Hasarna at die end of each autumn, slaughtering the livestock ready for the cold months. It was an old tradition, one that mixed ritual blood-letting with the dying of the calendar year, and is common throughout the Imperium. Pre-Imperial Terra had just such a myth once, called the Hallows, or the Eve of Hallowing.
The cult leader was Amel Sanx, the Corruptor of Lyx, reappearing for the first time after a century of hiding to spread his poisons. Sanx was so notorious a heretic that once it became known he was involved, the initial Inquisitorial efforts to prosecute the Hearthood multiplied a hundredfold and a kill-team of the Adepta Sororitas led by Inquisitor Aedelorn obliterated them in a raid on Hasarna's northern capital.
In the aftermath, it was discovered that Sanx had already sacrificed most of his minor followers as part of a ritual that Aedelorn's raid had interrupted. Thuring was one of his second tier of trusted acolytes in the Hearthood. His body was listed as amongst the ritual victims.
Midas's killer was dead. Or so I had thought until that moment in the sacristy of Eriale's Minster.
'Are you sure of this?'
Fischig looked at me with a shrug as if I should have trouble doubting his words. Where is he?' That's the part you've going to love. He's here.'
They had taken their places already in the main vault of the Minster by the time I joined them. House Samargue had brought out a militant advocate to answer for them and already he was strenuously trying to establish the fragility of Udwin Pridde's testimony.
I slammed my fist on the table to shut him up.
'Enough! This Examination is suspended!'
My fellow inquisitors swung round to look at me.
'It's what?' asked Menderef.
'Until further notice!' I added.
'But-' Koth began.
'Gregor-?' asked Rassi. 'What are you doing?'
This is highly irregular-' Verveuk said.
'I know!' I told him, right into his face. He flinched.
'My lord chief examiner/ asked the Samargue's advocate, stepping towards the bench nervously, 'may I presume to ask when this hearing might recommence?'
'When I'm ready/ I snarled. 'When I'm good and ready/
TWO
Betancore, blood up. Fischig's briefing. Arming for battle.
Itcaused quite a stir. what am i saying? Of course it caused quite a stir. Crowds quickly gathered outside the Minster in the bright afternoon sunshine. The archivists and pamphleteers who had been dozing in the public gallery scampered off to promulgate the news. Even the confessors and preachers who had been wandering the streets, lambasting the common-folk with bilious sermons against heresy, followed the crowds to the Minster square.
'You can't just suspend a Court of Examination!' Menderef raged at me. I shoved him aside and strode on down the long aisle towards the main doors of the Minster. Bequin and Fischig were in step with me, and Aemos scurried to catch up.
You say 'here', what do you mean?' I asked Fischig, dragging off my fur-trimmed cloak and my chain of office and tossing them onto a pew.
'Miquol/ he said. 'It's an island in the northern polar circle. About two hours' transit time/
'Eisenhorn! Eisenhorn!' Menderef yelled behind me, a twitter of agitated voices around him.
You sure it's him?'
'I've reviewed Godwin's findings/ snapped Bequin. 'It's Thuring, all right. I'd put money on it/
We reached the end of the Minster's nave and were crossing towards the entrance arch and daylight. A hand caught my sleeve.
I turned. It was Rassi.
What are you doing, Gregor? This is holy work you're abandoning/
'I'm not abandoning anything, Poul. Didn't you hear me? I'm suspending it. This Examination is all about feeble little recidivists and their ungodly habits. I'm set on a true heretic.'
'Really?'
'Come along if you don't believe me/
'Very well/
As I pressed on through the great doorway, Rassi turned and intercepted Koth and Menderef. He shouted down their objections. 'I'm going with him/ I heard him say to them. 'I trust Eisenhorn's judgment. If he was wrong to break the court here, I'll testify to that when I return/
We were out in the daylight. Mobs of civilians gazed at us, some shielding their eyes from the sun's glare where the blossom-heavy trees of the square failed to shade them.
'Medea?' I asked Fischig.
'Already called in. I presumed; I hope that's all right/
'Does she know?'
Fischig glanced at Bequin and Aemos. Yes. I couldn't hide it from her/
Almost on cue, Medea's voice crackled over my vox-link. 'Aegis descending, the Armour of God, by two/ she reported in Glossia code, her voice hard-edged and bitter.
'Damn it!' I said. 'Clear the square!'
Fischig and Bequin ran forward into the crowd. 'Clear the area!' Bequin yelled. 'Come on, move! Move now!' Fischig bellowed. No one obeyed.
Fischig pulled out his handgun and fired into the air. Shrieking, the crowd surged back and streamed away down the approach streets.
Just in time.
My gun-cutter, all four hundred and fifty tonnes of it, swung in over the roof of the Eriale Municipal Library and descended on wailing thrasters into the Minster square. The downwash blew the blossom off the trees and filled with air with petals like confetti.
I felt the ground shake as the vessel set down hard. Flagstones cracked under the steel pads of the extended landing struts. Casements around the square shattered. The trees in the square billowed furiously in the outrush of the jets. The nose ramp whined open.
I hurried up the ramp with Aemos and Bequin, pausing to beckon Rassi aboard. Leaning on his cane, he walked more slowly than us. Fischig waited at the foot of the ramp, sternly ushering in the other members of my retinue who had been stationed in the vicinity of the Minster. Kara Swole, who had been monitoring the crowd from a caffeine house opposite the library. Duclane Haar, whose sniper-variant long-las had been tracking the traffic around the Minster's main door from the roof of the Administratum's tithe barn. Bex Begundi, who had been posing as a homeless mutant begging for alms in the porch of Saint Becwal's Chapel, his pistols concealed under his pauper's bowl.
Fischig pulled them all in and then ran up the ramp, hauling on the lever that slammed the ramp shut.
Almost immediately, the gun-cutter rose again, puffing out a cloud of blossom.
In the entry bay, I took a quick head count.
Verveuk! What are you doing here?'
As my Lord Rorken instructed/ he said, 'I go where you go, lord/
We gained altitude, climbing into the stratosphere for the transit north. My own people knew their places and tasks, but I pulled Kara Swole aside and told her to make sure Rassi and Verveuk were comfortable. 'Inquisitor Rassi deserves every courtesy, but don't give Verveuk a millimetre. Don't let him get
