Minka pressed her hand against the symbol and said a brief and heartfelt prayer. She felt a deep sadness as well, thinking of Rath Sturm coming here, five years before, wondering what his return to Cadia might bring.

If he had dared to hope in that moment, his hopes had been cruelly served.

Minka sat down and took in a deep breath. She really ought to go to her platoon, but just at this moment she needed a few moments alone.

At last she pushed herself up and looked about. This place felt less alien now, she thought. This church had seen centuries of devotion from loyal troopers. It had been seized by a brief madness, but she knew that the blood would be cleaned away, the defaced shrines restored, the statues of Imperial saints returned to their niches, and it would serve again as a place of solace for troopers like her, who fought and died for the Imperium of Mankind.

She walked out into the darkling gloom. She found her platoon where she had left them, but now the grog had done its work and they were lying back with their helmets in their laps.

Baine held the bottle up. ‘We saved you some,’ he said.

Minka took it and poured out a libation for the loyal souls of Traitor Rock.

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Seventh Company of the Cadian 101st, ‘Hell’s Last’, stood to alert at the graveside. In the front rank was Minka. She could not see the mass grave through the tears that kept welling up. In the trench there were the bodies of hundreds of her former comrades, but there was one there whose presence stung her hardest.

It had been a brief but terrible campaign. But the Cadians had conquered. They had crushed the rebellion. This meant that, at last, they could move on.

But none of that mattered to Minka now. Nor did the lieutenant stripes that she wore on her arm, and the confidence she had found in handling her troops in combat.

A trumpet blew as Father Keremm stepped forward and made a short prayer.

Once, Cadians had buried their own under Cadian soil in the fields of tombs she had trained beside as a Whiteshield. That was no longer a choice available to them. Their dead comrades lay wreathed in black shawls embroidered with the aquila and the Cadian Gate.

When Keremm’s prayers had come to an end the troopers of Seventh Company filed past, one by one, and threw in a handful of soil.

Minka waited until Chief Commissar Shand had paid his respects and moved off. She did not throw hers until she was standing over the place where Dido lay. The lieutenant’s body was distinctive. It was short and broad and lean.