Her cheek throbbed as they walked, throbbed and stung, but it could have been worse, so much worse. And she’d lived. So had he. Despite the sick feeling that had filled her as she’d fought, her instincts and training hadn’t failed her. Though she took considerable less pleasure in the act of fighting, she was still good at it. She could do this. It wasn’t quite triumph she was feeling as she followed Alexander through the church grounds, but it was something. 

She waited patiently in the shadows of the door as he knocked, the post-fight endorphins kicking in and making her want to lean against the lintel though she resisted. When the door opened and revealed a rather short, anonymously clothed Nun who instantly chided the ink-stained man for bringing home a woman she smirked and wondered how often such a thing had occurred. He didn’t seem the sort, but then she’d not known him long and such was not her business after all. But it got a grin nevertheless even if the Sister figured out quickly that this wasn’t the case. 

She nodded at her employer and followed the short woman into the quietly humble abode. Humble but not, like most things in the church, at least to her eyes, there was a veneer of deception to it. Oh it looked humble enough, but each join, each bit of furniture was made with a skill to stand the ages. Just unembellished. Typical. Humble but not. She followed the muttering woman to a room that smelled of dusty herbs and beeswax and settled into a chair as well made as any she’d seen in the houses of her more affluent employers. She watched the woman putter about, getting a bowl of water from a kettle kept warm by the fire and then sprinkle some herbs into the water as well as a jot or two from an amber bottle. 

“Hold still,” she woman said as she settled herself on a stool across from Katherine, taking her chin in her hands with soft fingers. It was an unneeded warning, but made a noise of ascent and held very still as the woman dabbed at the cut with a cloth dipped into the bowl. It hurt like a sunuvabitch and she couldn’t contain the hiss of pain that she let out but she didn’t jerk away. The Sister’s face remained smooth and kind as she worked. 

“I apologize for my assumptions.” She said as she wiped again, working the cloth deeper into the cut, making certain it was clean before she stitched it up. Katherine’s eyes watered but she made no protest she simply grunted an acknowledgement for the apology and then added,
“It’s a natural enough assumption until one sees my face.” 

As the sting faded from the cut, Katherine felt a cool numbness filling the space the sting had occupied and felt some of the tension in her shoulders relax. That would make the next bit less horrible. As if following her thoughts the sister reached for a wooden box and lifted the lid revealing a few needles threaded with gut. She selected one and pulled the lamp burning on the table closer to Katherine, casting her face even more into the light.

“I don’t know about that.” She said and brought the needle close. “A broken nose adds character.” She said and when Katherine snorted at that she leveled a stern look her way which made the Mercenary fall silent and hold still. 

Stitching was never pleasant, ever. But the wash and the care with which the Nun took made it less horrible. She took small stitches with competent speed, neither hurrying nor dawdling and when it was done she covered the whole thing with a thick slathering of green salve and then refused the coin that Katherine pushed her way. 

“Not necessary.” She said. “We help friends and allies of the church willingly.” 

[i]And there it was,[/i] Katherine thought, her own prejudices maybe adding color to words that might have been nothing more than a simple statement. [i]There it is, the hook, the goad, the promise of benefits if one simply sells one’s soul.[/i] She felt a tightness in her body at the perceived bait but managed a smile that was mostly not a grimace as she replied, 

“Thank you nevertheless.”

The Nun seemed to see something of her tension but said nothing of it, standing and leading Katherine to the door, “Let us see what Alexander has gotten himself into.”