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“You seem very jolly this morning。”
Kautas sat down beside Marquall。 “An illusion； I assure you。 I’m the very same noxious bastard
as I was yesterday。”
Kautas slid a metal flask from his robe pocket and selled liquor。 The priest
didn’t offer any to him。
“Ah；” said Marquall。
“Ah what？”
“Nothing。”
“Sounded to me like you’d had some great epiphany； fly…boy。”
“My name is Vander Marquall。 And no； it wasn’t a… whatever you just said。 I just realised why
you were in a better mood。”
“Really？”
“Really。”
“Enlighten me； Vander Marken。”
“Marquall。 If you start drinking at breakfast； father； no wonder you’re happy by nine o’clock。”
Kautas chuckled and took another swig。 “Who said I started drinking at breakfast？ That’s the
behaviour of a hopeless drunkard。 Young man； I started drinking many years ago。”
Marquall shook his head。 “With respect； what are you doing here？”
97
“I saw you here； alone on the beach； looking pissed off； so I thought I’d come and share your
gloom。 I have an appetite for melancholy。”
“I meant here。 Enothis。 Lake Gocel。”
Kautas prised a pebble from the shoreline mud and tossed it out into the lake。 He had a good
arm。 It went a long way； and sent a ripple out across the oily green water。
“Why did that stone land there？” Kautas asked。
“You threw it。”
“Yes but…” his voice trailed off。 “No； you’re right。 I threw it。 It’s too bloody early for clever
philosophical analogies。 Or too late。 Whatever。 I’m here because this is where I stopped。 It’s a
matter I intend to bring up with the God…Emperor； when at last I am granted celestial audience
before the Golden Throne as part of the Beati’s magnificent host。”
“Good luck。”
“Luck has nothing to do with it。 It’s all about faith。”
“You don’t seem to have much； father。 You seem very… bitter。”
“Do I？ How crap is that？ I meant to supply spiritual reinforcement to this station。 And medical
assistance。 Actually； I think the latter is why they sent me here。 I was a medicae first； before I
became an ayatani。”
Marquall looked at him。 “Take it from me； you’re not excelling at either。”
“Yeah； well…” sighed Kautas。 “Stuff you too。”
They sat in silence for a long moment。 Scops hissed around them。 At length； Kautas cleared his
throat and said； “Go on； then。 Test my worth。 What’s this mood about？”
Marquall smiled sourly。 “A plane。 A woman。”
“Planes I don’t do；” said Kautas。 “Noisy great buggers。 Can’t help you there。 Women； more my
field。 Spurned？ Unrequited？ Inadequate？”
“Whoah； whoah… the first。 Spurned。 Last night she was all over me like a body bag。 This
morning—”
“Well； you must learn to get over it…”
“I hadn’t finished。”
“Well。 Uhm。 Even given that； just get over it。”
“Get over it？”
Kautas nodded sagely。
“Father； you’re really bad at this。”
“Am I？ Shit。”
There was another long pause。 Kautas helped himself to another swig。
“Okay then；” Marquall said。 “You go。 Why are you so screwed up？”
Kautas scratched his head； then sighed。 At length； he said； “Because I wanted to be there。 Right
there。 When she came back。 And I can’t； because I’m stuck here。”
“Who？” Marquall asked。
“The Beati； Vander Marquall。 The Beati。”
Over the desert； 09。32
They came in low and hard； engines really cooking。 Jagdea was pleased to see that they’d shaved
nearly a minute off the projected intercept time。
Raptor Flight had found a retreat convoy in the open desert； and had been watching over it when
an attack had thundered in。 Stalk tanks and heavier tread armour； fully powered and fuelled； coming
up hard on the limping Imperial group。
The Raptors had already loosed their rocket complement； securing some decent kills。 Burning
armour wreckage littered the dunes。
98
“Good to see you； Umbra；” voxed Raptor One。 “We could do with a little more Hellstrike over
here。”
“Roger that leader。 Coming around；” Jagdea replied。
The Raptors； which had been doing their damnedest with cannon runs； pulled off high； leaving
the air open for Umbra。 The Raptors were stark； black machines。 They had refused a respray on
arrival at Gocel。 It was a pride thing； apparently。
Beloing across the desert； lurching over dunes； firing
shot after shot from their main weapons at the scurrying Imperials。
Jagdea saw a Chimera go up； and a Hydra platform shred into flames。 Blast vapour sheened the
air： white smoke trails； puffs of chalky flare from barrel discharges； rising scuds of black flamesmoke
from wrecks。
Sporadic tracer fire rose from the enemy AA carriers。
“Let’s get lucky；” Jagdea said。
Van Tull went in first； whipping through the mosaic of smoke and vapour。 Tracer shot laddered
over at him； falling short。 He loosed his missile load and pulled out hard at the same moment。
A blitz of flame lit up the desert floor。 Two enemy tanks atomised； their warloads kicking off。
Del Ruth was right on his tail； snaking in。 She flew edgy； nicking around the flares of flak。 Her
rockets seared out； and crippled a tank； shredding off its tracks。 Instead of pulling out； she stayed
low and opened up with her quad…cannons； raking a troop carrier to bits。 Then she pulled out wide；
whooping over the vox。
Jagdea barrel…rolled onto the approach； setting her wing…load live。 She felt like heaving； but
suppressed her stomach。
A tank… too close。 Another； lined up。 She let it slide through her scope and fired。 On twists of
white smoke； her rockets lit off。
She was already rising off the targets when the tank detonated。
She came up long。 Right into the bats。
Lake Gocel FSB； 09。33
Kautas sniffed thoughtfully。 “Do you know what’s happening on Herodor right now？” he asked。
“Herodor？ Where’s that？”
“Down in the Khan Group； about nine weeks from here。”
Marquall shrugged。 “No idea。 More fighting？”
Kautas sighed。 “It’s a trait I’ve often observed in the—excuse me saying this—common fighting
man。 He seems to have precious little idea of the big picture。 Of the great scheme of things。 He
seems content to leave that to tacticians and nobility； and the priesthood。”
“The common fighting man tends to have a lot of filings to occupy his immediate attention；”
said Marquall。
Kautas smiled。 “Fair point。”
“Isn’t the true calling of the Imperial warrior to serve and fight？ Not to question？” asked
Marquall。
“Yes。 But a little curiosity never went astray。 Why are you fighting？”
“To wrest Enothis back from the clutches of the Archenemy。”
“Of course。 And beyond that？”
“To… to prosecute the great Crusade and liberate the Sabbat Worlds？”
“So your greater purpose is…？”
“To win。”
Kautas took a drink from his flask。 This time； he offered it to Marquall。 The Phantine shook his
head。
99
“Why are the Sabbat Worlds important？” the ayatani asked。
“Well； strategically—”
“No； Marquall。 What is their significance？”
“Thousands of years ago； Saint Sabbat purged these worlds of Chaos in the name of the God…
Emperor。 We are reclaiming what she once established for us。”
“Exactly。 These worlds are Saint Sabbat’s。 They are blessed with her touch。 My first duty； as an
ayatani； is to the God…Emperor； but I am specifically a priest of Sabbat； the Beati。 We ayatani come
in two kinds。 Those that dwell in the great templums and shrineholds； and those； like me； who are
‘imhava’—roving priests； sworn to follow her path through the stars and spread her teachings。”
“Okay；” said Marquall。
“This Crusade’s been going on for almost twenty years。 Warmaster Macaroth； if my information
is correct； has pressed ahead； taking a huge gamble in directing an attack into the heart of the
Archenemy’s core systems。 But his flanks are exposed； and the enemy has driven his forces into
those weaknesses； hoping to behead the thrusting Crusade force； and leave Macaroth alone and
vulnerable。 We are those flanks； Marquall： Enothis； the Khan Group。 It is the fighting here that will
determine the overall success or failure of the Crusade。 If we fail here； it doesn’t matter if Macaroth
achieves victory at the front line。 All will be for naught。 The enemy knows this。 But now； according
to rumours； the enemy has an even greater incentive。 On Herodor； it is said； the Beati has been
reborn。”
Marquall blinked。 “Is that… possible？”
Kautas pursed his lips。 “It tests even the faith of an imhava ayatani； but it seems to be the truth。
Right now； Herodor； like Enothis； is under desperate assault by the hosts of Chaos。 If either world
falls； then the flank is ripped open and the Crusade is doomed。 If Herodor falls； and the Beati dies
with it； then the Imperium suffers an even greater loss。”
“And you wish you were there？” asked Marquall。
“Oh； indeed。 How I wish。 In his heart； every ayatani longs to be on Herodor； at Sabbat’s side。
But it is my luck； my lot in life； to be stuck here； pinned fast by duty and the turmoil of another
combat； unable to make the final pilgrimage to her person。”
A breeze picked up； and played across the lake。 The frond…trees along the shore swayed and
hissed。
“That makes my own problems seem meagre；” said Marquall。 “Maybe you’re better at this
priestly advice…giving thing than I thought。”
Kautas shook his head。 “I’m good for two things； Vander Marquall。 Drinking and being bitter。 I
waste every miserable day waiting for the end。”
“What end？”
“The end of this war。 The end of this world。 My own end。 Whatever comes first to free me so
that I can be with the Beati。”
Marquall got to his feet。 “Don’t think that way。 It smells too much of pessimism。 We can still
win； tell yourself that。 Here； and on Herodor。 The Crusade can still triumph。 The Beati can still live。
Even one man’s sour thoughts can lend the enemy strength。”
“Besides；” he added。 “Did it not occur to you that the Beati must have wanted you to be here？”
Kautas made no reply。 Marquall shrugged and headed back up the shore to the base。
“Marquall？”
He turned and looked back。 The priest had risen； looking after him。 “What； father？”
“That suggests she must have wanted you to be here too。”
Over the desert； 09。35
100
The sky was dark with bats。 Literally； terrifyingly dark。 A mass bombing wave； perhaps five
hundred machines； was passing over like a slow； heavy storm cloud at about ten thousand metres。
Two more great swarms； equally large； were following it； ten kilometres back。
Most of it was simply moving past towards intended target zones in the Littoral； unconcerned by
the minor brawl down in the desert verges。 But a pack of bombers； twenty or more； had peeled off to
attack the retreat column； and several dozen escort fighters had committed with them。
Jagdea heard Del Ruth and one of the Raptor pilots frantically calling in warnings。
“Mass raids！ Five hundred…plus； coming in out of the desert； turning north…east； ten thousand。”
Jagdea herself was too busy pulling negative Gs to evade the fighters streaking in。 Hell Razors；
for the most part； but also machines of another pattern with long； dihedral wings cabaned towards
the rear of the hulls； so they looked like long…necked birds。 The Gs hung on her hard； and made her
gut squirm。
Jagdea levelled out in time to hear Operations ordering the Imperial fliers out。
“This is Umbra Lead；” she voxed。 “Negative。 I say again negative on that。 Get everything up in
support or that column is dead。”
As things stood； she and the other Umbra birds had less than twenty minutes left on site before
fuel needs would force them to extend for home。 The Raptors probably had less than ten。
The enemy fighter…bombers； all of them Hell Talons with lurid paint…schemes； were already
screaming down on the beleaguered Imperial ground forces； spilling out munitions pods that lit up
the desert with blankets of fuel…air explosive。 Tanks； weapons carriers； trucks and men all burned。
Frantic Hydra fire stitched up into the air。
She saw a black cruciform shape—one of the Raptors—hammer in under her； gunning for one of
the stooping Talons。 It missed； then carried on low； strafing the enemy tanks。 There was no sign of
Del Ruth or Van Tull； but she could hear their urgent calls—both brawling now。 They were still in
the game。
Jagdea did a high speed barrel…roll； and came in on a Talon that was just commenci