The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第6章

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te　and
quiet。
Jarat；　my　housekeeper；　was　waiting　for　us　in　the　entrance　hall。　She　was　dressed；　as　ever；　in　a　pale　grey　gown…robe　and　a　black　lace　cap
draped　with　a　white　veil。　As　the　great　iron　hatch…doors　cycled　open；　and　I　breathed　the　cool；　purified　air　of　the　house；　she　clapped　her
plump　hands　and　sent　servitors　scurrying　forward　to　take　our　coats　and　assist　with　the　baggage　train。
I　stood　for　a　moment　on　the　nashemeek　rug　and　looked　around　at　the　austere　stone　walls　and　the　high　arched　roof。　There　were　no
paintings；　no　busts　or　statuary；　no　crossed　weapons　or　embroidered　tapestries；　only　an　Inquisitorial　crest　on　the　far　wall　over　the　stairs。
I　am　not　one　for　decoration　or　opulence。　I　require　simple　comfort　and　functionality。
The　others　bustled　around　me。　Bequin　and　Aemos　went　through　to　the　library。　Ravenor　and　von　Baigg　issued　careful　instructions　to
the　servitors　concerning　some　baggage　items。　Medea　disappeared　to　her　private　room。　The　others　in　my　retinue　melted　away　into　the
house。
Jarat　greeted　them　all；　and　then　came　to　me。
'Welcome；　sir；'　she　said。　'You　have　long　been　from　us。'
'Sixteen　months；　Jarat。'
'The　house　is　aired　and　ready。　We　made　preparations　as　soon　as　you　signalled　your　intentions。　We　were　saddened　to　hear　of　the
losses。'
'Anything　to　report？'
'Security　was　of　course　double…checked　prior　to　your　arrival。　There　are　a　number　of　messages。'
'I'll　review　them　shortly。'
'You　are　hungry；　no　doubt？'
She　was　right；　though　I　hadn't　realised　it。
'The　kitchen　is　preparing　dinner。　I　took　the　liberty　of　selecting　a　menu　that　I　believe　you　will　approve　of。'
'As　ever；　I　have　faith　in　your　choices；　Jarat。　I'd　like　to　dine　on　the　sea　terrace；　with　any　who　would　join　me。'
'I'll　see　to　it；　sir。　Welcome　home。'
I　BATHED；　PUT　on　a　robe　of　grey　wool；　and　sat　for　a　while　alone　in　my　private　chambers；　sipping　a　glass　of　amasec　and　looking
through　the　messages　and　communiques　by　the　soft　light　of　the　lamp。

There　were　many；　mostly　recent　postings　from　old　acquaintances　…　officials；　fellow　inquisitors；　soldiers　…　alerting　me　to　their　arrival　on
the　planet　and　conveying　respects。　Few　needed　more　than　a　form　reply　from　my　secretary。　To　some；　I　penned　courteous；　personal
responses；　expressing　the　hope　of　meeting　them　at　some　or　other　of　the　Novena's　many　events。
There　were　three　that　drew　my　particular　attention。　The　first　was　a　private；　coded　missive　from　Lord　Inquisitor　Phlebas　Alessandro
Rorken。　Rorken　was　the　head　of　Ordo　Xenos　in　the　Helican　subsector；　my　immediate　superior　and　part　of　the　triumvurate　of　senior
inquisitors　who　answered　directly　to　Grandmaster　Orsini。　Rorken　wanted　to　see　me　as　soon　as　I　was　back　on　Thracian。　I　responded
immediately　that　I　would　come　to　him　at　the　Palace　of　the　Inquisition　the　follow　morning。
The　second　was　from　my　old　friend　and　colleague；　Titus　Endor。　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　I　had　set　eyes　on　him。　His　message；
uncoded；　read：　'Gregor。　My　greetings　to　you。　Are　you　home？'
The　brevity　was　disarming。　I　sent　an　affirmative　response　that　was　similarly　brief。　Endor　clearly　did　not　want　to　converse　in　writing。　I
awaited　his　reponse。
The　third　was　also　uncoded；　or　at　least　lacked　electronic　encryption。　It　said；　in　Glossia：　'Scalpel　cuts　quickly；　eager　tongues　revealed。
At　Cadia；　by　terce。　Hound　wishes　Thorn。　Thorn　should　be　sharp。'
THE　SEA　TERRACE　was　probably　the　main　reason　I　had　leased　the　Ocean　House　in　the　first　place。　It　was　a　long；　ceramite…vaulted　hall
with　one　entire　wall　made　of　armoured　glass　looking　into　the　ocean。　The　industrialisation　of　Thracian　Primaris　had　killed　off　a　great
part　of　the　world's　sea…life；　but　at　these　depths；　hardy　survivors　such　as　luminous　deep　anglers　and　schools　of　incandescent　jellies
could　still　be　glimpsed　in　the　emerald　nocturnal　glow。　The　candlelit　room　was　washed　by　a　rippling　green　half…light。
Jarat's　servitors　had　set　the　long　table　for　nine　and　those　nine　were　already　taking　their　seats　and　chatting　over　preprandial　drinks　as　I
arrived。　Like　most　of　them；　I　had　dressed　informally；　putting　on　a　simple　black　suit。　The　kitchen　provided　steamed　fubi　dumplings　and
grilled　ketelfish；　followed　by　seared　haunches　of　rare；　gamey　orkunu；　and　then　pear　and　berry　tarts　with　a　cinnamon　jus。　A　sturdy
Gudranite　claret　and　sweet　dessert　wine　from　the　vineyards　of　Messina　complemented　the　food　perfectly。　I　had　forgotten　the　excellent
qualities　of　the　house　Jarat　ran　for　me；　so　far　away　from　the　hardship　of　missions　in　the　field。
Around　the　table　with　me　were　Aemos；　Bequin；　Ravenor；　von　Baigg；　my　rubricator　and　scribe　Aldemar　Psullus；　Jubal　Kircher；　the
head　of　household　security；　a　trusted　field　agent　called　Harlon　Nayl；　and　Thula　Surskova；　who　was　Bequin's　chief　aide　with　the
Distaff。　Medea　Betancore　had　chosen　not　to　join　us；　but　I　knew　the　intensity　of　the　piloting　chores　down　through　Thracian　airspace
had　undoubtedly　worn　her　out。
I　was　pleased　to　see　that　Ravenor　was　present。　His　injuries　were　healing；　the　physical　ones　at　least；　and　though　he　was　quiet　and　a　little
withdrawn；　I　felt　he　was　beginning　to　come　through　the　shock　of　Arianrhod's　death。
Surskova；　a　short；　ample　woman　in　her　forties；　was　quietly　briefing　Bequin　on　the　progress　of　the　newer　Distaff　initiates。　Aemos
chuntered　on　to　Psullus　and　Nayl　about　the　events　on　Lethe　Eleven　and　they　listened　intently。　Psullus；　enfeebled　and　prematurely　aged
by　a　wasting　disease；　never　left　the　Ocean　House　and　devoted　his　life　to　the　maintenance　and　preservation　of　my　extensive　private
libraries。　If　Aemos　hadn't　related　the　story　of　our　last　mission　to　him；　I　would　have　made　sure　I　did。　Such　tales　were　his　only
connection　to　the　active　process　of　our　business　and　he　loved　to　hear　them。　Nayl；　an　ex…bounty　hunter　from　Loki；　had　been　injured　on
a　mission　the　year　before　and　had　not　been　able　to　join　us　for　the　Lethe　endeavour。　He　too　lapped　up　Aemos's　account；　asking
occasional　questions。　I　could　tell　he　was　itching　to　get　back　to　work。
Von　Baigg　and　Kircher　chatted　idly　about　the　preparations　for　the　Novena　that　were　now　gripping　the　hives　of　Thracian；　and　the
security　consequences　they　brought。　Kircher　was　an　able　man；　ex…arbites；　and　dependable　if　a　little　unimaginative。　As　dessert　was
served；　the　discussion　broadened　across　the　table。
'They　say　the　Bestowment　will　be　the　making　of　the　Warmaster；'　Nayl　said；　his　loaded　spoon　poised　in　front　of　his　mouth。
'He's　made　already；　I'd　say；'　I　retorted。
'Nayl's　right；　Gregor。　I　heard　that　too；'　said　Ravenor。　'Feudal　Protector。　That's　as　good　as　Imperial　Lord　Commander　Helican　admitting
the　。'
'It's　a　sinecure。'
'Not　at　all。　It　makes　Honorius　the　favourite　to　become　warmaster…in…chief　in　the　Acrotara　theatre　now　that　Warmaster　Hiju　is　dead；　and
Hiju　was　being　groomed　for　a　place　on　the　Senatorum　Imperialis；　perhaps　even　to　sit　amongst　the　High　Lords　of　Terra。'
'Honorius　may　be　〃Magnus〃；　but　he's　not　High　Lord　material；'　I　ventured。
'After　this　he　might　be；'　said　Nayl。　'Lord　Commander　Helican　must　think　he　has　potential；　or　he　wouldn't　be　giving　him　such　an
almighty　hand　up。'
Politics　left　me　cold；　and　I　seldom　empathised　with　political　ambitions。　I　only　studied　the　subject　because　my　duties　often　demanded　a
detailed　working　knowledge。　Imperial　Lord　Commander　Helican；　which　is　to　say　Jeromya　Faurlitz　IV　of　the　noble　Imperial　family
Faurlitz；　was　the　supreme　secular　authority　in　the　Helican　subsector；　for　which　reason　he　styled　himself　with　the　subsector's　name　in
his　appellation。　On　paper；　even　the　cardinals　of　the　Ministorium；　the　Grandmaster　of　the　Inquisition；　the　senior　luminaries　of　the
Administratum　and　the　Lords　Militant　had　to　answer　to　him；　though　as　with　all　things　in　Imperial　society；　it　was　never　as　easy　as　that。
Church；　state　and　military；　woven　together　as　one；　yet　constantly　inimical。　In　favouring　Warmaster　Honorius　with　the　Bestowment；
Lord　Helican　was　throwing　his　lot　in　with　the　military　…　an　overt　signal　to　the　other　organs　of　government　…　and　clearly　expected　the
Warmaster　to　return　the　favour　when　he　rose　to　levels　of　government　beyond　those　of　a　single　subsector。　It　was　a　dangerous　game；　and
rare　for　so　senior　an　official　to　play　openly　for　such　an　advantage；　though　the　battle…glory　that　surrounded　Honorius　made　a　perfect
excuse。

And　that　made　it　a　dangerous　time。　Somebody　would　want　to　redress　that　balance。　My　money　would　be　on　the　Ecclesiarchy；　though
it's　fair　to　say　I'm　biased。　However；　history　has　shown　the　Church　to　be　chronically　intolerant　of　losing　power　to　the　military　or　the
state。　I　said　as　much。
'There　are　many　other　elements；'　Aemos　chuckled；　accepting　a　refill　of　dessert　wine。　'The　Faurlitz　line　is　weak　and　lacks　both　support
in　the　Adeptus　Terra　and　a　ready　ear　at　the　Senatorum　Imperialis　and　the　courts　of　the　Golden　Throne。　Two　powerful　families；　the　De
Vensii　and　the　Fulvatorae；　are　seeking　to　make　gains　against　the　Faurlitz；　and　would　take　this　as　an　open　show　of　defiance。　Then
there's　the　House　of　Eirswald；　who　see　their　own　famous　son；　Lord　Militant　Strefon；　as　the　only　viable　replacement　for　Hiju。　And　the
Augustyn　dynasty；　let's　not　forget；　who　were　ousted　from　power　when　High　Lord　of　Terra　Giann　Augustyn　died　in　office　forty　years
ago。　They've　been　trying　to　get　back　in　with　feverish　determination　these　last　few　years；　pushing　their　candidate；　Lord　Commander
Cosimo；　with　almost　unseemly　impudence。　If　Nayl's　right　and　the　Bestowment　makes　Honorius　a　certainty　as　Hiju's　successor；　he'd
become　a　direct　competitor　with　Cosimo　for　the　High　Lord's　vacant　position。'
Down　the　table；　Bequin　yawned　and　caught　my　eye。
'Cosimo's　never　going　to　make　it；'　Psullus　put　in　candidly。　'His　house　is　far　too　unpopular　with　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus；　and　without
their　consent；　however　tacit；　no　one　ever　makes　it　to　High　Lord　rank。　Besides；　the　Ministorum　would　block　it。　Giann　Augustyn　made
no　friends　there　with　his　reforms。　They　say　it　was　a　Callidus　of　the　Officio　Assassinorum；　under　orders　from　the　Ecclesiarcy；　that　took
old　Giann　off；　not　a　stroke　at　all。'
'Careful　what　you　say；　old　friend；　or　they'll　be　sending　one　after　you；'　Ravenor　said。　Psullus　held　up　his　bony　hands　in　a　dismissive
gesture　as　laughter　rippled　around　the　table。
'It　is；　still；　most　perturbatory；