Chapter 28

The chaplain was a grizzled man a full foot shorter than her. His face and head was seamed with scars and his hair stuck up in bizarre clumps. He moved with a limp and spoke gruffly. Katarina liked him immediately.

"Witch Hunter?" he immediately asked, glancing at her askew. Katarina nodded. "Thought as much." He replied. "I can always tell a Witch Hunter." He added, and settled himself against his desk, which was small without ornamentation, like the tiny chapel.

"My gun isn’t behaving." Katarina replied by way of introduction. "Your gunpriest acolyte says the problem isn’t mechanical; that there might be a problem beyond."

He gave her a confused, baffled look. "Hmm. I don’t much know about guns." He replied. "I know a bit about Witch Hunters, though." he tipped her a wink. "Been followin’ your exploits off an’ on."

"Exploits?" She asked curiously, and he nodded. "Oh, aye." He replied simply. "There aren’t many Witch Hunters on this continent. Tongues wag." He added with a shrug, and then clapped his hands together abruptly.

"Here’s what I know of Witch Hunters." He began, and ticked off the relevant facts on his fingers.

"One, you can see and smell magic." He added a finger. "Two, you have a bond with your gun." He added another blunt finger. "Three, you have a magical resistance that over time expresses out from you, cancelling magic in every direction."

Katarina nodded simply. "Yes, that’s right."

He gestured at the gun, and Katarina removed the shells and handed it over. He frowned down at it as he ran his hands down the barrels, fingers sliding on the stock and over the trigger guard.

"I’m going to need to meditate on this." He murmured after a while. "I’m not familiar enough with guns to give you an immediate answer."

Katarina nodded reluctantly. "I’m loath to leave it here." She replied. "I- I can’t think of a time when I’ve been without it." She finished.

"What, feeling naked without it?" He chided knowingly. "Well, if you’ve got errands to run, go and run them. If you absolutely cannot bear to part with it, then you can stay here. Meditate, pray, whatever. No eatin’ or drinkin’. You’re on a food ban until I get this figured out." He added, levelling a finger at her.

"I have errands." She replied shortly.

"Great. Off with you, then. Do what you have to. Remember, though: no food nor drink. That means ale too." he added. Katarina made an obscene gesture at him, and he gave her a half-smile. "Not while I’m working. Maybe tonight, after lights out?" He offered, and Katarina burst into laughter.

"I suspect the Diviner would be upset if I didn’t join her for dinner." Katarina replied. He nodded.

"So send an acolyte to run your errands." he replied dismissively. Katarina shook her head. "I wouldn’t trust them with the errands I need to run." She replied simply.

"Then go." He stressed, and Katarina nodded slowly. "All right." She gestured at the statue of the Golden Defender. "I’ll take some time to pray." She added, and he nodded, and disappeared into a back room of the chapel.

===$$$===

Half an hour later, she strode from the gunpriests’ room into the central spire and happened to see the acolyte she’d run into the day previous. Katarina noted he was sitting next to one of the girls from the choir from yesterday. He gave her a long and scrutinizing look from his seat, no doubt remembering the contents of the letter he’d helped himself to reading yesterday. The choir girl followed his gaze, and eyed Katarina speculatively, eyes flicking to the acolyte.

Well, he was an acolyte and that meant she had every right to order him around, as her authority superseded his. In some instances it was encouraged, where higher-ranking personnel would order the acolytes about. It was supposed to encourage humility.

She ran through a mental checklist of all the things she would need to get: feed for her horse, a new rope, the sewing and leatherworking kits, and a new hatchet, after which she would return to the church and seek out the woman Araya had mentioned. Her rueful smile turned predatory, and she approached the young acolyte.

"Go fetch my horse and have it brought around front." She demanded imperiously, pointing towards the door she’d come in yesterday. "I’m heading into town today and you’re going to accompany me."

His mouth was already twisted into a tight wire of disapproval at the sight of her, it twisted even more at this sally from her. Katarina, trained to be observant and note detail, caught his eyes dipping to her chest for a moment, when he thought he wasn't being observed.

"I don’t think you realize my position here, Witch Hunter. I’m not your servant, you know. Neither am I your stableboy." He sneered at her.

The girl he was with rose to her feet quickly, anger marring her pretty face. "Here now, you can’t just interrupt our conversation!" She argued hotly, glaring up at the Witch Hunter.

Katarina eyed them both, brow raised in contemplation. Why were they so hostile to her? She shrugged mentally; it was irrelevant.

"You know, as long as you continue this overwhelming arrogance, you will continue to be whatever I want you to be." She remarked to him patiently with an amused smile. "My authority supersedes yours, acolyte. Where is your obedience? Your humility?" She asked curiously, and then waved it away. "Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re going to accompany me into town today."

"I don’t think so." He objected. "I have responsibilities to attend to."

Katarina nodded and indicated the girl. "I can see you’re hard at work, diligently seeing to your labors, acolyte." He flushed, but said nothing. She finally acknowledged the girl herself.

"As for you, little songbird, you order me nothing. You complain to me nothing. I’m going to speak to the Revered Father tonight about your penance. Humility is important in all we do, as servants of the Golden Lady." She finished, and the girls’ eyes grew wide as Katarina mentioned penance, jaw clenching furiously.

"Don’t! Please don’t!" she urged fervently. Katarina cocked an eyebrow. "I did not say "I may speak to him", nor did I imply that I would retract it. I mean what I say: I will speak to the Revered Father of this church when I see him tonight. The topic of discussion will include your penance. This is a foregone conclusion."

The acolyte grimaced. "You’re singling us out, aren’t you? I find your treatment offensive."

Her brows twitched. "How can I single you out? You’re the only ones here." She replied curiously, gesturing.

"Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable." He muttered. He affected a put-upon sigh. "Fine, fine."

She stared after him wonderingly as he moved towards what she hoped was the stables. The choir girl dashed away in a different direction. As she was turning to the entrance she’d arrived at the day previous, the pastor approached her.

"You’re going to have to forgive him, Lady. He comes from one of the provincial towns to the east. In that area, the order is reversed; women serve and men lead. He is... resistant to change." he urged, stepping up to stand beside her.

Katarina laughed. "I don’t have to forgive anything." She replied comfortably, and the pastor grimaced silently.

"Can you forgive him?" The pastor asked. She tapped her lips with her finger thoughtfully. "Lend him to me for a couple of hours. I am going into town for some supplies, and I think some labor will find him the humility he so desperately seeks."

The Bishop smiled blandly, face blank. "Certainly. He is at your disposal."

She nodded and gestured after the choir girl, who had fled quickly after Katarina started talking penance. "She could use some disciplinary lashes as well." She suggested, and then glanced at the pastor and her expression changed.

"A word of advice, pastor:" She offered flatly. "Witch Hunters are trained to notice the smallest details. The next time I catch you looking at anything other than my eyes, you will face consequences."

There was a long silence, then, and Katarina expected him to slink away, much like he did yesterday. Instead, he spoke up. "It’s not much of a defense, but... It’s just that you stand out. It’s hard to not look. Women don’t normally dress as you do." He offered weakly.

"I’m not putting on a dress for you." She replied simply. "Deal with it, or I will." She finished quietly, and pulled on her hat and strode for the door.

As they made their way towards the shopping district, Katarina riding her horse, she was aware of the young man’s eyes on her again.

"Something on your mind, acolyte?" She asked, brow raised.

He struggled for words. "You should not be a Witch Hunter." He finally said. Her eyebrows rose.

"An interesting suggestion. Why would you say that?" She asked curiously. Inwardly, she added another mark to her assessment of his behavior.

"Well, you’re a woman, for starters." he stated as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

Katarina chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Hardly a convincing argument." She responded dismissively.

"Is it?" He insisted. "I can think of several valid reasons why you should not be a Witch Hunter." He declaimed authoritatively.

"At your leisure." She replied dryly.

"You wear trousers." He pointed out. "Which is both illegal and obscene. If you were not a Witch Hunter, you would not have this burden thrust upon you." He replied. "A man has no such constraints."

She raised an eyebrow at this. "I have dispensation from the Sanctuary of the Alstroemeria in Darnell." She replied. "Incidentally, this dispensation is given to all Witch Hunters, not just women. We Witch Hunters wear what we like, and no one can stand in judgement." She replied. "Next argument."

"It’s a dangerous job." He argued, hands moving. "I do not deny your authority or your station, but women ... should not be doing dangerous jobs." He said. She chuckled politely. Hopefully she could ward him off with a gentle reminder.

"When I was six, the clerics in Darnell came to my family in Begierde and told my father and mother that I had been called by the Golden Lady to be a Witch Hunter." She began, and turned her head to look at him while she spoke.

"The Golden Defender herself called me to be a Witch Hunter.", she mentioned, smirking. She raised her eyebrow. "Who are you to gainsay our divine goddess?"

He adopted a look of disdain. "Please." He remarked with an overwhelmingly patronizing tone, rolling his eyes ostentatiously, "That’s just a line the Church uses to get the Nobles to give up their children. The Nobles go along with it, too, because it clears up potential rivals for inheritance."

"You should pay attention to your words, acolyte. They border on heresy." She remarked, holding up her hand.

He frowned, and blew out air through his nose. "Fine. I retract what I said." She raised her eyebrow again. How would he feel if he spent six months with Nadette, the paladin trainer in Darnell? She would work him mercilessly, tirelessly, ruthlessly, until his unbelievable opinions simply evaporated under her relentless discipline, most likely. That woman had iron for blood and brooked no insolence.

They walked in silence for a short period of time.

"I wonder, how old are you?" She asked curiously.

"Fifteen." He muttered. She nodded. "The Church will recognize you as an adult in a year, then. Will you return to your town when you have finished your training?" She asked, forcing a subject change. He shook his head.

"I plan on moving to Norn and training in Scripture." He replied. She nodded. "A worthy pursuit. You will be invaluable." He pointed out a wide, single-floor building. "There’s the general goods store." He remarked. She nodded, and they turned towards it.

===$$$===

As they crossed the hard-packed street, he suddenly asked, "Have you ever thought of getting married?" She burst out into laughter. He glared, affronted.

"What wind had to blow to make you ask that?" she asked, wiping her eye. He shook his head. "I’m being serious, here. I just want to know if you’ve thought about it."

She shook her head wonderingly, disbelieving his audacity. "I will never marry. I serve the Golden Lady wholeheartedly."

"Of course you do. I do too-" he replied, but she cut him off.

"You don’t understand? I travel the length and breadth of this continent hunting witches. I will likely die a meaningless and empty death in a forest no one has explored; no one will note or mourn my passing. Perhaps some beastman will feed on my corpse when I am gone." She smiled, a truly beautiful smile that softened her aristocratic face. "The fact that I die in Her service is my only consolation. Indeed, it’s all I need."

He shook his head. "It doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t have to be a Witch Hunter, you know. You could retire. Have children." She laughed again. His audacity was unbelievable.

"I am eleven years your senior, I am taller than you, stronger than you, I carry more authority in the Church than you, and yet bizarrely you have some strange idea that you can advise me on my life’s pursuits..." She chuckled lightly, "Abandon my responsibility to the Golden Lady?" she mused thoughtfully, glancing over at him.

He frowned at that. "I am being sincere, here." He stated angrily.

She nodded. "Of course you are." she mocked lightly. "But you’re not even a man. Just a boy, an acolyte." She replied. "Tell me, why do you think I am a Witch Hunter? Do you think I do it for glory? For renown? For a reward?"

He shrugged. "I saw the letter about your pay. It’s unbelievable. More than I could make in ..." he trailed off.

She blinked several times as they mounted the steps to the store. Did he really think she was a Witch Hunter because of the amount of money the church owed her? Certainly the money was sizable. All Witch Hunters were allocated a stipend that was significant, mostly to offset the costs of ammunition, but she was very frugal, preferring to stay in the wilds when she could, hunting her food, reloading her own ammunition, and bartering instead of paying with coin. As her back pay grew and grew, she grew more and more reluctant, having absolutely no idea what to do with it.

They stepped inside the store. She guided him over to a rack of loaves of bread. She chose one and handed it to him. It was warm and soft, fresh from the oven.

"Can you take this loaf of bread and turn it into a sword, boy?" She asked. He grimaced. "I have a name, you know."

"I don’t care what your name is. You are an acolyte and I am your superior. For me, ‘boy’ is sufficient. Now answer the question: can you take this loaf of bread and turn it into a sword?" He looked at the long baguette in his hands and back up at her, puzzled. "Of course not." She nodded. "Just so. A sword cannot become a loaf of bread; likewise a Witch Hunter cannot be a housewife."

He fell mercifully quiet at that. They approached the counter, and Katarina addressed the shopkeeper. "I need feed for a horse, three kilos." The shopkeeper shook his head. "Sorry, mi’lady, we don’t carry that. There’s a stall a block away that carries animal feed. We deal mostly in goods for people." He remarked apologetically.

"No need to apologize, sir. can you sign this?" she asked, and handed the voucher over. He glanced at the contents and nodded, and affixed his seal to the bill of sale.

As they left, the acolyte shook his head. "Still, that money you have-" He started. She raised her hand, interrupting him. "The reason I have so much backpay is because I rarely have use for it. The towns I visit mainly barter for goods. Was that not the case where you are from?" She asked curiously. He nodded.

"Just so. I have very little use for money. Likewise, I do not do my job for the pay I accumulate. I don’t do my job because I hope to eventually retire and settle down. I do my job because I am compelled, acolyte. Because there is nothing else I would rather do. Any fame or wealth or ... influence I may have gained is irrelevant to me."

He chewed this over for a while.

"Well, how about this instead? You surely get lonely." He remarked with a knowing wink. "You can come and visit my quarters tonight. Certainly they aren’t as lavish as the Diviner’s, perhaps, but I’m certain I can satisfy any urges-"

She turned on the acolyte suddenly, hair swinging, hand dropping to her gunbutt, but falling on an empty holster. Her move startled him and he stumbled back, hands raised in a warding gesture, and tripped on his own feet and fell on his ass.

"I only acknowledge one urge, acolyte." Katarina replied, her anger rising. "The urge to do my duty. To hunt the Witch, to root out heresy and mutation wherever I go. To serve the Golden Lady in thought, word, and deed." Her face twisted. "You think rutting like an animal in heat is in any way meaningful to me?" She shook her head. "You disgust me. You are an offense."

He looked up at her angrily. "The Lily of Spring is one of her aspects, you know!" He argued, gesturing as he rose to his feet. "There’s nothing wrong with-"

"Oh, don’t pull that bullshit on me. It may work with innocent choir girls, but it won’t work with me." He jolted at that, a guilty expression flitting across his face for a moment. "I’d sooner kiss a pig. You’re useless. Leave. Go back to the Church and request the Revered Father beat you until dinnertime tonight. If you don’t, I will see to your penance personally and you’ll wish he had beat you for a year." She shoved him and he fell back on his ass again. She pointed in the direction of the church, and the odious man turned and fled, nearly colliding with passing people several times.