Dan Abnett - The Horus Heresy - Horus Rising

Horus set down his cup, and leaned forward to show them the weathered gold ring he wore on the smallest finger of his left hand. It was so eroded by age that the image was indistinct. Loken thought he could detect hooves, a man's arm, a bent bow.

'It was made in Persia, the year before the Emperor was born. The dreadful Sagittary. This is you now, he said to me. My Warmaster, my centaur. Half man, half army embedded in the Legions of the Imperium. Where you turn, so the Legions turn. Where you move, so they move. Where you strike, so they strike. Ride on without me, my son, and the armies will ride with you.’ There was a long silence. 'So you see.’ Horus smiled. 'I am predisposed to like the dreadful Sagittary, now we meet him, face to face.’

His smile was infectious. Both Loken and Aximand nodded and laughed. 'Now tell them the real reason.’ a voice said. They turned. Sanguineus stood in an archway at the far end of the chamber, behind a veil of white silk. He had been listening. The Lord of Angels brushed the silk hanging aside, and stepped into the stateroom, the crests of his wings brushing the glossy material. He was dressed in a simple white robe, clasped at the waist with a girdle of gold links. He was eating fruit from a bowl. Loken and Aximand stood up quickly. 'Sit down.’ Sanguinius said. 'My brother's in the mood to open his heart, so you had better hear the truth.’

'I don't believe-' Horus began. Sanguinius scooped one

of the small, red fruits from his bowl and threw it at Horus.

Tell them the rest.’ he sniggered.

Horus caught the thrown fruit, gazed at it, then bit

into it. He wiped the juice off his chin with the back of

his hand and looked across at Loken and Aximand.

'Remember the start of my story?' he asked. What the Emperor said to me about the stars? Make no mistake, and they will be ours!

He took another two bites, threw the fruit stone away, and swallowed the flesh before he continued. 'Sanguinius, my dear brother, is right, for Sanguinius has always been my conscience.’

Sanguinius shrugged, an odd gesture for a giant with furled wings.

'Make no mistake' Horus continued. Those three words. Make no mistake. I am Warmaster, by the Emperor's decree. I cannot fail him. I cannot make mistakes.’

'Sir?' Aximand ventured.

'Since Ullanor, little one, I have made two. Or been party to two, and that is enough, for the responsibility for all expedition mistakes falls to me in the final count.’

What mistakes?' asked Loken.

'Mistakes. Misunderstandings.’ Horus stroked his hand across his brow. 'Sixty-Three Nineteen. Our first endeavour. My first as Warmaster. How much blood was spilt there, blood from misunderstanding? We misread the signs and paid the price. Poor, dear Sejanus. I miss him still. That whole war, even that nightmare up on the mountains you had to endure, Garviel... a mistake. I could have handled it differendy. Sixty-Three Nineteen could have been brought to compliance without bloodshed.’

'No, sir.’ said Loken emphatically. They were too set in their ways, and their ways were set against us. We could not have made them compliant without a war.’

Horus shook his head. You are kind, Garviel, but you are mistaken. There were ways. There should have been ways. I should have been able to sway that civilisation without a shot being fired. The Emperor would have done so.’

'I don't believe he would.’ Aximand said.

Then there's Murder.’ Horus continued, ignoring Little Horus's remark. 'Or Spiderland, as the interex has it. What is the way of their name for it again?'

'Urisarach.’ Sanguinius said, helpfully. Though I mink the word only works with the appropriate harmonic accompaniment.’

'Spiderland will suffice, then.’ said Horus. 'What did we waste there? What misunderstandings did we make? The interex left us warnings to stay away, and we ignored them. An embargoed world, an asylum for the creatures they had bested in war, and we walked straight in.’

"We weren't to know.’ Sanguinius said.

"We should have known!' Horus snapped.

Therein lies the difference between our philosophy and that of the interex.’ Aximand said. "We cannot endure the existence of a malign alien race. They subjugate it, but refrain from annihilating it. Instead, they deprive it of space travel and exile it to a prison world.’

"We annihilate.’ said Horus. They find a means around such drastic measures. Which of us is the most humane?'

Aximand rose to his feet. 1 find myself with Ezekyle on this. Tolerance is weakness. The interex is admirable, but it is forgiving and generous in its dealings with xenos breeds who deserve no quarter.’

'It has brought them to book, and learned to live in sympathy.’ said Horus. 'It has trained the kinebrach to-'

'And that's the best example I can offer!' Aximand replied. The kinebrach. It embraces them as part of its culture.’

1 will not make another rash or premature decision.’ Horus stated flatly. 'I have made too many, and my War-mastery is threatened by my mistakes. I will understand the interex, and learn from it, and parlay with it, and only then will I decide if it has strayed too far. They are a fine people. Perhaps we can learn from them for a change.’

THE MUSIC WAS hard to get used to. Sometimes it was majesterial and loud, especially when the meturge players struck up, and sometimes it was just a quiet whisper,

like a buzz, like tinnitus, but it seldom went away. The people of the interex called it the aria, and it was a fundamental part of their communication. They still used language - indeed, their spoken language was an evolved human dialect closer in form to the prime language of Terra than Cthonic - but they had long ago formulated the aria as an accompaniment and enhancement of speech, and as a mode of translation.

Scrutinised by the iterators during the voyage, the aria proved to be hard to define. Essentially, it was a form of high mathematics, a universal constant that transcended linguistic barriers, but the mathematical structures were expressed through specific harmonic and melodic modes which, to the untrained ear, sounded like music. Strands of complex melody rang in the background of all the interex's vocal transmissions, and when one of their kind spoke face to face, it was usual to have one or more of the meturge players accompany his speech with their instruments. The meturge players were the translators and envoys.

Tall, like all the people of the interex, they wore long coats of a glossy, green fibre, laced with slender gold piping. The flesh of their ears was distended and splayed, by genetic and surgical enhancement, like the ears of bats or other nocturnal fliers. Comm technology, the equivalent of vox, was laced around the high collars of their coats, and each one carried an instrument strapped across his chest, a device with amplifiers and coiled pipes, and numerous digital keys on which the meturge player's nimble fingers constantly rested. A swan-necked mouthpiece rose from the top of each instrument, enabling the player to blow, hum, or vocalise into the device.

The first meeting between Imperium and interex had been formal and cautious. Envoys came aboard the Vengeful Spirit, escorted by meturge players and soldiers.

The envoys were uniformly handsome and lean, with piercing eyes. Their hair was dressed short, and intricate dermatoglyphics - Loken suspected permanent tattoos - decorated either the left or right-hand sides of their faces. They wore knee-length robes of a soft, pale blue cloth, under which they were dressed in close-fitting clothing woven from the same, glossy fibre that composed the meturge players' coats.

The soldiers were impressive. Fifty of them, led by officers, had descended from their shuttle. Taller than the envoys, they were clad from crown to toe in metal armour of burnished silver and emerald green with aposematic chevrons of scarlet. The armour was of almost delicate design, and sheathed their bodies tightly; it was in no way as massive or heavy-set as the Astartes' plate. The soldiers - variously gleves or sagit-tars, Loken learned - were almost as tall as the Astartes, but with their far more slender build and more closely fitted armour, they seemed slight compared to the Imperial giants. Abaddon, at the first meeting, muttered that he doubted their fancy armour would stand even a slap.