'Indeed he was,' agreed Togandis. 'Indeed he was. No inspiring speeches before a battle, just orders, precise, never to be meddled with, orders.'
That was certainly true, remembered Nisato. As a cadet commissar when Leto Barbaden had taken command of the Achaman Falcatas, Nisato had summarily executed a number of junior officers who had seen fit to exercise their own initiative in their interpretation of Barbaden's orders.
Leto Barbaden did not like to be second-guessed and nor did he expect his orders to be carried out with anything less than total obedience. As far as Nisato knew, the years since Barbaden's relinquishing of command had not mellowed him and thus he had put aside his current investigations into Sons of Salinas activity and headed straight for the palace upon receiving his summons.
Until he had met Togandis, Nisato had assumed that it had something to do with this morning's attack on Colonel Kain's convoy as it had made its way back into the city. Seeing the Chimeras supported that, but the cardinal's presence suggested that some other business was afoot.
'Such a terrible business with Governor Barbaden's former adjutant, eh?'
'I'm sorry?' said Nisato, surprised at this sudden, unexpected, question.
'Hanno Merbal?' said Togandis. 'He shot himself right in front of you, I hear?'
'Yes,' replied Nisato, his interest piqued, 'he did.'
'He was a friend of yours, was he not?' asked Togandis and Nisato wanted to laugh at the cardinal's attempt at nonchalance.
'He was,' confirmed Nisato. Keep the answers short, he thought. Let Togandis do the talking.
'Hmmm, yes,' said Togandis. 'Have you any idea why he would do such a thing?'
'You tell me, Shavo,' said Nisato. 'You were his confessor, weren't you?'
'I was indeed, Daron,' replied Togandis, scorn dripping from the use of his first name, 'but the fact of which I am sure you are cognisant remains that the seal of the confessional is a sacred trust that cannot be broken.'
'Even in death?'
'Especially in death,' said Togandis. 'The sins of the confessed are in the hands of the Emperor. I can tell you he was having some issues with, shall we say, guilt, though.'
'Over this?' asked Nisato, pulling out the golden eagle medal that Hanno Merbal had shown him right before blowing his brains out all over the bar.
Togandis looked away from the medal and Nisato was enough of an enforcer to know guilt when he saw it. Once again Togandis dabbed at his moist forehead.
'I… I haven't thought of Khaturian in a long time,' said Togandis, and Nisato smelled a lie.
'You were there?' asked Nisato and Togandis flinched.
Nisato already knew the answer; Togandis wore an identical medal on the front of his chasuble.
'I was, yes,' agreed Togandis hurriedly, 'but I took no part in the fighting.'
'From what I gather there wasn't much fighting.'
Togandis did not reply at first and Nisato thought the cardinal was going to ignore the question, but the man whispered. 'No, there wasn't, but…'
'But?' pressed Nisato, eager to learn what he could of this most unspoken of battles.
Before Togandis had a chance to answer, a formal voice said, 'Enforcer Nisato, Cardinal Togandis, Governor Barbaden is ready to see you now. If you will follow me please.'
Nisato cursed inwardly and mustered a smile as he looked away from Togandis to the blandly smiling face of Mersk Eversham.
Eversham's face was thin and angular, but his body, beneath the elegantly cut frock coat, was solid and unbreakable. Nisato had seen Eversham in combat enough times to know that the man was a ferocious killer and he wondered how Barbaden had persuaded him to muster out of the regiment. He was an anomaly within the Falcatas, a man of culture and breeding who could have easily become an officer, but had chosen to enlist in the rank and file.
Now he served as Leto Barbaden's aide, attendant, personal secretary and bodyguard, having long ago replaced the now-deceased Hanno Merbal. Nisato had no doubt that Eversham was armed with a number of concealed firearms and blades.
'Mersk,' said Nisato, nodding. 'You're keeping well?'
'Well enough,' said Eversham. 'Now if you please.'
'Of course, of course,' fussed Togandis. 'Come on, Daron. We mustn't keep the good governor waiting, must we?'
'No,' said Nisato, 'we wouldn't want that.'
He saw the faint suggestion of a smug grin on Eversham's face and resisted the urge to wipe it off. Instead, he followed Barbaden's killer and the cardinal as a detachment of red-jacketed soldiers formed up around them, falcatas bright in the sunlight.
The symbolism was obvious and heavy handed, but Nisato paid it no mind as they were led into the palace, down twisting corridors, up cramped screw stairs and through echoing, cold chambers bereft of warming fires or laughter.
Eversham offered no more in the way of conversation and Togandis's normal extravagant garrulousness vanished in the face of the palace's austerity. They marched in silence until the soldiers halted at the end of a long, portrait-lined hallway. At the end of the corridor, Nisato saw the slight, stooped form of Mesira Bardhyl and felt a familiar protective urge towards the woman.
She had always been a nervous creature and had been treated foully when she had served as Barbaden's pet psyker.
The years since Restoration Day had been no kinder to her as far as Nisato could tell.
'This way,' said Eversham, though the route was familiar to both Nisato and Togandis.
They followed Eversham along the hallway, Togandis making a show of admiring the portraits of previous colonels of the Falcatas, and Nisato wondering what the cardinal had been about to say before Eversham had interrupted.
Mesira greeted them with a shy smile and a nod, and Nisato saw dark hollows beneath her eyes and noted how the skin seemed to sag on her sparse frame. Togandis studiously ignored Mesira as Eversham knocked tersely on the wide wooden doors at the end of the hallway. Barbaden's equerry paused just long enough to hear an imperious command to enter before sweeping into the room.
Nisato, Togandis and Mesira followed Eversham into the room, a spacious and extensive library furnished with long tables and floor to ceiling bookcases.
Governor Leto Barbaden sat, perched on the room's central table.
Tall, lean and dark-haired, Leto Barbaden's ascetic frame was dressed in an immaculately cut suit that echoed the pomp of a military uniform in its brass buttons, lined trousers and gleaming boots, but which was undeniably civilian. A line of medal ribbons decorated his left breast, but they were understated and dignified.
Barbaden's face was handsome, his dark hair and neatly trimmed beard sprinkled liberally with silver, but his eyes were those of a predator.
As commanding a presence as Barbaden was, it was the two figures standing before him that completely captured Daron Nisato's attention. It was left to Shavo Togandis's surprise to give them name.
'Astartes,' breathed the cardinal.
Both were clad in pale robes with the hoods pulled back, the clothes looking absurdly small on their enhanced physiques. Both stood head and shoulders above Verena Kain and the armed soldiers who lined the walls of the library. One of the Space Marines was lean, if such a description could be applied to a two and a half metre-tall giant, while the other was a brute of a man whose arm was missing below the elbow.
To say Daron Nisato was astonished by this strange tableau was an understatement of colossal proportions.
'Ah, Daron, Shavo,' said Barbaden, his voice mellifluous, 'so glad you could join us.'
As if there was a choice, thought Nisato.
'We have guests,' continued Barbaden, 'and they claim to have a most fantastical tale.'