993.M30.
Aboard the Shadow's Sovereignty, Upper Deck.
The maple desk, gifted to House Carpinus by the Emperor, had been moved to the quarters assigned to Petronella Vivar. But her progress had been far less than she'd hoped.
To date, the remembrancer had not even met Primarch Nareth in person, let alone secured his agreement for her to write his biography.
Petronella's closest encounter had been on the compliant world 33-81. But just as she had been granted permission to set foot on the surface, the Primarch's black Aquilla Lander had already risen.
She remembered the words of the 33rd Expedition Fleet's chief Iterator, Weilan, spoken to her with a sigh.
"Lady Carpinus, my experience of over a century in this fleet tells me that people like us will never have our moment here."
"I had no choice, but you do."
"You should go to another Expedition Fleet. Follow another Primarch."
"No moment of my own?" Petronella clenched her only possession from that unremarkable world: two photographs.
"I didn't come here to be a photographer."
She set the photos aside and opened a labelled leather portfolio, murmuring to herself.
The repeated readings had left faint wear marks on the leather ties.
She drew out a thick stack of over a thousand sheets of parchment.
With her moistened right hand, she carefully arranged the topmost photograph.
A photograph of Lord Nareth.
Lord Nareth was renowned, but photographs of him were rare.
The photograph Petronella possessed came from the sculptor who had erected Lord Nareth's statue in the Heroes' Square, taken with the Primarch's own permission.
He stood at ease, yet radiated martial vigor. His perfect physique was as majestic as the statue she so often gazed upon.
Petronella stared at the photograph for a long time, her eyes full of longing.
'Petronella, you can do this.'
Her gaze moved to the documents in her hand, occasionally tapping her datapad with a golden memory quill.
As she read, sparks of inspiration sometimes touched the quill, and its organic crystal core captured her surface thoughts, displaying fragments of High Gothic.
They were the wellspring of her inspiration.
[The Great Crusade…]
[Commander of the Rangdan Wars... Conqueror of the xenos... Destroyer of the Mitus... Liberator of the Coronid Deeps... Ever-Victorious One over the Enemies of Mankind…]
[Bloody Monarch...]
"I didn't travel all this way from Terra for things I could have gotten from my comfortable bed."
Petronella set down the documents, looking at her datapad.
Her gaze swept over the words, settling on 'Bloody Sovereign', a term only whispered in discreet circles by Terran nobles.
In her time as House Carpinus's senior court representative, she had heard dozens of Terran nobles mention it briefly, their voices tinged with poorly concealed fear.
Suddenly, Petronella's eyes lit up. "Of course."
She swiveled her cushioned chair, pressing the call button on the edge of her desk.
"Your command?"
"Babes, the velvet gown. The crimson one with the high collar."
"As you wish, my lady."
Six minutes later, Petronella, aided by her maid, had changed into the velvet gown.
She picked up the file, stamped with the Imperial Aquila, and walked out of her suite's inner chamber.
"Open!"
At the sound of her voice, the door slid open smoothly.
She stepped out. The golden eyes of her bodyguard, Maggard, swiveled to look at her.
Maggard's eyes were not natural. They were precision-engineered, expensive bionic implants, replacing his own at the behest of House Carpinus's chirurgeons, to better protect important family members.
Clad in gold ringmail and silver chainmail, he bowed his head slightly, awaiting his lady's command.
"We are going to see Arsena Dunn, Lord Nareth's attendant."
Moments later, in the Primarch's Palace, in the attendant's office.
Arsena, holding a document, his narrow eyes examining its details.
It was written in the Regent's own hand; Arsena had seen it when negotiating with Malcador on the Black Emperor's behalf.
The short, angular strokes and the many abbreviations suggested the Regent had snatched the time from pressing state affairs.
The sweeping tail of the letters indicated Malcador was preoccupied, but had still made time for the Carpinus court representative.
"Lady Carpinus, I will relay your meeting request to my Lord."
Petronella lifted her chin. "Mr. Dunn, I also have a message for Lord Nareth."
"What is it?" Arsena's narrow blue eyes studied the colorful lips of the Carpinus noble.
"I can offer Lord Nareth something no one else can," Petronella said, rising gracefully, clutching her elegant handbag, clasped with gold, as she walked away.
...
"She can offer me something of value," Nareth said, leaning back in his throne, an amused expression on his face.
"Yes, my Lord, that is what she said," the silver-haired Arsena confirmed.
Petronella Vivar.
Nareth was not unfamiliar with her. In his memory, after Horus had become Warmaster, she had left the Terran court for the 63rd Expedition Fleet.
She had won Horus's favor, becoming his personal chronicler, recording his deeds and glories for posterity.
On Davin, she had wept as she watched Horus fall, writing the iconic line: "I witnessed with my own eyes the fall of Horus."
After Horus emerged from the Davin temple, she had become his confessor, recording his conflicted thoughts, and was the only one to know his true feelings about the destruction of Aureus.
Of course, Nareth had already taken Aureus. This technocracy, with its powerful forge capabilities and a complete, independent STC system, had contributed the new power armor technology that had been used in the development of Mark IV.
The Orios' portable solar generator, the second of the two STCs Horus had acquired besides the power armor, could meet the power needs of the Epsilon-5 forge complex.
After Lian Ramilies's modifications, it had also been used to power the teleportarium arrays, increasing energy efficiency by 36.8%.
The Techmarines were still studying its applications for fortresses and other structures.
The fallen Horus would never allow anyone else to know what he had seen, what he had done, and most importantly, his grand designs for the future.
In the end, Horus apologized to Petronella and broke her neck with his own hands.
That moment marked his final commitment to the path he had chosen.
Nareth gathered his thoughts, glancing at the brass clock on the wall.
"I will see her at eleven."
'Miss Vivar, "I witnessed with my own eyes the fall of Horus." You will not see my fall.' A fire flickered in Nareth's eyes.
"By Your will, my Lord."
Nareth's gaze shifted to the corner of the office. The hand of Marika, who was organizing documents, trembled slightly.
He had dispatched Chief Apothecary, the "Scarlet Scholar" Mikael, to ensure the surgery, personally performed by Aevos Jovan, the former First Medical Officer of the Solar Auxilia, would save Lemuel Gaumon's wife.
To ensure he could influence Lemuel, one of the future four founders of the Inquisition, Nareth had decided to "corrode" Marika, appointing her as a scribe.
He soon discovered Marika loved and excelled at the work.
He noticed that her comprehension and memory rivaled those of a Sequence 9 "Reader."
Perhaps her memory had been scrambled by the astrocytoma, and recovery had made her especially fond of mentally demanding work.
Or perhaps the diluted Omegon's blood in the medication had strengthened her mind.
Most likely, Aevos's miraculous medical skill had not only healed her but also enhanced her cognitive abilities.
Of course, a Primarch's scribe was a highly visible position, so Marika had taken the alias Lorraine.
'House Carpinus and the Sanga lord are both in Nordafrik Conclaves. Marika may have encountered Petronella Vivar.'
'Even if they haven't met, House Carpinus is a formidable power on Terra, especially in Nordafrik Conclaves. If Miss Vivar chooses to investigate, she may well discover Lorraine's true identity.'
With that thought, Nareth summoned Marika, whom he had already "corroded."
"Lorraine."
"My lord." Marika put down her work, walked quickly to the desk, and bowed.
When she had awakened, she had been aboard the Shadow's Sovereignty.
To her astonishment, she had found herself the focus of a Primarch's attention.
She soon realized that Lord Nareth himself had saved her.
It seemed impossible. She was just the daughter of a Sanga lord, the wife of Lemuel Gaumon. Why would such a magnificent figure as a Primarch have orchestrated her rescue?
She could never repay him. All she could do was work diligently, checking every file for even the smallest classification error.
"Your work is meticulous and effective," Nareth said, smiling at the nervous Marika.
"I am pleased."
"You should take on greater responsibility. I am appointing you as Scribe of Vostroya."
"As you may have noticed, the files you currently handle have already been classified. Once you are in Vostroya, you will liaise with the various departments, verifying and creating the documents themselves."
Marika knew Vostroya was the world where Lord Nareth had been found, the homeworld of the Shadows of Order.
His appointment as Scribe of Vostroya was a sign of his trust.
Marika bowed. "My lord, I can never repay you for giving me a second life."
"I will give my all in your service."
"Arsena, you will escort Marika on my behalf," Nareth said, looking at his attendant.
Arsena understood. "By Your will, my Lord."
Nareth watched Marika follow Arsena out of the office. The recent prayer of Hathor Maat, Chief Librarian of the Thousand Sons, came to mind.
"My Lord, the man you commanded me to watch, Lemuel Gaumon, has become a remembrancer of the 15th Legion."
"He is friends with the historgrapher Kallista Eris and the architectural archeohistorian Camille Shivani."
...
Term Correction
Bloody Sovereign -> Bloody Monarch
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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