell." The Grand Cardinal murmured. "If she should find herself in your path, tell her to be careful." She paused. "If we find her before she finds us, I can't be certain that whoever finds her will be on our side."
She made her way down the basalt walkway, heaved herself into her carriage, and rode away.
"And what will your reaction be, i wonder, when you discover what side she's on, Francesca?" Alayne murmured to herself.
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Alayne headed indoors just as the clerics and priestesses were in the foyer, adjusting their coats.
"You investigated?" Alayne asked pointedly, and they all nodded. "Oh yes, we were quite thorough." One of the priestesses reported excitedly. The others looked to the priestess that spoke up, and made some gesture at her. She nodded, and then they all filed out, leaving her behind with the former leader of the Inquisition of the Golden Lady.
"And? Is she a mutant?" Alayne asked. The priestess clamped her lips shut and shook her head.
"Her body and soul have been extensively... modified, but it's not mutation or magic. It's explicitly clear it was the Golden Lady. For what purpose..." The woman trailed off. "You'll handle the official notification?" She asked Alayne, eyes intent, the silence between them pregnant with hidden meaning and palpable urgency.
The former Inquisitor broke the priestesses' gaze with a casual scratch to the side of her nose, and gave her a baffled look. "I've no authority in the Church anymore." She replied wanly, spreading her hands disarmingly. "Go ahead and submit your reports in the usual way."
The priestess gave her a confused look. "Forgive my ... impertinence, or if I'm overstepping my-" She began, but Alayne stepped closer, into the woman's personal space. She knew what she was doing. Her gaze grew sharper, face demanding.
"Submit your reports in the usual way." She repeated. Submitting the reports of examination would effectively bury them in ignorance. There were hundreds of thousands of examinations performed on any given day across the empire, the reports submitted, filed, and subsequently ignored. After all, if someone were identified with a mutation, whatever decision rendered at the time would be handled on the spot, regardless if it were amputation or euthanasia, and if someone were declared clean, no further action would need to be taken.
It was possible that someone performing an audit on the records could turn it up, but Alayne was wagering on the ponderous machinery of bureaucracy to keep Katarina out from under the scrupulous eye. She could just guess what the Witch Hunter would say.
The priestess faltered under the older woman's burning gaze. "As- as you say, Lady Caine." She replied, cowering a little. Alayne nodded, and turned to the side, allowing the young woman the freedom to flee, and flee she did, hustling just as quick as her little legs could carry her.
As Alayne moved into the central hall, she was intercepted by a slightly disheveled Sawyer, who was adjusting her dress. Her apron was askew, one of her buttons was fastened in the wrong hole, her cap was askew and her hose was torn.
Alayne eyed the girl with an amused eye. Sawyer had been part of a clandestine Anglish order called 'The Madonnas' that Alayne had accidentally rooted out while investigating a sorcerous cult in Blackwall. She'd very nearly killed the girl until she understood the nature of the order's objectives, which revolved around infiltration, espionage, and on occasion, assassination. The sorcerous cult hadn't even been detected at all until the secretive order had pushed them into the public spectacle, and thus under Alayne's gaze.
After that mission, Alayne had kept Sawyer and her 'Madonnas' on retainer, ostensibly as maids.
"Trouble?" Alayne asked, and Sawer flashed her a look.
"That woman has ten arms and fifty hands." She complained with a roll of her eyes. "And those arms are like steel bars."
"Is she that impassioned?" Alayne asked, and Sawyer shook her head. "I don't think it was wholly from desire." She reported, fixing her apron ties. "I was just something to cling to when they were finished."
Alayne raised an eyebrow at that. "Is she still awake?" She asked, and Sawyer shook her head, her twin braids flipping off of her shoulders. "If she were awake, you think I'd be able to escape?" She asked sardonically. "She's asleep. More like passed out from exhaustion. Poor girl is wound up."
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"She's older than you are, you know." Alayne replied with a small smile. "By about six or so years."
Sawyer shook her head. "She doesn't look it." Alayne shrugged at this sally. "She downstairs?" She asked the maid, who nodded.
"Um, Mistress..." Sawyer began delicately. Alayne looked to the young girl.
"The study..." She trailed off.
"Nothing can be done about that." Alayne decided heavily. "Clean up what you can. It's really all we can do." She added, and Sawyer nodded.
"I have another job for you." Alayne began, stressing the word so that Sawyer would understand. She always did. "It means more blood on my hands, but it has to be done." She stressed. "I'm practically drowning in the blood I've spilled to keep the Empire churning on, and I have no idea how the Goddess will regard my soul when I am at last brought before her feet."
Sawyer simply straightened her cuffs, awaiting her orders. Whatever Alyne wanted, she'd be ready.
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The lower rooms of Alayne's estate were carved out of the stone that formed the bones of the cliffs that had soared over the ocean before the Anglish had carved them up. Alayne had the first level of lower rooms paneled in light, warm-toned ash heartwood, and covered in rich tapestries and thick rugs, creating a comfortable, cozy atmosphere. Katarina lay on a low divan on the far side of the room, half-covered by her gigantic coat.
There should have been no way for her to hear Alayne's approach, but the moment that Alayne stepped into the room, Katarina opened her eyes and focused on the older woman.
"How'd you know I was here?" Alayne wondered as she poured herself a glass of wine.
"I wasn't asleep, just listening to my heartbeat." Katarina explained simply while stretching like a cat and sitting up.
Alayne eyed the Witch Hunter critically. "You should know better than to foist an obvious lie off on me." She growled.
If Katarina took any offense there was no sign, she simply arched an eyebrow.
"I've spent ten years of my life in the woods. You have to know what's going on around you if you expect to survive." She offered. Alayne rolled her eyes at this sally.
"Not much different from here, then." Alayne replied. "If you don't know what's going on around you, you'll get chewed up and spit out." She gestured at Katarina. "Put your tits away, Witch Hunter." She commanded, and then gestured to the bundle near the fire. "Your clothes are over there."
As Katarina dressed, Alayne laid out the situation.
"There's at least one person on the Book of the Golden Lady that will actively oppose you getting any sort of accolades. My guess is you pissed them off in some way. They're the ones who put forward that bullshit charge."
Katarina shrugged indifferently. "I have no idea who is on the Book of the Golden Lady." Katarina offered by way of explanation. "And I don't care at all for accolades."
"Six Lady Cardinals and the Grand Cardinal Herself." Alayne replied dryly. Katarina would have known that already. Katarina made an obscene gesture indifferently at the former High Lady Inquisitor, sarcasm for sarcasm.
"Yuriko Hasegawa, Gabrielle Valentine, Phoebe Capulet, Olivia Wolfe, Celeste Montague, and Constance Comment, Lady Cardinals, all." Alayne replied.
"And the Grand Cardinal." Katarina added, and Alayne nodded.
"And the Grand Cardinal." She confirmed.
Katarina appeared thoughtful for a minute. "Probably Phoebe." She guessed.
Alayne frowned at that. "Why her?" She asked.
"You're the Inquisitor." Katarina mocked lightly, standing up and hoisting her pants over her hips. "Think, and you'll understand." Katarina replied ambiguously, and then explained anyway. "Devon Capulet." She added.
Alayne nodded at that. He'd been the first Witch Katarina had killed. A man from a noble house with a proud lineage, and he had been a foul manipulator of the mind. "You might have allies in the Book, or at the very least, sympathizers," Alayne offered, "Though I suspect the rest are largely neutral. Why should the Book of the Golden Lady, the highest authority care about what happens with one single Witch Hunter?" Alayne asked rhetorically. "Though since someone on that council saw fit to accuse you of heresy... there it is."
Katarina nodded as she slipped on her vest and negotiated the hooks.
"If your goal is truly to get your authorities current, then I suggest you do so as discreetly as possible. Don't attract undue attention. Get in and out of Darnell as quickly as you can."
Katarina nodded at that, adjusting her gunbelts. "That'll take some work." Katarina objected. "Every time I've come to Darnell, regardless of how discreet I am, I'm invariably roped into one thing or another."
"Well, double down!" Alayne encouraged angrily. "Wear a dress! Stop walking and talking like a blasted man, for the Golden Lady's sake! You're a noblewoman, which is something these people may have forgotten! That's an important tool you can use!"
Suddenly, Katarina's eyes glazed over, as if she were lost in thought, and then it happened again, like in the study: A halo of warm sunlight flickered over her head for the briefest of moments. Her whole body seemed effulgent, aglow with power. Her head rolled back limply, her back arched, and she rose off of the floor an inch or two.
Alayne's heart thundered in her chest, and she froze, paralyzed by the sight. She couldn't move. She didn't dare move. Anything could happen. Anything at all. Her steward, a man she had explicitly trusted for more years than Katarina had been alive, had tried to touch her when she was like this before. He'd taken no more than two steps towards her when everything, skin, flesh, visceral tissues, everything simply exploded off his skeleton, turning her study into an abattoir. Threads of what looked to be lightning crawled over Katarina's body, then, and a voice, different from Katarina's, had come from her lips. Commanding, demanding in a voice like growling thunder, "You do not touch her."
So Alayne froze, terror turning her blood to ice. Five decades in service to the Grand Church, unflinching despite every blasphemy, every soulless, screaming horror, hideous demon, howling undead, every disgusting, horrifying, revolting and soul-crushing event she had witnessed, she had been impassive as a boulder. She had allowed the fear to flow through her, allowed it to pass over, leaving her cool and unruffled.
This was different. This was righteous terror. The sacred light of the Goddess was blazing fitfully out of Katarina. This was rapturous. Tears coursed down her face; she couldn't help it. It was beautiful, Katarina was beautiful. The lamps and the fireplace were dim in comparison. The room was resplendent in golden light.
"It is only with the fullness of time that Inanna's mysteries are revealed." a voice escaped Katarina's lips, like hers, but not. It reverberated with the light, glorious with authority. "The time has not yet become irrevocable, Lady Caine."
Katarina's feet touched the carpet, the light dimmed and flickered out. Katarina seemed to come out of her ... trance, whatever it was, and hunched over, clutching at her chest, just below her breastbone. Alayne could see her jaws were clenched, sweat standing out on Katarina's forehead in great drops.
"I-" Katarina began, and panted. "I still have things to do." She muttered under her breath tightly. "Not- not yet. Things to do. Back. Down. Not yet. Calm down." She grimaced with effort; and then, almost as if seeing Alayne for the first time, Katarina straightened imperceptibly, shifting her posture. If Alayne hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have guessed at what lay fitfully sleeping in Katarina's breast. A beatific, holy power, rarely seen, and even more rarely felt. It was trying to burst out, express itself, and yet bizarrely, bafflingly, Katarina was holding that celestial power back with the force of will alone.
"You're-" Katarina began, and then paused, a baffled expression on her face. "I didn't-" She tried again. "You-" She stopped, and took a breath. "I'm not gonna wear a fuckin' dress." She swore spitefully.
Katarina's earlier bafflement gave Alayne precious moments to force her face to stillness, to assume the calm surety of an Inquisitor. Whatever it was she experienced, she forced herself to mentally cram it into a box and slam the lid. She'd deal with that later. Along with the study. She gave Katarina a hard, skeptical look.
"You stand out in trousers, and that hat and coat. You're gonna get caught, you're not careful." She warned.
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A middle-aged man in rumpled gray robes slipped into the High Court discreetly, one of the guards moving to intercept him.
"Guardswoman, stand down." The Grand Cardinal ordered just as Lady Cardinal Celeste spoke up.
"This is a closed session, Petitioner. We will not be hearing your case today."
"Nonsense, Lady Cardinal." The Grand Cardinal replied dismissively. "We will hear his report."
The Lady Cardinal gave the Grand Cardinal a look of confusion, but settled down in her seat.
"Ladies of the Book of the Golden Lady, have you met Brother Lambert?" the Grand Cardinal suddenly spoke up.
The women glanced at each other, and shook their heads silently and frowned at the short man in the thick gray robes. "I cannot say I've had the pleasure." Lady Cardinal Olivia remarked.
"Brother Lambert is one of the members of the investigatory council among the Cultus Sancte." The Grand Cardinal replied, and then gestured. "When I learned of an investigation being undertaken by the Cultus by Yuriko, I asked him here to hear his report."
Lambert smiled thinly.
"If you do not know of the Cultus Sancte," he began self-deprecatingly, and made a small gesture, "then it is our failing, and not yours." He added.
"We curate the largest repository of knowledge of those individuals of the Empire has declared to be people of note. People of such rare and valuable distinction and caliber that stand out and deserve recording in the histories of the Empire." He explained, puffed up with a faint smugness. He withdrew a scrollcase from a satchel at his waist and opened it, letting the scroll slide into his hands. "One of our lesser but no less important responsibilities is to investigate, and under certain circumstances, see if those persons have fulfilled the obligation for veneration."
"Ven-" Gabrielle jolted. He nodded, unrolling the scroll.
"Grand Cardinal, it is the verdict of the Cultus Sancti that the Justicar Witch Hunter known as Katarina lon Pavlenko has cleared the conditions for both 'Servant of the Goddess' and 'Venerable'." He stated firmly. "There is both overwhelming and incontrovertible evidence that she has lived a life of heroic virtue." His mouth twisted. "It is unbelievable that such a person has gone as unnoticed as long as she has. It shames us all." He lamented. "Of course, it will have to be seen after she passes whether or not she will be considered eligible for elevation to sainthood."
Gabrielle wasn't aware that her mouth had dropped open in shock at this simply spoken, but bold statement. Olivia covered her mouth discretely, but her wide eyes betrayed her expression. Lady Yuriko folded her hands on the desk in front of her and compressed her lips. Phoebe looked baffled, the only reaction Lady Constance had was a widening of her eyes.
Celeste, however, was furious. She sneered at the Grand Cardinal. "I had wondered what sort of hand you would play." She accused. "This was your doing."
The Grand Cardinal shook her head. "I did not participate in this." She replied truthfully. Yuriko nodded. "I remind you that it was I who opened the investigation." She replied coolly.
Celestes' head whipped around in shock. "What?" She demanded angrily. Yuriko nodded.
"There were confirmed reports of her resurrection after being confirmed dead in Aston." Yuriko replied testily. "An essential port of call for the Yamato. It's only logical that I request investigations into such activities." She replied simply.
Celeste grimaced. "I hadn't expected this of you." she snarled coldly. She flashed a look of pure hatred at the slim woman. "Why should you care about that heretic?"
Yuriko gave her a patronizing look. "It could be said that I have an interest in the affairs of Aston." She replied, "as it was developed as a trading port for the Yamato." she repeated, continuing, "So hearing a report revolving around the confirmed death and resurrection of a highly respected and decorated Justicar Witch Hunter, my response was appropriate." She added dismissively.
Lady Celeste's mouth opened and closed like a fish, utterly speechless. She struggled for reason; after all it wasn't the Cultus Sancti who beatified someone, it was only after each member of the Book of the Golden Lady had independently reviewed the reports the Cultus had assembled and cast their votes that someone could become beatified, and the vote had to be unanimous.
Regardless of the evidence, Celeste was going to vote 'nay'. She'd never met the unconscionable savage, but she hated the bitch with a passion. Celeste didn't care at all for anything that happened on this savage continent of Hesperia, rather she cared wholeheartedly for the more urbane and civilized lands of Rothgar, with cities teeming with the genteel erudite. As far as she was concerned, Katarina Pavlenko was some giggling bumpkin bearing the slick veneer of what passed for civilization this side of the Mirras Sea that continuously provoked ridiculous amounts of discussion and speculations among the clergy.
Still, the ignorant savage was naught but an irritation, and so when the time came to swat the insect, she'd indifferently posed the idea of arresting the woman under a moral charge, convicted in her belief that the system would crush the obnoxious twit effortlessly.
Instead that hard-eyed Lady Inquisitor had laughingly destroyed the charges of heresy she'd put forward. She wasn't laughing anymore, Celeste thought grimly.