EVANGELINE
The Unbroken Vow’s main cathedral is a massive space, easily the equal of the minor halls of worship on Ophelia VII, with thick, armaglass windows stained with depictions of saints and martyrs, of the history of our Order, and of the Imperial Cult. In most of them I see Saint Katherine. In one she stands alongside Alicia Dominica as the tyrant Vandire is beheaded. In another, she bears a flaming sword, cutting down a mirrored mutant. In yet another, she holds her own heart in her hands, burning brightly.
Beyond the armaglass the stars track slowly as the Vow moves away from the rest of the crusade fleet, and away from our home, accompanied by two Navy escorts, the Wanderer and the Northward Star.
‘My Sisters.’
The Canoness’ voice draws my eyes from the saint, and the void. Elivia stands at the pulpit, her gauntleted hands resting on the carved stone. One of the Vow’s cherubim lingers by her shoulder, a vox-amplifier grafted into its chest and throat to propel Elivia’s voice to all of those arrayed before her. Not that she needs it. Elivia’s words carry with ease across the vaulted hall.
‘Our astropaths have received a message from the Convent Prioris, on Terra.’
Nobody in the cathedral speaks a word, but I feel a tensing in my Sisters at the utterance of those names. A fervour. Few amongst us have ever set foot in the Sol System. Never mind on the Throneworld itself.
‘The message was harried and tattered by the storms, but the meaning remains clear.’ Elivia pauses, and frowns. ‘The Praesidium Protectiva, the Shield of Our Martyred Lady, is lost beyond the Great Rift.’
This time, there are words muttered. Prayers, and benedictions. The cherubim keen and there is a hum of armour plate as my Sisters make the aquila sign all around me.
Elivia holds up her hand, and all falls quiet again. All falls still.
‘Even now, the cardinals senior and the servants of the Orders seek the Shield’s whereabouts,’ Elivia says. ‘We will go to Terra to receive their guidance before striking out into the darkness beyond the Great Rift in search of the Shield.’
Elivia pauses again. Her eyes find me in the crowd.
No, I think, all over again. Please do not say it.
‘The Shield’s location is as yet unknown,’ Elivia says, her eyes still fixed on mine. ‘But there is one amongst us who is set to find it. She who is marked by His favour. Burned but not butchered. Sister Evangeline.’
Nobody moves to look at me, but I feel their attention nonetheless. It is like waking in the hospitaller’s ward all over again, with a light shining so brightly upon me that I cannot speak or move. My lungs refuse the cold, smoke-spiced air.
‘See to your preparations, my Sisters,’ Elivia says. ‘Arm and armour yourselves for the crusade yet to come.’
She lifts her hands from the pulpit and closes the right over her heart, her eyes still fixed on me.