Chapter 33: Clergy
Lord General Militant Flavius Titus spoke for a very long time.
He wasn't a boring speaker, however, so I hadn't realised how much time had gone by until my stomach started rumbling. But once he was done, to much applause and cheering from the zealous crowds, a gaggle of Colonels came up to speak after him, the respective leaders of each particular regiment, and they were…less exciting. Not truly dull, but it was a hard act to follow.
Then, there were other speakers, priests and field commanders and navy officers and Commissars, and they all started to blur together into one big mess after a while. Once an eternity had passed, or at the very least, what felt like one, we were told to return to our duties, and the fanatical prayers and chants resumed their cacophony over the speakers. Alexei got the chance to lead us in more marching practise as we began the laborious process of dispersing, the crowds energy buzzing around us. Even though we'd likely stood for hours, everyone seemed to be thrilled, as though they were completely intoxicated by the speeches they'd just listened to, high on the raging passion of zealous fanaticism.
It was a long, long time before we made it back to our barracks, after a rather dismal dinner, since it turned out we'd been standing around listening to speeches and practising parade marches for the better part of a day!
We stripped out of our dress uniforms, taking great care to store them with careful finesse and delicacy, then hit the showers. Desmond, thankfully, didn't seem quite so perverted, likely because he was too tired to be an ass, so we were washed and cleaned without incident. Alexei gave us one of his trademark speeches, and then it was time to sleep.
I dreamt of dried grass and gumtrees and a bright yellow sun.
The next day, we woke up and went through the usual routines, and when Alexei came by, he told us we would need our fancy dress uniforms again. This time, it was for a church service, something which seemed to please Egeers no end. In fact, everyone seemed enthused by this news, even Desmond, if only a little. I knew they were all religious, and, this being the Imperium, who wasn't, but aside from a few muttered prayers before meals, which I managed to get through by whispering the Lord's prayer, and the occasional blessings, there were few signs they were especially religious people. Egeers was the most devout, no doubt about it, as I had heard him praying every morning and every night, but the others…I rarely saw much sign.
Our breakfast came and went in unusually high spirits, as a second day without training delighted us no end. Even Desmond couldn't find something to complain about. Then, Alexei sent us back to our room, where we changed into our dress clothes, and awaited the sergeant.
I had no idea what to expect, but it wasn't probably going to be a very entertaining experience. Uncomfortable and awkward, more like it. Still, I was rather eager to see more Imperial architecture, especially if it was a cathedral. That would be a sight to behold.
However, I was rather pessimistic about how cramped it would likely be. Given how packed the parade was yesterday, and how long we had to wait around for the damn thing to go anywhere, I wasn't that optimistic about this being any better. Fortunately, my fears were quickly dispelled, when Alexei informed us that every level on the ship had numerous chapels to perform religious ceremonies, each one holding a few hundred people.
That was no small relief.
Sergeant Alexei guided us through the ships labyrinthine corridors without hesitation, through the numerous branching corridors, halls and stairways, into a section of the ship that looked like it was meant to be carved into a mountainside then built into a ship. Taking us down a huge set of marble and gold stairs, scuffed and dirtied by centuries of foot traffic, we passed under a huge array of banners, bearing the iconography of the Ecclesiarchy. Huge murals decorated the walls and the floor, and giant braziers of flame lined the walls. Lanterns with stained glass housings hung from chains on the roof, and the soft hymns of monks drifted in from open doors and from wall mounted speakers.
Eventually, we reached a large circular room, packed with other squads, the same ones we were alongside at the parade yesterday. Our platoon.
"Ah, there he is, the sour chap, Alexei old boy," Andermark smiled, waving his cigar around. Alexei grimaced and chose not to reply, simply waving at us to stand against the wall. Andermark, however, was not so easily deterred.
"Ha, we got to see the Lord General himself yesterday, ain't that an honour, huh?" Andermark grunted, and this time, Alexei smiled, something we had only ever seen him do on a mere handful of occasions. I guess they must really love that man. It was easy to see way. He commanded absolute respect and adoration from the people under his command, all several million of them.
"So, your squad like their first taste of proper honour, eh?" Andermark grunted, looking at us questioningly. Alexei spoke before any of us could answer.
"I do not know. I did not ask them. What they feel is irrelevant. My job is to make them into good soldiers, not ask how they feel," he replied icily. Andermark coughed, choking on his cigar.
"Didn't…didn't ask them!?" He shouted, drawing the attention of half the room, which he ignored.
"Didn't ask them…good man, why didn't you?"
"What they feel is irrelevant to me," Alexei replied coldly. Damn, so he really doesn't give a shit about us. I'm not looking forward to seeing what he orders us to do on the battlefield.
"Men who say that end up getting killed by their men, more often then not," Andermark said slowly, as if it wasn't obvious. Alexei grunted.
"If they'd kill me before the enemy, we'd have bigger problems," he said bluntly. Andermark just spluttered something incomprehensible, until a third sergeant came over to us, a rather dour looking women with spiky brown hair.
"Alexei. Andermark. Good to see you're getting along as usual," she said, causing both of them to groan.
"Dominika. I see you got up on the right side of the coffin today," Alexei replied, causing everyone in the squad to raise their eyebrows in disbelief. Was that a…joke? From Alexei? Alexei could make jokes?
Truly, this was a crazy universe.
"Ah, yes, very funny, just like the first seven hundred and thirty-three times you've told that joke," Dominika replied. Andermark chuckled.
"And it will be funny another seven hundred and thirty-three more times," he laughed, causing Dominika to glare at him. Alexei looked like his composure was a little harder to maintain than usual.
"Perhaps we can ask her tomb-keepers to line her burial with more rocks, it might make her more comfortable," he said, completely straightfaced. Andermark had to stifle a laugh as Dominika continued to glare at him.
"Ha ha, yes, you two are fountains of humour, as always. Hey, Alexei, remember that time you got ambushed in the middle of a piss?"
Ooh, was this trash talk, coming from Cadian sergeants? By this point, the whole squad was leaning in, struggling not to laugh, some of us doing better then others. Prassus looked fit to burst, and Temond had gone very red in the face.
"I remember how quickly you were to come to my aid. Eager to see me, where you?" Alexei said, smiling maliciously.
"You didn't seem to be," Dominika snapped back, smirking just as evilly.
"HA HA! The golden ambush! Oh, that was a great time!" Andermark laughed, wrapping both sergeants in his arms and laughing merrily, which neither of them seemed to appreciate.
"Wasn't a great time for Alexei's pants," Dominika said, and Alexei grimaced.
"It expedited the process tremendously," he said bluntly, causing all three of them to laugh out loud. This had moved from funny and into the uncanny valley now. Alexei had laughed and smiled and joked more in the last minute then he had all week. In fact, it seemed like there was an entirely different person in him, one that only appeared when he was with other sergeants. Holy shit, was Alexei actually a funny guy underneath that uncompromising exterior?
Whatever other oddities we might have seen were cut off when a set of golden doors on the other side of the room opened, and a group of robed men stepped out, waving censers about, white smoke pouring from the golden orbs.
"By his golden grace, we bid you welcome, wandering souls," a loud, yet gentle, voice called out.
"Come, enter our halls, and join us in prayer," the robed men intoned, faces hidden under grey hoods. Alexei suddenly snapped back into his usual self, motioning for us to line up behind him. Andermark tossed his cigar to the floor and crushed it underfoot, and Dominika strutted off to her squad.
"Come, enter our halls, and join us in worship," the robed men droned, raising their arms up and letting the censers dangle in front of them.
"We accept your welcome," the closest sergeant said, bowing, and his squad followed suite. One by one, each squad stepped up in front of the doors, bowed, and was ushered inside. Following along like everyone else, I kept my head down so as not to draw attention to myself, but when I stepped into the chapel, I couldn't help but look around. It wasn't especially massive or expansive, nor especially elaborate, but…but it just felt special. Visually, it was similar to many medieval cathedrals, just with a healthy dose of gold and silver furnishings, and a hell of a lot of skulls, bones and candles.
There were rows of pews, made from carved stone (not especially comfortable), leading up to a staircase of marble and bone, where a large pulpit made from real, genuine wood overlooked a huge stage of solid stone. A row of priests, in robes of white and silver, surrounded a man in golden-white robes, who bore so many decorative icons he looked like a war hero bedecked in medals.
"Come, wondering souls, and find your place," he called out again, smiling at all of us. Well, I'm certainly a wandering soul, but I wasn't especially keen on this whole religious nonsense, even if religion, or rather faith, held some sort of power in this universe.
"Your place is high, among us," intoned the priests in perfect sync. Behind them was a huge stained-glass window displaying what must've been a romanticised image of the Emperor, who looked more like an angelic being then a conquering warlord he was. In fact, I could see no depiction of the Emperor that showed him in his iconic golden armour, or bearing his flaming sword, or even one that seemed to bear a resemblance to his likeness. All of them showed him to be far more beatific, a being of pure golden light, surrounded by a halo of white flame, raising up humanity in his arms.
Well, can't fault them for not having a clear picture of what the Emperor looked like. It'd been ten thousand years since he was around, after all.
"Come, find your place among us," the head priest intoned again, waving us in, and his priests repeated the chant. The squad settled in for the service and resigned myself to having to fake my way through it. Just do what they did, and you should be fine. Don't start tuning them out, pay attention, and don't screw up. No matter how hard these bloody pews were.
The service held vague similarities to a Christian mass, but it was very obvious just how different it was. For one, there was none of this 'peace on Earth' stuff you get in your usual church services. For them, it was more like 'Embrace war, embrace violence, embrace death,' with a healthy dollop of 'Follow the Emperor unquestioningly'.
Initially, I was very confused, because everything the head-priest said, his priests repeated, and only then did the squad seem to react. It took me a few minutes to realise that the head-priest was speaking in High Gothic, and the rest in Low Gothic. Suddenly, I had a terrible realisation of just what this meant. I hadn't had the time nor presence of mind to question how I could understand everyone, and how they could understand me, but suddenly, the true depth of this sunk in. I could understand everyone. Everything. I didn't know how I knew, but I was certain in my gut that I had the power to understand, and presumably speak, every language I came across.
That…that was probably going to be more dangerous then it would be helpful, at least in my immediate future. There was no way I could explain that. My skillset was already suspect enough, add to that what would seem to be an apparent mastery of every language?
Yeah, no way to rationalise that.
So, I had to do what I'd been doing this whole week, which was shut up and go along with things. Thankfully, the service was less boring when you could understand everything being said, as sometimes the head-priest spoke and the others did not translate. There was a great deal of talking about the duty of us as soldiers, upholding the Emperors dream (the irony on that was lost on everyone but me), and serving the Imperium. Then, we were called to be blessed by the priests, who, as it turned out, were confessors.
Kneeling on the steps before the stage, I bowed my head alongside Prassus, as we were called up in pairs. One of the confessors, a kindly looking old man, smiled down at me as he rubbed oil into my hair, muttering blessings the whole time.
"Guard this soul, oh blessed Emperor, for he is lost, and wondering, and adrift, and seeks a path to walk. Guide him to this path, oh blessed Emperor, for he is lost, and he is searching, but he cannot find it without you. Oh blessed Emperor, guard this soul against peril, guard this soul against harm, guard this soul and bless his body, for he is your servant, now and forever," the man intoned, waving his hands over me, making some sort of warding gestures. I was too distracted by what he had said to pay much attention.
What he had just said sounded far too pertinent to be coincidental. Was this the blessing everyone got? I could not hear what they saying to Prassus, in fact, I could barely hear what they were saying to me, and, more annoyingly, I knew they were doing so in High Gothic, so I couldn't exactly ask him afterwards.
It was unsettling, to say the least. I was definitely a lost soul, wondering and adrift. I was definitely wondering why I was here, and what brought me here, and why. There had to be a purpose, right? Was the Emperor really behind this? Was this his doing?
The kindly old man locked eyes with me, his eyes seemingly containing all the wisdom of the universe. He looked directly at me, the real me, not this façade I had built up since arrival, and spoke the following words.
"The Emperor guides those who remain true to themselves, lost soul. Guard yourself against damnation, and his guidance will come."
Authors notes:
What could this mean?
Aside from that little curiosity, here we start to see just how bonkers the Imperium actually is, and this is just some paltry, entry level stuff. We're slowly starting to see just how over the top the Imperium is, and soon, we will start to see the darker side to this fanaticism and religious zealotry.
Plus, we've gotten some confirmation as to when this is all taking place (vaguely), and some insights into a different side of Alexei's character. Clearly, he isn't just a stern face and some harsh words, he's got his own stories to tell…if he cares to tell them, that is. And we get to see the other people in the platoon, who will slowly be introduced into the story.
The groundwork is just about set.