Chapter 49

When Katarina awoke, she was at first delighted to discover her sight had returned, and then immediately exasperated. Everything was a blurry smear and it hurt to look at anything for long. This trip was a poor decision. She hadn’t had a bath since Begierde. She felt disgusting and disappointed. She trusted the Goddess to lead her to wherever it was she needed to go, but at the same time, she struggled with her own blindness. She missed the forests of Hesperia. Long days riding, nights curled by the fire, singing quietly in worship and to keep the loneliness at bay.

"Are you really a lady?" A girl’s voice asked, breathless with excitement. Katarina turned her head.

"I suppose I am." She replied to the pastel smear that was bobbing about in the chair next to her bed.

"I was told Ladies wear fancy dresses." The girl reported confidently. "You’re not wearing a dress." the girl observed pointedly.

"Well then, I guess I’m not." Katarina replied comfortably.

The girl made a noise of complaint at that.

"If a ‘Lady’ was defined just by the clothes they wear, then you’d be closer to being a ‘Lady’ than I." Katarina replied with a smile. "A true Lady is someone that lets their character define them." She explained. "Keep your faith in front of you, present it boldly. Let the love of the Goddess flow through you and express out in your thoughts, words, and deeds." She added, "and you will be a better Lady than one that simply wears jewels and dresses." She finished.

Durin bustled in. Katarina could only recognize him by his voice and smell, but she knew him.

"We’ve decided to strike while the metal is hot." He reported. "We’re taking the road to Blackwall."

Katarina nodded. "I don’t know this land. Will you be safe?" She asked, and he shrugged. "It’s better than waiting for the rain to return." He replied. "Since there’s no horses to be had, we’ll be going by lug-naut."

Katarina blinked a few times. "I don’t know what that is." She replied, and he chuckled. "It’s a flivver." He added, and she frowned, confused. "A whoosh-wagon?" He offered lamely, and she shook her head.

He let out a long suffering sigh. "It’s like a wagon." He explained. "Though there’s no horses. A great beastie of an engine in it. Magical. We hook up the rest of the carts and wagons to it and we can go down the road apace."

"You say that it runs off magic?" She asked, and he nodded. "There’s a magical box that fits over the axles. It turns them. We just control the steerage. No need for horses." he added.

"It might be best if you left me behind, then." Katarina replied, sitting up. "I’m a Witch Hunter, and the power that the Goddess has given me causes magical devices to fail and break." She added.

He sighed. "We’ll put you in one of the rearward carts, then." he advised. "Though it might be frightful bumpy." he paused. "We simply can’t leave you here in your condition." he added.

She shook her head. "I’ll be fine." She replied stubbornly.

Her vision must be recovering, because she could swear he put his hands on his hips angrily, she thought to herself.

"No." He replied flatly. "You’re a Pavlenko. I don’t know what happened to the others, so that makes you our Lady, and that means that just as you have a duty to watch over us, we in turn have to keep you safe from harm. We’ll not forget our oaths."

She wanted to argue, but suddenly felt too tired to offer a complaint, so instead she just sighed and lay back down. "Do as you like." She replied, resigning herself. He nodded at that.

She was loaded onto the wagon-train with a great mound of clothes and sheets and bedding and told to rest, for which she was profoundly grateful when the wagon train started. Durin was right, it was frightfully bumpy. The mounded bedding and clothing absorbed most of the roughness of the road however, and Katarina was able to fall into a thin sleep.

She kept waking up, however, awestruck at how quickly the landscape slid by. By her guess, she was travelling about twice the speed of her horse at a full trot. It baffled and amazed her at how quickly they were moving. She tempered her awe with a reminder that it was unnatural and only possible through the use of magics.

She was also able to learn firsthand the extent of the damage that the Black Rain had wrought: The capital of Wallachia had boasted a population of hundreds of thousands, a number that goggled her. The city itself was at least five times the size of Darnell, and yet despite the number of people, only a scant double-dozen people had survived the horror. The storm that Katarina had brought, the storm that was Simurgh in her raw form had decimated the population of monsters, but also obliterated the city.

"Be trampled in my indifference." She whispered, the first thing Simurgh had said to her.

The trip out of the city took some time, and everyone let out delighted cheers at sunrise. There was scattered applause, and a few people began singing hymns as the sun peaked over the horizon. For the survivors, it was the first time that they’d seen the sun in months.

It wasn’t difficult to track the Black Rain’s advance towards Wallachia, Katarina learned. Where it had passed, the land was spoiled and ruined and stained black with corruption. As they marched south, they were joined by others. Mostly travelling in twos and threes, on foot and wagon and horseback. Katarina spent the time cleaning her gun and praying and resting. Her vision seemed to get better with each passing day. Assuming they followed orders, her ship was likely making its way to Blackwater- or had arrived there already. It was difficult to tell how much time she had lost or how quick the cutter could travel.

The land was uniformly bleak, the road shifting from hard-packed earth to stone paving and back again. The trees within the field of corruption were skeletal and black, the ones outside the boundary were desperate and bare, thirsty for moisture. The Black Rain affected not only the land, but the weather as well, it seemed.

They were joined by a small detachment men in the livery of guards; they carefully guarded a carriage surrounded by a trio of women riding sidesaddle daintily.

The little girl Cara smiled smugly up at Katarina. "See? What did I tell you?" She exclaimed with all the self-importance only a girl of twelve could muster. "Ladies." She gestured at the procession.

Katarina flagged down one of the guards.

"Who are you?" She asked with a small wave at the procession.

He eyed her distastefully. "Back in line, peasant." he sneered, baring an inch of sword warningly. She raised an eyebrow.

"You didn’t answer my question." She responded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Nor shall I. Be grateful I don’t give you a blow to knock your wits into some form of sense." He replied coldly.

She held up her holy symbol. "My name is Katarina." She replied simply. "I’m a Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady." She informed him. He raised an eyebrow.

"That might work with the others, but it doesn’t impress me. The Church of the Golden Lady hasn’t dispatched a Witch Hunter this way in years." He replied simply.

"Maybe." She replied. "But I had to come, anyway." She rebutted. "Now tell me about your party." She added. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "We carry the remains of our High Lord, Konrad lon Pavlenko. The lands are spoiled; we could not allow him to rest beneath tainted soil."

Katarina nodded. "I wonder if he’s a cousin." She mused, and then shrugged. "I’ve no idea of the bloodlines."

He frowned down at her. "Cousin? You offend me by claiming heritage."

She grinned impudently up at him. "I am Katarina lon Pavlenko, of the Merchant Lords of Einsamkeit."

His eyes widened in surprise at that. "I had no idea." he murmured. "Perhaps you could join us at first camp. I’m sure my Ladies would be interested to discuss your supposed... pedigree." He twisted his reins and led his horse away from the cart.

Katarina raised an eyebrow at that, but grinned. If she was able to reach an amicable relationship, she might just get a horse.

Katarina could read the nervousness and reluctance of the peasants very well. They didn't want to camp out in the open, exposed and vulnerable. They would rather risk travelling the road at night rather than stop and camp if possible.

The skies were clear, however, and Katarina spoke a few words to them.

"We'll camp light. If we've got wood for fires, we'll have a hot meal. If not, then we'll eat cold, and rest a few hours." She looked across the group that had swelled while she'd slept in the cart; now there were at least a hundred. "Are we without lanterns?" She asked, and Durin shook his head. "We've got them, why?" He asked curiously. She gave a wry twist to her mouth. "Mount them on the ... whoosh-wagon. That way we can see the road at night." She said by way of explanation, and his eyes lit up at that suggestion.

The idea wasn't as welcomed with the nobles that had joined the wagon train. They had their servants setting up a great silk pavillion tent, tables and chairs were produced as if by magic, picket lines were established for their horses, and several cooking fires were lit.

"Baurus tells me that you've laid claim to be a Pavlenko." The woman remarked contemptuously. "Tell me why I should believe you and why I should not have him strike your head from your shoulders for your impertinence." She demanded imperiously.

Katarina rolled her eyes. "I am Boiyar Katarina lon Pavlenko. I was born to Bianka and Rickard lon Pavlenko twenty-six years ago in Begierde." She explained shortly.

"And their parentage?" the woman demanded. She was soft and corpulent in the way of nobility, her skin pale and unmarked by labor, her pale blonde hair done up in extravagant loops and whorls and ringlets.

"Bianka was born to Claudia lon Pavlenko. Rickard was a von Karstein, a branch house of the Edelweiss, a noble house in Einsamkeit."

The woman's eyes widened at this. "Claudia was my grandmother's sister." She breathed. "We are cousins." She admitted.

Katarina smiled. "It's good to meet family, even one so far removed from my own." She replied. "It makes me feel less a stranger in these lands."

The woman nodded absently at this. "What is it that you want, Katarina?" She asked shortly. "I have little time or patience for trivialities."

Katarina smiled. "We share something in common besides just our blood, then. I'll get right to the point: I want a horse."

The woman blinked at that. "What?" She replied, baffled.

Katarina nodded. "I am a Justicar Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady. I hunt the origin of the Black Rain that has destroyed my homeland."

The woman burst into peals of laughter at that.

"Surely that's not all you require, cousin." She added, her eyes hard glints in her round face.

Katarina shook her head. "All I need is a horse." She repeated.

The woman nodded. "Very well, for the coincidence of names, I shall allow you to take a horse from our lines. For the sake of blood, I will give you Baurus as well. He will accompany you when you depart." She added.

Katarina's eyes narrowed. Did she think they weren't related? She wondered.

"Coincidence?" Katarina asked, unable to wholly keep the anger from her voice. The woman tipped a slight curtsey her way, an acknowledgement of equals. "I am Cneaz Catalina lon Pavlenko." She replied with a tiny smile.

Katarina nodded at that, gave her a slight bow, and left the tent.

She found Durin, and let him know that she would be splitting with them to ride in pursuit of the origin of the rain.

He gave her a sad smile and a bow, hand on his heart. "Honor to serve, Lady." He replied.

"See these people to Blackwall safely." She charged him. "You might have to leave the lords and ladies behind while they break camp." She advised, a sour twist to her mouth. "That might upset them, but that's less important than getting to safety." She encouraged. He nodded to show he understood.

"Goddess go with you." He offered, and she nodded.

"You as well. If all goes well, I shall meet you in Blackwall..." She trailed off. "Eventually." He nodded, but she could see the disbelief written in his eyes, his posture. She was going, and he'd never see her again.

Katarina examined the horse her cousin had allowed her to take from the pickets. It was a mare, and a thing of beauty, well groomed, well fed, and strong. Not a warhorse like her own, back in Einsamkeit, but well-bred and showy.

Baurus turned out to be the guard she'd spoken with in the beginning. She carefully stepped away from him and put the horse between the two of them as if she were cinching her bedroll down to the saddle. It had been a couple hours since she'd shared her goodbyes with Durin. On the way to the picket lines she'd taken some jerky from the meager stock, and helped herself to some soup at one of the nobles' firepits.

"The High Lady said I was to accompany you." he said by way of introduction. She nodded at that, and eyed him skeptically.

"I can't guarantee your survival." She warned, and he shrugged. "If I die serving the House of Pavlenko, then I have done my duty and done it well." He replied. She raised an eyebrow at that and wondered.

"Who are the other two women with Catalina?" Katarina asked curiously.

"The Cneaz Eveline and Victoria." He replied. She nodded. A conversation overheard through a tent wall made a bit more sense.

They rode out of camp, heading southeast. "Where... do we ride?" Baurus asked as they traveled.

"We?" She asked pointedly. "I'm after whatever created the Black Rain. I'm going to find whoever did this, and kill them." She replied simply. "You're going to accompany me a ways, maybe a day or two, and then you're going to turn around and go back."

He gave her a baffled look. "Why would you say that?" he asked. "What makes you think I would go?"

She sighed patiently. "I am armored in my faith to the Golden Lady." She replied. "My abilities as a Witch Hunter will protect me from the Black Rain." She shook her head. "I can't give you that protection. If you come with me, you'll turn into one of those things." She added. "And then I'll have to kill you. So we'll ride, and after we travel a bit, you'll return to the High Ladies and you'll tell them you've killed me."

His baffled look deepened. He stared at her like he'd discovered a new form of stupid.

"Don't look at me like that." She stated calmly. "I'm not stupid. You were told to kill me. You're to wait until it's advantageous and you can do it discretely."

He froze. She nodded. "That's why I've never shown my back to you. That's why I've had my gun on you the entire time." She explained. "So don't look at me like I'm stupid."

He reached for the sword at his waist, but her coat twitched. "Careful." She warned. "This close and they'll hear the gunshot. I'll have to tell them exactly who ordered my death and why. Then I'll have to invoke my authorities as either an Annointed Knight or as an Inquisitor of the Golden Lady and call for the heads of my cousins." She warned. "All of them."

He froze at that. She nodded. "So which one is it?" She asked. "You called her 'my love, my sweet', but never by name when she gave you your mission."

"You... you're no Pavlenko." He whispered hoarsely.

"Sure I am." She replied comfortably. It felt good to be back in the saddle again. The horse was deliciously responsive, as well.

"You wouldn't wish the death of your own blood if that were the case." He accused. She lifted an eyebrow. "Isn't that what they did with you?" She remarked painstakingly. "My way is more merciful." She replied. "You ride with me for a couple of days while they make their way to Blackwall. Then you turn around and head back and tell whichever one of them that put the knife in your hand that you've killed me, and that'll be that. Nobody has to die."

He was silent as they rode for a time. "You could kill me." He observed reluctantly.

She nodded. "I could." She confirmed. "But I believe that the Goddess of the Dawn has a finger on every heart of her believers." She explained. "And I want her to press down on your heart, so the guilt and shame of your planned murder weighs heavily on you. I want it to stifle your breath and sour the food in your mouth." She remarked with a devilish smile. He responded with a grimace and they rode in silence again.

They set up camp in the blighted lands. Katarina ate some of her food, deigning to share with the would-be murderer.

"Why should I feed the man that thinks he can kill me?" She asked curiously. "Now tell me: If we head this way, what is the name of the first city we'll come to?" She asked. "I've been told a number of things, and I want to make sure it's clear in my head." She encouraged.

"Twin cities, Muntenia and Oltenia." He advised. "Then, some twenty or so miles further southeast, nestled against the Schactice cliffs will be Crisania, High Lady." He advised, and she snorted. "Trying to ingratiate yourself to me?" She offered, and he shook his head.

"You're a true lon Pavlenko." He admitted grudgingly, and tossed his sword and daggers at her feet. He even pulled out the dagger in his sleeve and tossed that at her feet.

"Tell me of Crisania." She offered, ignoring the weapons. He shrugged at that. "I've never been there, but it's supposed to be at the base of the pass that leads to the highlands."

"Pass?" She asked curiously. He nodded. "Where the Schactice and Sterious ranges intersect."

She nodded at that.

"I'll go with you." he decided.

Katarina glanced at the sky. Far to the southeast she could see a dark smudge on the horizon, darker even than the oncoming night.

"I don't think so. We've got perhaps only hours before the storm is upon us." She replied and pointed.

He swallowed and crossed his fists over his heart. "Golden Lady watch over me." He prayed.

"Get on your horse and head back, Baurus." She encouraged. "I can't keep you safe, and you don't want to become one of those things."

He shook his head and pulled out a hooded cape from his saddle and swirled it around his shoulders and sat down opposite her. "I ride with you." He declared firmly. "You can kill me if you like, but you can't send me away."

She rolled her eyes. "Even if the cloak was proof against the Black Rain, your horse isn't." She remarked pointedly. His mouth dropped open.

"What happens when they are hit by the Black Rain?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"It's not pretty." was all he replied, and hurriedly saddled his horse, eliciting a nicker of protest.

"Your weapons." Katarina remarked, and he shook his head. "They're yours." He turned and galloped back the way they came.

Katarina curried her horse and got it to lay down, no easy feat with the approaching storm. She invoked the White Doctrine and the mare relaxed. Katarina extended her antimagic field to its utmost limit.

As the storm surged overhead bringing with it a malignant torrent of rain, Katarina sang a hymn to the Goddess. Sickly green lightning flickered in the clouds, and still she sang. The rain poured down in a perfect ten foot circle around her, and she sang. It rained all night, and she stayed awake, singing praises to the Golden Lady.

In the morning the rain stopped, but the clouds hung low, menacing, oppressive. She fed her horse, gave it some of her own water, and mounted up. "Time to go." She told the horse, and she headed southeast.