toppling is clearly nonsense, but it talks of men becoming daemons and turning on their fellows,’
'Ah… now I see. You think that this is another clue as to what happened to Xavyer Jubal?'
'Don't you?' asked Loken, turning one of the yellowed parchments around to point at a fanged daemon figure clothed in fur with curling ram's Horus and a bloody, skull-stamped axe.
'Jubal turned into a daemon and tried to kill me! Just as happened to Anult Keyser himself. One of his generals, a man called Wilhym Mardol, became a daemon and killed him. Doesn't that sound familiar?'
Sindermann leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Loken saw how tired he looked, his skin the colour of the parchments he perused and his clothes hanging from his body as though draped across his bare bones.
Loken realised that the venerable iterator was exhausted.
'I'm sorry, Kyril,’ he said, also sitting back. 'I didn't come here to pick a fight with you,’
Sindermann smiled, reminding Loken of how much he had come to rely on his wise counsel. Though not a tutor as such, Sindermann had filled the role of Loken's mentor and instructor for some time, and it had come as
a great shock to discover that Sindermann did not have all the answers.
'It's alright, Garviel, it's good that you have questions, it shows you are learning that there is often more to the truth than what we see at first. I'm sure the Warmaster values that aspect of you. How is the commander?'
Tired,’ admitted Loken. 'The demands of those crying for his attention grow more strident every day. Communiques from every expedition in the Crusade seek to pull him in all directions, and insulting directives from the Council of Terra seek to turn him into a damned administrator instead of the Warmaster. He carries a huge burden, Kyril; but don't think you can change the subject that easily'
Sindermann laughed. 'You are becoming too quick for me, Garviel. Very well, what is it you want to know?'
'The men in the book who were said to use sorcerous powers, were they warlocks?'
'I don't know,' admitted Sindermann. 'It's certainly possible. The powers they used certainly do not sound natural.'
'But how could their leaders have sanctioned the use of such powers? Surely they must have seen how dangerous it was?'
'Perhaps, but think on this: we know so little on the subject and we have the light of the Emperor's wisdom and science to guide us. How much less must they have known?'
'Even a barbarian must know that such things are dangerous,' said Loken.
'Barbarian?' said Sindermann. 'A pejorative term indeed, my friend. Do not be so quick to judge, we are not so different from the tribes of Old Earth as you might think.'
'Surely you're not serious,' asked Loken. 'We are as different from them as a star from a planet,’
'Are you so sure, Garviel? You believe that the wall, separating civilisation from barbarism is as solid as steel, but it is not. I tell you the division is a thread, a sheet of glass. A touch here, a push there, and you bring back the reign of pagan superstition, fear of the dark and the worship of fell beings in echoing fanes,’
You exaggerate,’
'Do I?' asked Sindermann, leaning forward. 'Imagine a newly compliant world that experiences a shortage of some vital resource, such as fuel, water or food, how long would it take before civilised behaviour broke down and barbaric behaviour took over? Would human selfishness cause some to fight to get that resource at all costs, even if it meant harm to others and trafficking with evil? Would they deprive others of this resource, or even destroy them in an effort to keep it for themselves? Common decency and civil behaviour are just a thin veneer over the animal at the core of mankind that gets out whenever it has the chance,’
'You make it sound like there's no hope for us,’
'Far from it Garviel,’ said Sindermann, shaking his head. 'Mankind continually stands bewildered in the presence of its own creation, but, thanks to the great works of the Emperor, I firmly believe that the time will come when we will rise to mastery of all before us. The time mat has passed since civilisation began is but a fragment of the duration of our existence, and but a fragment of the ages yet to come. The rale of the Emperor, brotherhood in society, equality in rights and privileges, and universal education foreshadow the higher plane of society to which our experience, intelligence and knowledge are steadily tending. It will be a revival, in a higher form, of the liberty, equality and fraternity of the ancient tribes of Man before the rise of warlords like Kalagann or Narthan Dume,’
Loken smiled, 'And to think I thought you were in despair,’
Sindermann returned Loken's smile and said, 'No, Garviel, far from it. I admit I was shaken after the Whis-perheads, but the more I read, the more I see how far we have come and how close we are to achieving everything we ever dreamed of. Each day, I am thankful that we have the light of the Emperor to guide us into this golden future. I dread to think what might become of us were he to be taken from us.'
'Don't worry,’ said Loken. That will never happen.'
Aximand looked through a gap in the netting and said, 'Erebus is here.'
Horus nodded and turned to face the four members of the Mournival. 'You all know what to do?'
'No,’ said Torgaddon. 'We've completely forgotten. Why don't you remind us,’
Horus's eyes darkened at Tarik's levity and he said, 'Enough, Tank. There is a time for jokes, and this isn't it, so keep your mouth shut,’
Torgaddon looked shocked at the Warmaster's outburst, and shot a hurt glance at his fellows. Loken was less shocked, having witnessed the commander raging at subordinates many times in the weeks since they had departed the marches of the interex. Horus had known no peace since the terrible bloodshed amid the House of Devices on Xenobia, and the deaths and the missed opportunity of unification with the interex haunted him still.
Since the debacle with the interex, the Warmaster had withdrawn into a sullen melancholy, remaining more and more within his inner sanctum, with only Erebus to counsel him. The Mournival had barely seen their commander since returning to Imperial space and they all keenly felt their exclusion from his presence.
Where once they had offered the Warmaster their guidance, now, only Erebus whispered in his ear.
Thus, it was with some relief that the Mournival heard that Erebus would take his leave of the Expedition and journey ahead with his own Legion to Davin.
Even while en route to the Davin system, the War-master had not had a moment's peace. Repeated requests for aid or tactical assistance came to him from all across the galaxy, from brother primarchs, Army commanders and, most loathed of all, the army of civil administrators who followed in the wake of their conquests.
The eaxectors from Terra, led by a high administratrix called Aenid Rathbone, plagued the Warmaster daily for assistance in their dispersal throughout the compliant territories to begin the collection of the Emperor's Tithe. Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew that such a measure was premature, and Horus had done all he could to stall Rathbone and her eaxectors, but there was only so long they could be kept at bay.
'If I had my choice,’ Horus had told Loken one evening as they had discussed fresh ways of delaying the taxation of compliant worlds, 'I would kill every eaxec-tor in the Imperium, but I'm sure we would be getting tax bills from hell before breakfast,’
Loken had laughed, but the laughter had died in his throat when he realised that
