‘Tired.’
‘Tired? Is that all?’
‘Is that not enough? For a man like Macharius to be tired is unthinkable. I have never seen him like this before. It’s…’
The word had left my mouth before I could recall it. Drake stood taller and more attentively. It was too much to hope that he had not noticed.
‘It’s what?’ he said. ‘You were going to say something.’
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘Do not lie to me, Sergeant Lemuel. We have known each other too long for that to work.’
I supposed it was true, but I found myself resenting this calm, authoritative man with his aura of absolute certainty, of knowing me better than I knew myself.
‘Speak!’ he said and I am sure there was some powerful compulsion laced into his words, backed by his strange psyker powers.
‘He seems old, as if the juvenat has ceased to work, as if he is wearing out.’
The words hung in the air for a long time. Neither of us said anything. Drake took a seat in one the chairs. He poured himself a drink from a hip flask and then much to my astonishment, he offered me one. I took it, wondering if perhaps it was poisoned. I dismissed the idea. If Drake wanted me dead, I would be dead.
‘The juvenat has ceased working,’ he said, at last.
‘No,’ I said. I simply did not want to believe it.
‘It stops working for everybody, eventually,’ Drake said. ‘Otherwise we would all live to be as old as the Emperor.’
He took a sip of his drink then raised it to the light and turned it with his long slender fingers. He looked at it from all angles and I began to wonder whether despite appearances the inquisitor might not be somewhat drunk. His powers enabled him to process as much alcohol as a Space Marine with as little effect if he wished it, but perhaps he did not wish it, this night of all nights.
‘I have seen the medical reports,’ Drake said. ‘His body is suffering from advanced metabolic deterioration. It does not really show yet, but the process is accelerating. It will affect him mentally eventually, if it has not already.’ There was a certainty in his manner that made it impossible to doubt him.
‘You are saying that he is dying, that all those halted years are going to catch up with him?’
Drake nodded. ‘In a way that will likely be most unpleasant.’
‘Why are you telling me?’
‘Because you are as close to him as anyone. You will notice it sooner or later, if you have not already.’
Once it had been pointed out, it was impossible not to remember the tiny slips, the small failures.
‘Do you really think he would have lost on Loki if he had been the same man as he was on Karsk?’ Drake asked.
‘Is this why the Imperium wants him replaced?’
Drake shook his head. ‘The Imperium does not want him replaced. People want him replaced, people with a great deal of power within the Imperium. And the people who want him replaced want him replaced so that they can have his power, prestige and position. Some of them want to be the next Macharius. Most of them simply want power. Macharius is just an obstacle in the way of their ambitions.’
‘He cannot be replaced,’ I said. ‘He is a great man. None greater.’
‘You know that. I know that. There are people who choose to believe otherwise. Worse, there are people who would disgrace him if they could, for they do not like to live in a world containing those greater than themselves. They would pull him down to their level if they could. He has outwitted them for a long time but he is slipping. Everyone does eventually.’
‘Even you, inquisitor?’
‘That remains to be seen,’ he said, ‘but yes, one day perhaps, even me.’
‘Once again I ask you why you are telling me this.’
‘Perhaps because I have to tell somebody, and you at least are trustworthy. Also, you are close to Macharius. If you notice anything, you will tell me.’
‘You are very certain of that.’
‘It is in Macharius’s best interests and it is in your best interests. These are dangerous times, for all of us.’
I wondered then at the pressure Drake must have felt himself to be under. He was a friend and long-time comrade of Macharius, one of the architects of the crusade, and yet he too was a servant of the Imperium and somewhere he too must have hidden masters with their own agenda.
‘You won’t let them replace him, will you?’ I don’t know to this day why I asked. Perhaps I simply sought reassurance.
‘Replace him, no. You were correct earlier. He is irreplaceable.’
He departed, leaving me with much to think about.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, Macharius looked like his old self. It was as if the previous evening had been a bad dream and I had imagined what I had seen and my conversation with Drake. I would have been a lot happier if that had been the case.
Drake was in Macharius’s council chamber. He gave no sign that we had talked the night before. Tarka was there and Crassus and the other generals. Macharius greeted them all affably, and it was obvious, looking at them, that they were surprised by how good his mood was. I wondered if this was just his way of keeping his rivals off-balance. It was always something Macharius had excelled at.
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ Macharius said. ‘I have good news for you. Before I depart for Holy Terra, I intend to settle matters once and for all with Richter and his heretics, and leave the crusade in a much stronger position.’
Cardinal Septimus shot Macharius a surprised look. Clearly he had not been expecting anything like this. ‘How do you propose to do that, Lord High Commander?’ he asked.
Macharius tapped the side of his nose. ‘At the moment that must remain a secret, but I have discovered a huge flaw in the enemy’s defences.’
‘It is a pity that you could not have discovered it earlier,’ said General Crassus. All eyes swivelled to look at him. It was a direct criticism of the supreme commander and not one anybody would have dared voice in the past. It was a measure of how much respect for Macharius had slipped, and yet there was something about the Lord High Commander’s manner that had indeed unsettled his potential successors. No one rushed to support Crassus. Everyone waited to hear what Macharius had to say.
He smiled with all his old charm. ‘All of us make mistakes, old comrade,’ he said. ‘Even you have.’
The words hung in the air, leaving everyone to wonder whether Macharius meant during some past campaign or whether he was referring to the current campaign to have him replaced. It was an ambiguity no one, least of all General Crassus, seemed to want to have cleared up.
‘How long will this take?’ Cardinal Septimus asked.
‘No more than a month,’ said Macharius. ‘Certainly no longer than it will take for your ship to be prepared for the long voyage to Terra.’
‘It would perhaps be as well for you to inform us of the weaknesses you have discovered in the defences of Loki,’ said General Tarka. ‘In case anything should happen to you.’
He sounded serious – he clearly hadn’t lost all of his respect for Macharius’s military prowess. He believed that if Macharius said he had found a flaw then a flaw there must be. It was only natural. With a record like Macharius’s, most people would have believed that.
‘What could possibly happen to me here on Acheron?’ said Macharius. ‘I am surrounded by the finest troops of the Imperium. No enemy threatens. I am in perfect health.’
Tarka opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then snapped it closed again. I wondered if Drake was the only one who had access to the Lord High Commander’s medical records. Such a thing was supposed to be a very closely guarded secret, but bribes could buy almost anything provided they were big enough.