Long night
The music of the spheres
'I was there,' said Titus Cassar, his wavering voice barely reaching the back of the chamber. 'I was there the day that Horus turned his face from the Emperor,’
His words brought a collective sigh from the Lec-titio Divinitatus congregation and as one they lowered their heads at such a terrible thought. From the back of the chamber, an abandoned munitions hold deep in the under-decks of the Warmaster's flagship, the Vengeful Spirit, Kyril Sindermann watched and winced at Cassar's awkward delivery. The man was no iterator, that was for sure, but his words carried the sure and certain faith of someone who truly believed in the things he was saying.
Sindermann envied him that certainty.
It had been many months since he had felt anyВthing approaching certainty.
As the Primary Iterator of the 63rd Expedition, it was Kyril Sindermann's job to promulgate the Imperial Truth of the Great Crusade, illuminating those worlds brought into compliance of the rule of the Emperor and the glory of the Imperium. BringВing the light of reason and secular truth to the furthest flung reaches of the ever-expanding human empire had been a noble undertaking.
But somewhere along the way, things had gone wrong.
Sindermann wasn't sure when it had happened. On Xenobia? On Davin? On Aureus? Or on any one of a dozen other worlds brought into compliance?
Once he had been known as the arch prophet of secular truth, but times had changed and he found himself remembering his Sahlonum, the Sumatu-ran philosopher who had wondered why the light of new science seemed not to illuminate as far as the old sorceries had.
Titus Cassar continued his droning sermon, and Sindermann returned his attention to the man. Tall and angular, Cassar wore the uniform of a moderati primus, one of the senior commanders of the Dies Irae, an Imperator-class Battle Titan. Sindermann suspected it was this rank, combined with his earВlier friendship with Euphrati Keeler, that had granted his status within the Lectitio Divinitatus; status that he was clearly out of his depth in hanВdling.
Euphrati Keeler: imagist, evangelist…
…Saint.
He remembered meeting Euphrati, a feisty, supremely self-confident woman, on the embarkaВtion deck before they had left for the surface of Sixty-Three Nineteen, unaware of the horror they would witness in the depths of the Whisperhead Mountains.
Together with Captain Loken, they had seen the warp-spawned monstrosity Xayver Jubal had been wrought into. Sindermann had struggled to ratioВnalise what he had seen by burying himself in his books and learning to better understand what had occurred. Euphrati had no such sanctuary and had turned to the growing Lectitio Divinitatus cult for solace.
Venerating the Emperor as a divine being, the cult had grown from humble beginnings to a moveВment that was spreading throughout the Expedition fleets of the galaxy – much to the fury of the War-master. Where before the cult had lacked a focus, in Euphrati Keeler, it had found its first martyr and saint.
Sindermann remembered the day when he had witnessed Euphrati Keeler stand before a nightmare horror from beyond the gates of the Empyrean and hurl it back from whence it had come. He had seen her bathed in killing fire and walk away unscathed, a blinding light streaming from the outstretched hand in which she had held a silver Imperial eagle. Others had seen it too, Ing Mae Sing, Mistress of the Fleet's astropaths and a dozen of the ship's arms men. Word had spread fast and Euphrati had
become, overnight, a saint in the eyes of the faithВful and an icon to cling to on the frontier of space.
He was unsure why he had even come to this meeting – not a meeting, he corrected himself, but a service, a religious sermon – for there was a very real danger of recognition. Membership of the Lec-titio Divinitatus was forbidden and if he were discovered, it would be the end of his career as an iterator.
'Now we shall contemplate the word of the Emperor,’ continued Cassar, reading from a small leather chapbook. Sindermann was reminded of the Bondsman Number 7 books in which the late Ignace Karkasy had written his scandalous poetry. Poetry that had, if Mersadie Oliton's suspicions were correct, caused his murder.
Sinderman thought that the writings of the Lecti-tio Divinitatus were scarcely less dangerous.
We have some new faithful among us,' said CasВsar, and Sindermann felt every eye in the chamber turn upon him. Used to facing entire continents' worth of audience, Sindermann was suddenly acutely embarrassed by their scrutiny.
When people are first drawn to adoration of the Emperor, it is only natural that they should have questions,’ said Cassar. They know the Emperor must be a god, for he has god-like powers over all human species, but aside from this, they are in the dark.'
This, at least, Sindermann agreed with.
'Most importantly, they ask, "If the Emperor truly is a god, then what does he do with his divine
power?" We do not see His hand reaching down from the sky, and precious few of us are blessed with visions granted by Him. So does he not care for the majority of His subjects?"
They do not see the falsehood of such a belief. His hand lies upon all of us, and every one of us owes him our devotion. In the depths of the warp, the Emperor's mighty soul does battle with the dark things that would break through and consume us all. On Terra, he creates wonders that will bring peace, enlightenment and the fruition of all our dreams to the galaxy. The Emperor guides us, teaches us, and exhorts us to become more than we are, but most of all, the Emperor protects,’
The Emperor protects,’ said the congregation in unison.
The faith of the Lectitio Divinitatus, the Divine Word of the Emperor, is not an easy path to follow. Where the Imperial Truth is comforting in its rigВorous rejection of the unseen and the unknown, the Divine Word requires the strength to believe in that which we cannot see. The longer we look upon this dark galaxy and live through the fires of its conquest, the more we realise that the Emperor's divinity is the only truth that can exist. We do not seek out the Divine Word; instead, we hear it, and are compelled to follow it. Faith is not a flag of allegiance or a theory for debate; it is something deep within us, complete and inevitable. The LecВtitio Divinitatus is the expression of that faith, and only by acknowledging the Divine Word can we
understand the path the Emperor has laid before mankind.'
Fine words, thought Sindermann: fine words, poorly delivered, but heartfelt. He could see that they had touched something deep inside those who heard it. An orator of skill could sway entire worlds with such words and force of belief.
Before Cassar could continue, Sindermann heard sudden shouts coming from the maze of corridors that led into the chamber. He turned as a panicked woman hurled the door behind him open with a dull clang of metal. In her wake, Sindermann could hear the hard bangs of bolter rounds.
The congregation started in confusion, looking to Cassar for an explanation, but the man was as nonВplussed as they were.
'They've found you,’ yelled Sindermann, realising what was happening.
'Everyone, get out,' shouted Cassar. 'Scatter!'
Sindermann pushed his way through the panickВing crowd to the front of the chamber and towards Cassar. Some members of the congregation were producing guns, and from their martial bearing, SinВdermann guessed they were Imperial Army troopers. Some were clearly ship's crewmen, and Sindermann knew enough of religion to know that they would defend their faith with violence if they had to.
'Come on, iterator. It's time we got out of here,’ said Cassar, dragging the venerable iterator towards one of the many access corridors that radiated from the chamber.
Seeing the worry on his face, Cassar said, 'Don't worry, Kyril, the Emperor protects,’
'I certainly hope so,’ replied Sindermann breathВlessly.
Shots echoed from the ceiling and bright muzzle flashes strobed from the walls. Sindermann threw a glance over his shoulder and saw the bulky, armoured form of Astartes entering the chamber. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of being the enemy of such warriors.
Sindermann hurriedly followed Cassar into the access corridor and through a set of blast doors, their path twisting through the depths of the ship. The Vengeful Spirit was an immense vessel and he had no idea of the layout of this area, its walls grim and industrial compared to the magnificence of the upper decks.
'Do you know where you are going?' wheezed Sindermann, his breath coming in hot, agonised spikes and his ancient limbs already tiring from exertion he was scarcely used to.
'Engineering,’ said Cassar. 'It's like a maze down there and we have friends in the engine crew. Damn, why can't they just let us be?'
'Because they are scared of you,’ said Sindermann, 'just like I was,’
'And you are certain of this?' asked Horus, Pri-march of the Sons of Horus Legion and Warmaster of the Imperium, his voice echoing around the cavВernous strategium of the Vengeful Spirit.
'As certain as I can be,’ said Ing Mae Sing, the 63rd Expedition's Mistress of Astropaths. Her face was lined and drawn and her blind eyes were sunken within ravaged eye sockets. The demands of sendВing hundreds of telepathic communications across the galaxy weighed heavily on her skeletal frame. Astropathic acolytes gathered about her, robed in the same ghostly white as she and wordlessly whisВpering muttered doggerel of the ghastly images in their heads.
'How long do we have?' asked Horus.
As with all things connected with the warp, it is difficult to be precise,’ replied Ing Mae Sing.
'Mistress Sing,’ said Horus coldly, 'precision is exactly what I need from you, now more than ever. The direction of the Crusade will change dramatiВcally at this news, and if you are wrong it will change for the worse,’