later； as I slowly recovered。 For days； I was as weak as a feline whelp。
Most particularly； I knew nothing about the way Tantalid had been denied。 Bequin told me； a day or two after my first awakening。 It
had been something so typically Betancore。
Alizebeth had been hard on my heels up the stairs from the sacrarium； in time to see Tantalid's arrival。 She had known him at once。
The Witchfinder is notorious throughout the subsector。
He'd been about to kill me； and I was unconscious at his feet； going into anaphylactic shock with the venom bonding and seething in
my veins。
She'd cried out； fumbling for her weapon。
Then light … hard； powerful light … had streamed in through the stained glass windows。 There was a roaring sound。 My gun…cutter； its
lamps on full beam； rose to a hover over the rained chapel； lighting up the night。 Guessing what was about to follow； Bequin had
thrown herself down。
Betancore's voice had boomed out from the hull tannoy of the hovering gunship。
'Imperial Inquisition！ Step away from the inquisitor now！'
Tantalid had squinted up into the glare； his stringy tortoise head turning in the rim of his massive carapace armour。
'Ministorum officer！' he had yelled back； his voice amplified by his suit's vox…unit。 'Back off！ Back off now！ This heretic is mine！'
Bequin grinned as she told me Betancore's response。 'Never argue with a gun…cutter； you asshole。'
The slaved servitors in the cutter's blunt wingtips opened fire； hosing the chapel with autocannon shells。 The stained glass windows
had all shattered； statues had been decapitated； flagstones had disintegrated。 Hit at least once； Tantalid had fallen backwards into the
dust and debris。 His body had not been found； so I presumed the bastard had survived。 But he had been smart enough to flee。
My prone body had not been touched； even though the chapel around me had been peppered with fire。
Typical Betancore bravado。 Typical Betancore finesse。
She was just like her damned father。
'SEND HER TO me；' I told Bequin as I lay back in my cot； half…dead and feeling terrible。
Medea Betancore looked in a few minutes later。 Like her father； Midas； she was clad in the red…piped black suit of a Glavian pilot； and
she proudly wore his old cerise； embroidered jacket。
Her skin； like Midas's； like all that of all Glavians； was dark。 She grinned at me。
'I owe you；' I said。
Medea shook her head。 'Nothing my father wouldn't have done。' She sat on the foot of my cot。
'He'd have killed Tantalid； though；' she decided。
'He was a better shot。'
That grin again； pearl white teeth framed by ebony skin。
'Yeah； he was that。'
'But you'll do；' I smiled。
She saluted and left。
MIDAS BETANCORE HAD been dead for twenty…six years。 I missed him still。 He was the closest thing to a friend I had ever had。 Bequin
and Aemos； they were allies； and I trusted them with my life。 But Midas…
May the God…Emperor rot Fayde Thuring for taking him。 May the God…Emperor lead me to Fayde Thuring one day so that I and
Medea may avenge Midas。
Medea had never known her father。 She'd been born a month after his death； raised by her mother on Glavia； and had come into my
service by chance。 I was her godfather； a promise to Midas。 Duty bound； I had visited Glavia for her ascension to adulthood； and
watched her drive a Glavia long…prow through the vortex rapids of the Stilt Hills during the Rites of Majority。 One glimpse of her
skills had convinced me。
ARIANRHOD ESW SWEYDYR was dead。 So were Gonvax and Qus。 The battle in the sacrarium had been fierce。 Ravenor had killed the
raging haemonculus； but only after it had ripped open his belly and taken off Zu Zeng's left ear。
Gideon Ravenor was in intensive care in the main city infirmary of Lethe。 We would collect him once he was out of danger。
I wondered how long that would be。 I wondered how he would be。 He had loved Arianrhod； loved her dearly。 I prayed this loss would
not set him back too far。
I mourned Qus and the se for nineteen years。 That Darknight in the chapel had robbed me of so
much。
Qus was buried with full honours in the Imperial Guard Memorial Cenotaph at Lethe Majeure。 Arianrhod was burned on a bare hill
west of the salt…licks。 I was too weak to attend either service。
AEMOS BROUGHT THE sabre Barbarisater to me after the pyre。 I wrapped it in a vizzy…doth and a silk sheet。 I knew I was duty bound to
return it to the tribal elders of the Esw Sweydyr on Carthae before long。 That would mean a round trip of at least a year。 I had no time
for it。 I put the wrapped sword in my safebox。 It barely fitted。
As I worked my way back to health； I considered Tantalid。 Arnaut Tantalid had risen from the rank of confessor militant in the
Missionaria Galaxia seventy years before to become one of the Ministorum's most feared and ruthless witch…hunters。 Like many of his
breed； he followed the doctrines of Sebastian Thor with such unswerving precision it bordered on clinical obsession。
To most of the common folk of the Imperium； there would be blessed little to choose between an Ordo Xenos inquisitor such as
myself and an ecclesiarchy witchkiller like Tantalid。 We both hunt out the damning darkness that stalks mankind； we are both figures
of fear and dread； we are both； so it seems； laws unto ourselves。
Twinned though we may be in so many ways； we could not be more distinct。 It is my personal belief that the Adeptus Ministorum； the
Imperium's vast organ of faith and worship； should focus its entire attention on the promulgation of the true church of the God…
Emperor and leave the persecution of heretics to the Inquisition。 Our jurisdictions often clash。 There have； to my certain knowledge；
been two wars of faith in the last century provoked and sustained by just such rivalry。
Tantalid and I had locked horns twice before。 On Bradell's World； five decades earlier； we had faced each other across the marble
floor of a synod court； arguing for the right to extradite the psyker Elbone Parsuval。 On that occasion； he had triumphed； thanks
mainly to the strict Thorian mindset of the Ministorum elders of Bradell's World。
Then； just eight years ago； our paths had crossed again on Kuuma。
Tantalid's fanatical hatred … indeed； I would venture； fear … of the psyker was by then insurmountable。 I made no secret of the fact that I
employed psychic methods in the pursuit of my work。 There were psychic adepts in my staff； and I myself had worked to develop my
own psychic abilities over the years。 Such is my right； as an authorised bearer of the Inquisition's seal。
In my eyes； he was a blinkered zealot with psychotic streak。 In his； I was the spawn of witches and a heretic。
No courtroom argument for us on Kuuma。 A little war instead。 It lasted an afternoon； and raged through the tiered streets of the oasis
town at Unat Akim。
Twenty…eight latent psykers； none older than fourteen； had been rooted out of the population of Kuuma's sprawling capital city during
a purge； and sequestered prior to their collection by the Black Ships。 They were recruits； a precious resource； untainted and ready to be
shaped by the Adeptus Astropathicus into worthy servants of the God…Emperor。 Some of them； perhaps； would have the ultimate
honour of joining the choir of the Astronomican。 They were frightened and confused； but this was their salvation。
Better to be found early and turned to good service than to remain undetected and become tainted； corrupt and a threat to our entire
society。
But before the Black Ships could arrive to take them； they were spirited away by renegade slavers working in collusion with corrupt
officials in the local Administratum。 Vast sums could be made on the black market for unregistered； virgin psychic slaves。
I followed the slavers' trail across the seif dunes to Unat Akim with the intention of liberating the youngsters。 Tantalid made his way
there to exterminate them all as witches。
By the end of the fight； I had driven the witchfinder and his cohorts； mostly foot soldiers of the Frateris Militia； out of the oasis town。
Two of the young psykers had been killed in the crossfire； but the others were safely transferred into the hands of the Astropathicus。
Tantalid； fleeing Kuuma to lick his wounds； had tried to have me declared heretic； but the charges were swiftly overturned。 The
Ministorum had； at that time； no wish to court conflict with their allies in the Inquisition。
I had expected； known even； that Tantalid would return sometime to plague me。 It was a personal matter now； one which his fanatical
disposition would fix upon and transform into a holy calling。
But the last I had heard； he had been leading an ecclesiarchy mission into the Ophidian subsector in support of the century…long Purge
Campaign there。
I wondered what had brought him to Lethe Eleven at so inopportune a moment。
BY THE TIME I was back on my feet； two weeks later； the Darknight was over and I knew the answer； in general if not specific terms。
I was hobbling around on a cane in the private mansion I had rented in Lethe Majeure when Aemos brought me the news。 The great
Ophidian Campaign was over。
'Great success；' he announced。 'The last action took place at Dolsene four months ago； and the Warmaster has declared the subsector
cleansed。 A famous victory； don't you think？'
'Yes。 I should hope so。 It's taken them long enough。'
'Gregor； Gregor… even with a force as large as the hallowed Battlefleet Scarus； the subjugation of a subsector is an immense task！
That it took the best part of a century is nothing！ The pacification of the Extempus subsector took four hundred y—'
He paused。
'You're toying with me； aren't you？'
I nodded。 He was very easy to wind up。
Aemos shook his head and eased his ancient body down into one of the leather chairs。
'Martial law still dominates； I understand； and caretaker governments have been established on the key worlds。 But the Warmaster
himself is returning with the bulk of the fleet in triumph； setting foot in this subsector again for the first time in a hundred years。'
I stood by the open windows； looking out from the mansion's first floor across the grey roofs of Lethe Majeure which seemed to coat
the hills of the Tito Basin like the scaled hide of some prehistoric reptile。 The sky was a magnolia haze； and a l