Festum Gladius Chapter 16

Novak waited in the Chapter Master's Minaret. He was still clad only in his tunic, having returned to the Fortress-Monastery mere hours earlier. He had voxed a confidential report to Phalros and had expected a prompt response. He had certainly got it, barely had he disembarked the gunship when a pair of Honour Guards had arrived, axes in hand and Eagle faceplates glowering, to sweep him away. There hadn't even been time to don his armour.

He was currently sitting in an antechamber at the top level of the minaret. It was a sumptuous abode, doubtless used to fete visiting dignitaries. There were lavish furnishings, decanters of wine and artworks of the Storm Herald's many victories upon the walls, subtly embellished for mortal consumption and stripped of all the guts and body parts usually seen on a battlefield. It was indeed a fine room, but that didn't change the fact that it felt like a gaol.

Novak glanced at the door where an Honour Guard waited. Unlike him the nameless warrior wore his full plate and carried his weapons openly and Novak was sure he was willing to use them. He didn't understand why he was being detained so, he was sure he had done nothing wrong but the urgency of his summons and the guard on the door was ominous. Novak had the worrying sensation that he was in trouble, the chill down the back of his neck telling him an undefined danger lurked nearby.

Novak was worried but he was determined not to show it and called out, "Fancy a sniff of Amasec?"

The Honour Guard didn't reply, merely holding his axe steadily. So Novak continued, "Suit yourself."

He stood up and wandered over to a sideboard and poured himself a glass of the peaty drink. It couldn't get him drunk but the taste was an improvement on the usual fare an Astartes lived on. He savoured it on his tongue, as a show of indifference to his guard, and let the sup bite the back of his throat as he swallowed. He lifted the glass to his eye and said, "You'd think they'd put out the good stuff for visitors."

Again the guard didn't reply so Novak wandered over the armourglass window and remarked, "I can see half the island from up here. All those lights blinking away, each a life tending to its duties. As an aspirant I used to like looking upon it at night and imagining it was a map of the galaxy. each light a world, every stretch of darkness a Traitor enclave. I thought I would conquer them all, driving out the darkness with the Light of the Emperor. That was when Samect still ran the Chaplaincy and tried to beat into our heads notions of divinity and Gods. Never sat right with me, I always thought my swordwork was more important. Where did you fight in the civil war? You must have been there, were you with us at the final charge of the Dreadnoughts or were you locked away in the dungeons? Maybe you were absent in orbit or…"

Suddenly the guard spoke, "They're ready, come with me." Novak put his glass down and followed into the next room, where he met the senior commanders of the Storm Heralds. Sitting around a table were Chapter Master Phalros, his patrician features stern and his armour gleaming. To his right First Captain Jemiel loomed over the table, his expression disapproving. To the left Tenth-Captain Nimodes sat, his face worried as he tugged at his sideburns. There was one other present, a Firstborn Librarian Novak didn't recognise. He wore armour covered in sigils of flame and anvils and his gauntlets were scorched black. He carried no weapon Novak could see but his belt was hung with scrolls and heavy keys. His face was the heavily tanned complexion of Lujan II's equatorial tribes and he had forked beard that hung under his chin, while his bald head gleamed. There was a dangerous light in his eyes, like he was about to spring into battle and detested sitting still.

Phalros greeted them, "Novak, thank you for waiting so patiently. My guard, you are dismissed."

The Honour Guard departed but Novak was sure he heard the warrior mutter, "He never bloody shuts up, I think my ears are bleeding."

Unabashed Novak took the only remaining chair, he felt outmatched as the only one not in armour but boldly said, "Thank you for seeing me, I take it my report reached you."

Phalros gestured at the unknown Librarian and said, "This is Codicer Wela, since Chief Librarian Echeb is absent Wela will sit in his place. Now to business, we have received your report and find it disturbing. Most disturbing."

"Inflammatory bile," Jemiel spat, "I can't believe you would report such fantasies."

Novak bristled as he said, "I swear every word is true."

Jemiel snorted, "You chatter so much it is impossible to discern what is true and what is not. I said you would be a poor champion. More than likely you made this up."

Novak's anger stirred and he growled, "Are you calling me a liar?!"

Hastily Nimodes stepped in and said, "Novak is many things but a liar he is not. If he says this is true, then it is so."

Jemiel didn't sound reassured as he sniffed, "I'll believe that when I see it."

Novak was about to retort but suddenly Wela spoke, "Believe it, we sent out search parties the second the report came in. They have found the bodies; the champions of the Smoke Jaguars, Fire Lords and Imperial Fists are dead. This cannot be denied. Sadly we have no evidence to support the rest of the report, there is no sign of any other attacker, no tracks, no blood or genic traces. Every scrap of proof points to them killing each other. Cato Sicarius is outraged and has taken the investigation in hand personally. He knows not of your report… yet."

Phalros drew in a slow breath and said, "A tragedy but not unprecedented. The feud between those two Chapters is ancient and Space Marines have died in duels many times."

Novak's jaw dropped as he protested, "Are you saying you don't believe me?!"

Wela replied steadily, "We are saying there is no proof to support your claim. And no suspects."

"I heard the account from Cranicus' own lips!" Novak argued.

Jemiel snorted, "A paranoid story of murder and assassins, from a dying Astartes. Hardly convincing."

Novak hissed in outrage, "You besmirch the honour of the Imperial Fists. A First Founding Chapter."

Jemiel's lip curled but Phalros stepped in to say, "Consider the facts. On the one hand we have a mountain of evidence telling us one thing. On the other we have the ramblings of a dying Space Marine, possibly delirious and hallucinating. We accept you speak the truth as you know it but you are only telling us what he told to you, you did not witness the fight yourself. Second-hand accounts will not suffice if you are to make accusations against someone."

Unfortunately Novak saw the logic in that but Nimodes argued, "I believe it is true."

"You do?!" Novak yelped in surprise.

Nimodes elaborated, "Were it only two champions I would brush it off as a feud gone too far. But Cranicus' presence throws that out of alignment. No way would he had fallen in such a scuffle, not in a million years. I read the part about his murder being unplanned and I am inclined to agree. I suspect he stumbled onto the scene unexpectedly and the killers had to improvise. A critical error."

"Pure speculation," Jemiel snorted.

But Phalros said, "Let us examine the hypothetical that Novak is correct, some unknown killer is at large, undermining the Feast of Blades. The questions then become who and why?"

Nimodes mused, "Hypothetically it could be another Champion, or his comrades. Working to eliminate the competition."

Wela chewed his lip and said, "It is hard to see how anyone else could benefit from such a foul deed."

Jemiel looked annoyed but reluctantly said, "I suppose it makes sense to remove the Smoke Jaguars and Fire Lords, their feud would make for a secure cover. Few shall doubt they would kill each other. Hypothetically speaking."

Novak watched their back and forth in disbelief and then spat, "Why are we all dancing around the truth, we're all thinking the same name. There's only one person with the means, access, foreknowledge and ambition to pull this off: Cato Sicarius."

Nimodes, Wela and Phalros twitched, revealing they had indeed been thinking such a thing but hadn't wanted to say it out loud. Jemiel however slammed a fist onto the table and shouted, "You dare accuse the great Hero Cato Sicarius of deceit and murder! His nobility is beyond reproach!"

Novak glared back at him and snorted, "If Cato Sicarius is a hero then I'm a grot. He's an arrogant glory-hog at best, a smug devil at worst. He hasn't risen this high without being willing to get his hands dirty. Under that shining legend he's as ruthless and pitiless as any blood-soaked Astartes in the galaxy."

Wela butted in, "But does not explain why, what would be his motive?"

Nimodes mused, "He is utterly determined to keep the Victrix Guard purely Ultramarines…"

"You believe this tripe?!" Jemiel spat.

Nimodes replied, "I believe that a half-dozen Feast of Blades have come and gone since the Crusade started and not once has a non-Ultramarine won a place at the Primarch's side. Does that seem likely? Are the sons of Macragge truly so much better than everyone else or have they been receiving clandestine help from the shadows? Cato Sicarius would be ideally placed to manoeuvre events to favour his own Champion, it is no great leap to think he would stoop to eliminating the competition too."

Phalros rubbed his jaw as he considered, "Cato has been driven in arranging the Feast of Blades, my input has been sidelined on many occasions. There is much I do not see in the arrangements, many mortals coming and going at odd hours to make preparations."

Jemiel sneered, "Don't tell me you're taking their side."

But Phalros retorted, "I take no sides nor am I swayed by speculation and hearsay, I rule the Storm Heralds according to the bounds of the Lex Imperialis. I will not unleash baseless accusations against one of the Imperium's most vaunted heroes without undeniable evidence. But neither will I ignore a potential threat to one of our Brothers, and the other Chapters we host. We must investigate this further, even if to prove it mere fantasy, but we must do so quietly and with tact."

Nimodes sighed, "You're right, without hard evidence we can do nothing. If we accuse him falsely, or cannot make a charge stick, then our honour will be in tatters. The Storm Heralds can ill-afford to make an enemy such as Cato Sicarius, without due cause."

Novak eyed Wela and said, "Couldn't the Librarians poke about in his head and dig out the truth?"

"No," Wela said flatly.

"But you routinely root through our heads to look for Chaos taint," Novak protested.

"Chaos is chaos," Wela replied bluntly, "This is something else entirely. To steal into the mind of another Chapter's hero, to pilfer his thoughts without consent would be an insult of the highest order. I cannot simply skim his mind, I would have to probe deeply and that leaves traces any Librarian could detect. If I touch Cato Sicarius' mind, or any of his attendants without permission it would be as declaring war on Macragge itself."

Phalros sighed, "I doubt it would work anyway, whoever did this would surely take precautions against psychic intrusion. If they have the resources to pull off undetectable murder, psionic wards on all involved would be an essential safeguard."

"So we do nothing?" Novak spluttered.

"I never said that," Phalros countered, "At the moment nobody outside this room knows of your report and we shall see it remains that way. You shall return to the Feast and prepare for the next trial. Speak to no one of our discussion and if asked, say only that you found the bodies already dead, breathe not a word of Cranicus' tale. With fair fortune none will think you suspect anything and you will be able to watch the other Champions carefully."

Novak stated, "I'll be watching Cato Sicarius like a hawk."

But Wela overrode him, "Do not make assumptions, an Arbites does not stop investigating a crime at the first suspect. Distrust all, assume everyone you speak to is lying and be wary of anything you see."

Novak nodded, "And while I'm watching the Champions what will you be doing?"

"Investigating everyone else," Phalros said, "Nimodes shall have scout-novices trailing the mortal attendants and observing their every move."

"I'll tell the Neophytes it's a harmless training exercise," Nimodes affirmed, "Just in case anyone asks inconvenient questions."

Phalros agreed, "Jemiel and I shall be watching our guests, sooner or later someone will slip up and reveal something they shouldn't and we shall be there to see it."

Jemiel muttered, "This still sits ill with me."

"Then do it to prove the accusation nothing but baseless gossip," Phalros said, "But everybody must be circumspect. As of now our only advantage is that the killers, if they exist, have no idea we suspect them. We must ensure it remains so."

Novak nodded as the meeting broke up. In his hearts he was worried but at last he had an outlet for his angst. He was going to get to the bottom of this and root out whoever had killed Cranicus and the others. No matter who they were or where they lurked he would find them and kill them. Even if that meant going up against Cato Sicarius himself.