Raymond Belisarius was a thin man, with a long face and cold, watchful eyes. He had a scarf wrapped around his forehead that bore the sign of his House. It hid the mutated third eye that was the mark of the Navigator and which in his case was said to be hideous beyond belief. According to the dossiers, he was some sort of cripple as far as his House was concerned. His third eye did not function as it was supposed to and let him guide ships through the perils of the warp. Instead, he had other gifts: a tremendous understanding of the workings of finance and trade, and an astonishing insight into the corrupt workings of the human heart. He was not only in charge of his House’s business out here with the crusade, he was their spymaster and their chief merchant.
Like Blight, he had previously had dealings with Macharius. I had known the two of them to hunt together in the Great Dome in the palace. There were always times when they were apart from others and no one could overhear their discussions. Looking at the Wolfblade and knowing what I now did, I was beginning to have my suspicions about those talks.
Zarah Belisarius was a lovely, ethereal woman, who did not appear to be much older than twenty, although she was at least ten times that. Her face was that of a tranquil saint, her form willowy rather than full. She studied Macharius in a way that showed a good deal of interest. I supposed he was used to it, being who he was and all.
‘Helicon Blight has told us of your request,’ said Raymond. His speech was formal and seemed entirely for the benefit of his cousin. I wondered how much the other members of his House knew about his dealings with Macharius. ‘He has not told us why you wish to go to this dangerous place.’
‘That is my business,’ said Macharius. ‘I am willing to pay a good deal of money to see that it stays that way.’
The Navigator nodded as though he understood. He ran one long, narrow finger along his thin lower lip then touched the dimple on his upper lip. ‘It is not just a question of money, it is a question of risk,’ he said. ‘We need to know what we may encounter when we get there in order to best decide whether to attempt it.’
Macharius looked at him, looked at the Wolfblade and then at Zarah. He smiled his most charming smile. ‘You know as much about the Procrastes system as I. I have given you the information we have. I wish to free those under the xenos yoke and return them to the Emperor’s Light. I will also avenge the insult of their attack on my ship. They stole something of great value to me and perhaps to people I wish to befriend.’ A flick of his eyes indicated the Wolfblade.
I was not surprised at how circumspect Macharius was being. Navigators had their own culture going back past the dawn of the Imperium, and Belisarius was one of the oldest of their Houses. They also had connections with the Space Wolves Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes dating back to the Great Crusade. ‘Are you interested, or should I take my business elsewhere?’ Macharius said.
‘Lord High Commander, it is up to my kinswoman. She may decide whether she wishes to take the contract or not.’ He looked at Zarah. She looked at Macharius.
‘I have some business to conclude here, and if I must break contract with my present employers then penalty clauses will be invoked and compensation called for.’
‘I will cover those,’ said Macharius.
‘Those will be at a premium, when the reasons are known,’ said Raymond.
‘Perhaps it would be best if the reasons were not public knowledge then,’ said Macharius. ‘Our association has been mutually beneficial in the past, and it would be wise on both our parts to ensure that it continues to be so.’
Macharius was giving a polite warning not to try extorting too much.
‘It shall be as you say, Lord High Commander.’
‘Good,’ said Macharius. ‘When can we expect to depart?’
Raymond looked at Zarah. She said, ‘One standard week if Helicon Blight’s ship is ready.’
‘Very good,’ said Macharius. ‘It means I have time to conduct business with my commanders.’
I could tell he was disappointed, though. He had wanted to depart immediately if he could.
Chapter Ten
The day was warm. The sun was shining, as it always was on Emperor’s Glory, bringing another perfect day to a perfect world. The only things that looked out of place were the grim gunships standing on the plascrete of the space-field, and the countless smaller commercial vessels coming and going.
Macharius stood on the landing ground. Inquisitor Drake was with him. They watched as enormous ramps were attached to the side of a massive military shuttle. They talked constantly, scoring points off each other with gusto. They were both clever men with strong views, and I think they saw such contests as a challenge, the way some people play regicide or spar against each other with wooden swords.
I listened to them as I watched our surroundings for threats. ‘You need to be more tolerant of the failings of the Administratum,’ Drake said. ‘It is a great machine. It works very slowly, but it works.’
‘My men’s lives depend on getting the right supplies in the right place at the right time,’ said Macharius. ‘All armies depend on this as much as the courage and faith of our soldiers.’
‘I would not presume to contradict you on such things,’ said Drake. ‘You know far more about them than I do.’
‘On the other hand…’ Macharius said. He knew that the inquisitor deferred to him only to set up another point.
‘On the other hand, I do know about the way the Imperium is ruled. You cannot make demands of the people you make demands of. You cannot threaten them the way you do. You cannot execute them for failing to meet your expectations. You must make them your allies.’
‘So my men must go without ammunition so some contractor can grow rich from graft? My tanks must go without fuel because of the incompetence of some placeman, whose relatives just happen to be high in the Administratum?’
‘Some would say your generals grow rich from the plunder of worlds,’ Drake said mildly. The fact that he could say such a thing while standing with Macharius and awaiting Sejanus said a lot about his power, his confidence and his familiarity with the general.
‘They have earned what they take with their blood and their courage.’
‘With the blood of the Emperor’s soldiers and the courage of the Emperor’s faithful,’ countered Drake. ‘Not to mention the products of the Emperor’s temple-factories and the wealth of the Emperor’s worlds.’
‘The Imperium gets its rightful tithe. The soldiers share in the spoils of victory.’
‘That is not the point,’ Drake said.
‘Then what is?’ Macharius countered.
‘Corruption is just a point of view. I could, if I chose to, see it in the way your generals dispose of the spoils of victory. Any fair-minded observer could. You choose to see it only where it works against you.’
‘I see it where it is.’
‘No doubt. And no doubt you are correct. How do you think your generals would feel if you purged them for taking the spoils you had previously awarded them?’
‘You are surely not trying to make a comparison between my generals and corrupt administrators?’
‘You have not answered my question,’ said Drake. ‘Would your generals support you with such enthusiasm? Would they perhaps think they were being persecuted unfairly?’
‘Would you stop asking rhetorical questions?’ Macharius’s voice was mocking, and he mimicked the inquisitor’s tone with uncanny precision.
‘Obviously they would not,’ said Drake, not in the least affected. ‘They would be upset. They would think it unfair if you changed the rules so late in the game.’
‘We are playing a game now, are we?’