The First Heretic

‘The seven Legions tasked with doing so. Even with the Iron Warriors at our side, the other five Legions remain under the Emperor’s aegis. Six against five. Our losses will be catastrophic. How can we illuminate Terra when the Legions sworn to Lorgar and Horus are bloodied and broken?’

Xaphen didn’t answer immediately. His brother recognised something in his face – some creeping disquiet, close to the bladed edge of mistrust.

‘Do you have such little trust in your own Legion’s Chaplains, that our work has failed to turn the Night Lords, or the Alpha Legion? Lorgar has worked for half a century to spread the truth to those ears worthy of hearing it. Every Legion we need will be at our side. The loyalists will find nothing but extinction waiting for them on the surface of Isstvan V. They will never leave their dropsites alive, Argel Tal. I promise you that.’

‘This conspiracy,’ said Argel Tal, ‘disgusts me.’

‘It is the primarch’s plan, brought into being by Horus himself.’

Argel Tal shook his head. ‘No. This is not Aurelian’s work. This is Erebus and Kor Phaeron’s doing. Their treacherous stink comes off this vision in waves. Lorgar is a golden soul, a being of light. This shadowplay comes from the dreams of much smaller, darker men. The primarch, blessings upon him, loves that foul wretch. He embraces a viper to his breast and names it father.’

‘You should not speak this way of the Master of the Faith.’

‘Master of the...’ Argel Tal laughed. ‘Kor Phaeron? “Master of the Faith”? He coats himself in titles the way a killer’s knife is laced with poison. Truly, I have been isolated from the Legion too long, if Kor Phaeron is now beloved of the masses. You of all people, Xaphen – you loathed him. An impure soul. A false Astartes. Your own words, brother.’

Xaphen looked away at last, unwilling or unable to hold the gaze any longer. Nothing broke eye contact like shame. ‘Times change,’ the Chaplain said.

‘So it seems.’ Argel Tal closed his hands into fists to ease the pain in his bones. It didn’t work. His knuckles went on throbbing. ‘Just get on with it. I have a world to bring to compliance.’

‘If you please, I have questions of my own.’

‘Ask,’ said Argel Tal, ‘and I will answer.’

‘Cyrene,’ Xaphen began. ‘She has undergone more rejuvenation treatment.’

‘Do not look at me, nor should you accuse her of vanity. An astropathic order came from the primarch himself some time ago. He still holds her in high regard, and expressed his desire that she go through another cycle of treatments.’

Xaphen nodded. ‘And Aquillon?’

Argel Tal’s expression was unreadable. ‘As before. He knows nothing, and suspects even less. His messages to the Emperor never leave the fleet.’

‘My failsafe?’

‘Is still in effect.’

‘Have you checked yourself?’ The Chaplain knew his brother found certain methods distasteful. ‘It is integral you check yourself.’

‘I have,’ said Argel Tal. ‘Nothing has changed, put it from your mind.’

‘Then I am sanguine. Nevertheless, I will renew the wards tonight.’ He moved over to his writing desk, and unclasped a great book from where it was chained to his waist. Slowly, reverently, he leafed through the pages of the great, leather-bound tome – through pages and pages of elegant scripture, mathematical designs, astrological diagrams, chanted invocations and ritual formulae.

Argel Tal ached to step closer and read the secrets spilled from the primarch’s mind. Truly, Lorgar was sharing a great deal with the Legion’s Chaplain brotherhood.

‘You have added much to the book,’ he noted.

‘I have. Each month, we receive new chapters and verses for the holy work. The primarch’s mind is aflame with ideas and ideals, and we are honoured to hear them first. Thousand of epistles now grace these pages.’

The 1301st’s databanks would never be allowed to archive digital copies of the primarch’s scriptures, for such information could be accessed by the wrong souls. Instead, the Serrated Sun’s Chaplains each carried their own copies chained to their armour – forever adding to them as the Word grew and spread – using them to preach at secret sermons. Argel Tal had taken Sar Fareth’s Book of Lorgar from the Chaplain’s corpse, incinerating it on the battlefield; committing necessary blasphemy to prevent the tome ever falling into unintended hands.

The Chaplain took a slow breath. ‘I have been gone too long, Argel Tal. You’re right. I was lost in manipulating the dull-witted labourers of the IV Legion, when in truth I desired nothing more than to be here with my brothers, preaching the evolving Word of Lorgar.’

‘Apology accepted,’ said the Crimson Lord. ‘And you have thirty-eight minutes before planetfall. I will see you on the deck before the Rising Sun.’