Eusev knew quite well what she was doing. Isolation was one of the most effective ways of breaking a prisoner. Human beings were social creatures by nature, and long-term solitude was simply unbearable for all but the strongest-willed of men. It took time, and therefore was not always an option when one had to break a prisoner quickly, but everyone broke under isolation eventually. Of course, she had nothing but time. As far as Eusev knew, no one but von Rothbardt knew where he was, nor would anyone miss him, at least not for a very long time. The Inquisition was a highly decentralized organization by design, and Inquisitors often dropped out of contact for years at a time. Nor had he informed anyone outside of his retinue of his plans or whereabouts, and, unless von Rothbardt had lied, the men of his retinue were all dead.
No, no one was coming to rescue him. Nor could he hope to escape, weak as he was. The door to the room, he could see from here, was not even shut all the way, much less locked. The windows were also left slightly ajar, so that fresh air and sunshine could come in. It did not matter. In his weakened condition, the door might as well have been on another planet, for all that he could hope to reach it. He could not even sit up straight.
At first, he had considered it a miracle from the Emperor that he had survived at all. He clearly remembered the tree branch going all the way through him, after all. As the days passed, however, he began to think that the Emperor might better have allowed him to die. He knew he could not hold out much longer. The bell on the nightstand was looking more tempting every hour.
The funny part was that he was suffering all this in the lap of luxury. She might have pled poverty for herself, but von Rothbardt clearly had wealthy "friends," by which Eusev could only assume she meant followers. It was hardly surprising, as he had originally been investigating a Slaaneshite cult among the nobility of this planet. As such, the bed was the softest he could remember sleeping on, the sheets the smoothest. Whenever he slept, which was often, he awoke to find that the tray of food on the nightstand had been replaced. He had grown up accustomed to eating reconstituted protein bars and soylens viridians, and in his travels for the Inquisition, first as an acolyte, then a throne agent, and finally as a full inquisitor himself, he had largely remained accustomed to mean fare. His captor's chef, or whichever chef she had borrowed, was a true artist, or so it seemed to him.
He considered pretending to sleep, and waiting to see who it was who was bringing the food. It might have been a mindless servitor, but if it turned out to be human servant, he or she might give him a chance to relieve the crushing solitude, and perhaps provide useful information, or more besides. But every time he closed his eyes and lay still, he soon found himself drifting off for real, hardly surprising, given his injuries. The one time he managed to stay awake for any length of time, almost two hours, if he could judge by the change in light through the window, no one came. Then when he awoke, a fresh silver tray was sitting on the nightstand.
Finally, he could take no more. Whispering "Emperor forgive me," he reached for the nightstand and rang the bell. He barely had time to wonder how long he would have to wait for her to appear when the door opened and she came in, wheeling a silver service cart of some sort. She was dressed in a different gown this time, this one a cream-yellow sundress. Her hair hung loosely down her back, swaying without any breeze, ripples of blue and purple running through her now-brown, now-blonde locks.
"I'm glad you have finally seen sense," she said, as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you sit up? I should change the dressings on your wounds." With some effort and some help from her, he managed to sit up, and she started unwrapping the bandage around his head. She tilted his head forward and he felt her soft hand prodding gently on the bump on the back of his head. "Hmm, good. The wound is clean, and the swelling has almost all gone down. At first I was worried you might have a serious concussion, but it seems to have been nothing more than a mild bump on the head. The stitches can probably come out soon. With that, she took fresh gauze and began to rebandage his head wound, although she used a much smaller dressing this time.
When she was finished with that, she reached around him and began unwinding the bandages around his chest. Having her so near him had the same effect on him as it had before, and he resisted the temptation to move his hands a few inches so as to touch her body. She seemed totally at ease and not in the least bashful, although she could hardly not have noticed the effect she was having on him. "The good news is that the entrance and exit wounds are both clean. No sign of infection. They're both also scabbing over, though. I'll have to remove that or the stitches will be impossible to get out." She reached onto the cart for a bowl of water and a clean washcloth, and began patting the wounds, removing the scabbing as gently as possible. When she was finished, she took another rag and began patting the wounds dry.
Once she had begun wrapping fresh bandages around him, he asked her "Why do you say it's good news that my wounds aren't infected? I would imagine you'd consider infection a gift from your…'Papa.'"
"Infection is a gift from Papa Nurgle. But so is health. And if you wish to keep enjoying that gift, you'll need a bath."
"You'll have to help me up then."
"Don't be silly. There's no need for you to strain yourself. I'll give you a sponge bath. We can talk while I do." With that, she picked up a large bowl from the cart and walked into what Eusev could only assume was the bathroom. There was the sound of running water, and then she returned, sat back down on the bed, picked up a sponge from the cart, and began to wash him. As she did, she asked "Have you thought about what I said before?"
"I have. And I am prepared to listen to you, and to answer your questions, but you must cease this pretense."
"Pretense? What pretense is that?"
"The pretense that you are the one on trial here, that you are the one whose life hangs in the balance."
"Does that mean that you've decided not to kill me?"
"It means that we both know that you have no intention of just letting me kill you. You're really trying to persuade me to join you, to betray my duty to the Emperor and follow Chaos."
"I try to persuade everyone who will listen to seek freedom, both spiritual and temporal, and to seek the truth and worship the true gods."
"And if you fail, do you expect me to believe that you are just going to let me go free, to hunt you down, along with your followers?"
"They are not my followers; they are my friends. And, as I promised you, you will have no need to hunt me down."
"You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little skeptical of your promise. Believe it or not, yours is not the first Chaos cult I've fought, and your…coreligionists do not, in my experience, just lie down to be killed."
"Oh yes, I'm quite familiar with the way some Chaos-worshippers choose to practice." For the first time she raised her voice. "Do you think we are all killers and torturers? Do you think I feel good at having kil—at having taken the lives of four men?"
"I think you are a priestess of Chaos Undivided. I can only assume that that means you worship Khorne, to whom bloodshed is sacred. So yes, I would think you happy to have shed—what is the phrase—'Blood for the Blood God!'"
"You think you know so much. Yes, I serve Khorne, and yes, all bloodshed is sacred to Khorne. But not all blood is shed through killing, and not all serve Khorne through war."
"Really? So how do you serve Khorne, exactly? You wanted me to listen, well, I'm all ears."
"As a midwife."
He lay there, dumbfounded. She smiled, clearly enjoying the fish-like expression on his face. After several very long seconds, he found his voice. "'As a midwife?' You're not serious, are you?"
"Of course I'm serious. You do realize that women bleed during childbirth, yes? For that matter, you do realize that women undergo great pain, and no small risk of death, when they bring new life into the galaxy? I trust you are not totally ignorant of these matters. Wheresoever any mortal soul shows endurance in the face of pain, courage in the face of death, and sheds her blood for a cause, Khorne is there with her. As I, in my own small way, try to be, for those few whom I can."
"Well then, I shall have to alert my colleagues to begin an investigation into the midwives and nurses of the Imperium. Who knows how many heretics we'll uncover, thanks to the information you've just given me?"
"You would consign billions of innocent women across the galaxy to the flames of the Inquisition, for what? For what crime, exactly? For what harm done?"
"The crime of heresy, of course."
"Well, if you want to uncover Khorne worshippers, you had better investigate the Imperial Guard too. How many billions of soldiers, before they go into battle to face the enemies of your 'Emperor,' whisper prayers to Khorne? If you're not careful, you'll leave your precious Imperium defenseless against its real enemies."
"Do you deny that Chaos is a real threat to the Imperium? Do you seriously deny that the Traitor Legions are a real enemy?"
"Only because you've driven them to it! Horus never betrayed the Emperor! Everything you think you know about the so-called Horus Heresy is a lie. 'History' written by the victors."
"So you implied before. So tell me, what really happened, if you know so much?"
"No. You tell me. When your father left you in charge of your brothers and sisters, you enjoyed having power over them, or so you told me. How did they feel about it?"
"Why don't you just tell me what you are getting at, because I think I already know."
"The younger ones were probably the most biddable, were they not? But the elder, the ones closest to you in age, probably resented having you in charge, didn't they?"
"And I suppose you mean to tell me that it was the other Primarchs who resented Horus' elevation."
"Some of them, yes. One above all others."
"Which one?"
"Come, you were doing so well. Can't you guess?"
"If everything I think I know about the Heresy is a lie, as you claim, how am I to guess? On the basis of what information?"
"What you've been told about the 'Heresy' is a lie. What you know about human nature, what you've learned as an Inquisitor, is not. Think. Which of your brothers and sisters most resented your elevation over them? The ones closest to you in age. The ones who saw themselves as rightfully your equals, or even superiors. The one who most resented the elevation of Horus was the one who thought that he should command his brothers. The one who thought that he was the greatest of the Primarchs, his legion the greatest of the legions."
"I see what you are aiming at, and—"
"The one who named his legion the Ultramarines."
"Nonsense. Roboute Guilliman did not resent Horus' elevation. Horus only thought he did."
"Really? According to whom?"
"All the historical accounts of the era say so."
"And who wrote those accounts? Which of them interviewed Horus to ask him what he thought Guilliman felt?"
"So how do you know what you claim to know? What accounts do you trust?"
"It's true, there are stories passed down among followers of the True Way. But I believe them because they make sense. The standard Imperial accounts, that claim that Guilliman did not resent Horus' elevation, were all written after the war, when Guilliman ruled the Imperium, and controlled the writing of the history. Doesn't it sound like the account protests a little too much? Why the need to emphasize that Guilliman did not resent Horus's elevation? Because he needed people to believe that he didn't."
"So that's your evidence that Guilliman was the traitor and not Horus? Because he called his legion the Ultramarines and said that he never resented having to obey his brother? Is that all you have."
"There's more. Do you know the story of Guilliman's early life, how he came to rule Macragge before the Emperor came?"
"I'm sure you're going to tell me it's all lies, but he was adopted by one of the consuls of Macragge, Konor Guilliman, and grew up to be a great soldier."
"Go on. What happened then?"
"While Roboute was leading an expedition to bring the barbarians living in the wilderness areas of the planet under the control of the government, Konor's co-consul, Galan, led a rebellion to seize power for himself. Konor led the defense of the Senate house personally, and held off the rebels, but was badly wounded in the process. Eventually Roboute returned to the capital from his expedition, learned what was happening, defeated Galan and his rebels, and raised the siege of the Senate. Konor Guilliman died of his wounds, and with Galan also dead, that left Roboute in sole control of Macragge. So what?"
"Really? You don't see? Leaving aside how convenient it was that the lawful consuls just happened to eliminate each other while Guilliman was out of the city, do you really not see that that's the exact same story as the Horus Heresy? Change the names Konor, Galan, and Senate house to Emperor, Horus, and Terra, and it's the exact same plot. Or perhaps I should say the exact same scheme. You don't find that the least bit hard to swallow?"
"Even if I were to accept, for the sake of argument, that that were too much of a coincidence to accept, how could Roboute Guilliman have arranged it? How could he just happened to know that Horus would rebel and attack Terra, and how did he arrange his arrival just in time?"
"I already told you, Horus never rebelled. It was Roboute Guilliman and his cronies, especially Leman Russ and Sanguinius."
"Sanguinius! Now I know you are lying. Sanguinius was Horus' best friend. Why would he join a conspiracy against both him and the Emperor?"
"He didn't, not against Horus, at least. As for why he betrayed the Emperor, Roboute tricked him."
"How?"
"Do you know who the Thunder Warriors were?"
"Yes. They were the Emperor's first genetically modified super-soldiers, used to win the Wars of Unification on Holy Terra."
"And what became of them?"
"The last of them died in the final battle of the Unification."
"Yes, but what really happened?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." The expression on his face made it clear he knew exactly what she meant.
"Surely you don't mean to say that the truth is unknown to the Inquisition? The Thunder Warriors were betrayed and murdered by their own creator, once they had fulfilled their purpose."
"How did you know that?"
"Few secrets can hide from a seeker after truth. But you already knew what became of the Thunder Warriors. And the Primarchs knew it too. How they found out, I'm not certain. Some say that Konrad Curze saw it in one of his dreams, and told his brothers. Others say that the Emperor simply let them know, as a not-so-veiled threat. The important thing is that they knew, and they knew why. Do you?"
"Because the Thunder Warriors were created only for war. They could not function in a society at peace. Once Unification was achieved, they themselves became a threat to the new order they had built."
"Getting Sanguinius to turn on his master was simple. Guilliman had somehow discovered the existence of the Blood Angels' Flaw, and that, outside the Blood Angels and himself, only Horus knew of it. He met with Sanguinius, and told him that Horus he had learned of the Flaw from Horus, who had revealed to him that he had also told the Emperor. Guilliman also told him that the Emperor had decided that, with the Great Crusade winding down, the time had come to eliminate those Legions whose propensity toward mutation made them unsuitable for the new, peaceful future that was coming. He had already begun by sending the Space Wolves to destroy the Thousand Sons. Of course, it was Guilliman who had sent Russ, his chief co-conspirator, to do away with Magnus and his Legion; the Emperor had nothing to do with it."
"I still don't believe you. Why would Roboute Guilliman and Leman Russ want to do all this? Surely they were not in thrall to Chaos!"
"Do you think a man must worship Chaos to be a traitor? I already told you that billions of loyal Imperial citizens secretly worship Chaos. Does it not follow that one who worships tyranny and oppression could be a traitor?"
"That still doesn't explain why they did it."
"Guilliman did it for the reasons I already told you. He resented that Horus had been raised over him, and, more fundamentally, he resented that anyone was above him. He wanted to rule the galaxy himself, as he had earlier wanted to rule Macragge. It will not escape your notice that he succeeded in both cases, and by essentially the same stratagem."
"But why would Russ help him?"
"Because he hated psykers. That part of the false history is quite true. That made it easy for Guilliman to persuade him to attack Prospero."
"But why would he want to betray the Emperor?"
"Didn't you just hear what I said? Why would you think a man filled with burning hatred for all psykers would make an exception for the mightiest psyker of them all?"
Eusev was quiet. "I once heard it said, back when I was still an acolyte, that the forces of Chaos tempt men to corruption not only with lies, but also with terrible, maddening truths. I see now just how true that was. Part of me can't stand to hear what you say, but that is because I see how much sense it makes. Your tale has the ring of truth, but that truth is a burden too hard to bear."
She leaned over and stroked his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his brow. "Eusev, I don't wish to hurt you. Believe me, I have never wished to hurt anyone. But the truth is not terrible, and it is no burden. Just the opposite: the truth will set you free. It is the lie that enslaves you."
"Please, just finish your tale."
"There is not much more to tell. Sanguinius believed that the Emperor was about to move to destroy him and his Legion, so he decided to strike first. He gathered his entire Legion and immediately set out for Terra. He arrived and attacked without warning, overrunning most of the outer defenses quite quickly. When Horus and the other Primarchs heard, they were shocked, but Horus immediately gathered all the forces he could, and set out for Earth to raise the siege. He arrived too late to stop Sanguinius from murdering the Emperor, but he ordered an attack on the Blood Angels, who now held the Imperial Palace."
She stopped speaking for a moment and took a sip of water before continuing. "Much of the account of the battle of the Imperial Palace is basically accurate, except inverted. The Blood Angels really were defending the Palace against the attack of Horus. The vast majority of the Mechanicum supported Horus, of course; it is hardly credible that the Fabricator General himself and most of the tech-priests on Mars would turn traitor practically under the Emperor's nose, although that was the story that had to be told later. Likewise, Guilliman and Russ would later give out that the reason the Emperor was never seen during the battle was that he was trapped on the Golden Throne, holding the portal closed against the daemons of the Warp. Horus really did kill Sanguinius, although on Earth, not aboard the Vengeful Spirit. Nevertheless, the battle continued, with both sides sustaining heavy losses."
"Just then, the Ultramarines and Space Wolves arrived. Horus thought they had come as reinforcements. His men cheered when they saw them landing. Then Guilliman attacked. His and Russ' Legions were the hammer, and the Blood Angels still holding the Palace were the anvil. They killed Horus and slaughtered most of his forces. The survivors fled, to the one place in the galaxy where they could be sure they would not be pursued, the Eye of Terror. With Guilliman now firmly in control, he could order the Astropaths present on Terra to spread whatever story he liked to the rest of the Imperium. He used his own betrayal of Horus on Terra as the basis for the tale of the 'Drop Site Massacre.'"
"The rest you know, more or less. Guilliman propped his father's corpse up on a yellow chair, and told the rest of the galaxy that he had ascended to godhood. The man who had tried to destroy all religion was now to be worshipped himself. Perverse, but he knew that claiming to rule in the name of this new god would grant him greater legitimacy than simply ruling on his own authority. He created the Inquisition, originally to hunt down anyone who knew the truth or might guess it, although he spun a tale that Malcador had created it at the behest of the Emperor. And that was that. Guilliman ruled the galaxy. As a gift to Russ for his help, Guilliman banned almost all use of psychic powers; of course, he claimed that the Emperor had so ordered at the Council of Nikaea, a totally fictitious event. That, incidentally, was why he claimed it occurred on such an isolated and unsettled world as Nikaea—a place that made no sense as the location for an important conference—since that would explain why no one had heard of this before. Not that it was all that difficult to get most people to believe it, as most people hated and feared psykers, then as now."
A heavy silence hung in the air between them after that. Finally, Eusev spoke: "As I said, everything you say makes logical sense. The story has the ring of truth, and you are right that the received history makes no sense. But how can you be certain that you are right? Is this just the received history among the followers of Chaos? Did you just piece this together based on what seemed logical to you? What proof do you have?"
"I can give you proof, if you will let me."
"What proof is that?"
"You know why the Emperor left the Great Crusade and returned to Terra?"
"To work on the Imperial Webway project. He had only finished a small section of it before Magnus—"
"Before Magnus what? Broke it? Eusev, the section of Webway the Emperor built is still intact. It has been for ten thousand years. It is possible to travel, in spirit form, through the Great Ocean, to see it. I will teach you the sorcery needed to do so, if you will let me. That is my proof."
"I—I must think on that. It's not that—it's just—I don't know if—"
"Relax. It's not a spell that could be learned in one night anyway, and if you do wish to learn sorcery, we should wait until you are fully healed. For now, I imagine you must be tired and hungry. I certainly am. If you'll excuse me for a while, I shall go prepare dinner. I hope you've been finding my cooking palatable."
"That was your cooking? I assumed that whoever lent you this house lent you his chef as well."
At this, she smiled, for the first time since she came in the room. "Eusev, I told you, we are alone in this house."
"You also told me that you owned only that one grey dress, and yet here I find you wearing a yellow one."
"I did not lie. The owners of this house do let me raid their closets. As I said, I have generous friends. Now shh, rest, let me go cook."
Later, after an excellent dinner eaten in companionable silence, as Medeana put his tray back on the service cart, Eusev found himself drifting off to sleep. It would not be untroubled.
To be continued….
