by Andy Clark
‘Acknowledged,’ he replied, then switched vox channels to the two lances converging on the crash site. ‘This is High King Danial,’ he said. ‘Sires and ladies, report.’
‘In Excelsium Furore, sire,’ replied one of the Knights, quoting House Draconis’ motto. ‘This is Sire Colwyn Dar Draconis. My lance is approaching the crash site now from the north-east. Converging with Lady Tamsane Dar Pegasson who approaches from north-west.’
‘What do you see, Colwyn?’ asked Danial, accelerating his steed and steering it onto the roadway leading south.
‘There’s a rising plume of smoke from the site,’ said Colwyn. ‘I suspect it’s from localised brush fires. The wreck is sighted, sire. It’s dug a trench a good mile long, looks like a controlled crash. Yes, confirming the wreck is intact, sire. There’s movement…’
‘Who was on board, Sire Colwyn?’ asked Danial. ‘Friend or foe?’
‘They’re Imperials,’ said Colwyn. ‘But… sire, I think you need to see this in person. We will contain until your arrival.’
‘Understood,’ said Danial, keeping the curiosity out of his voice. ‘We’re on our way.’
The Exalted Courts of Houses Draconis and Pegasson approached the crash site from the north with their Crawlers rumbling at their heels. They strode across the grasslands of the Valatane. The Knights of House Draconis bore proud heraldry of quartered crimson and black chased with gold. Those of Pegasson were ice blue and white. All carried imposing weapons mounting pennants and banners that fluttered proudly in the wind. Their lumen swept the darkened plains before them, and the ground shook at their coming.
Ahead, Danial saw the Knights of Lances Colwyn and Tamsane, arrayed in a loose circle around the still-burning wreck. As he walked his steed along the line of the trench, he saw human figures clustered near it, most standing, a couple laid out in the grass showing no lifesigns.
‘Not many souls for a craft that size,’ commented Markos.
Danial magnified his auspex and studied the strangers that stood beside the wreck.
The group was eight strong, and as eclectic a gathering as Danial had ever seen. There was a hunched old man with augmetic quills for hands and a cranium full of wires, clad in elaborately inscribed robes of cloth and parchment. A pair of female figures waited nearby, clad head to toe in black, rubberised bodygloves. Their face-masks bore skull designs, and their lithe bodies were adorned with sheathed blades. Near them was a tall, skeletal man, clad in the robes of an astropath, and a woman in Cadian Kasrkin battle armour, her helmet tucked into the crook of an arm. Stranger still was the ape-like xenos squatted on its haunches at their side, glowing gewgaws hanging from the crossbelts it wore.
The group’s leader stood out like a graven statue. The man wore pearl-white power armour chased with gold, over which was draped a wine-red cloak. His features were hawkish and noble, his dark skin inscribed with golden filigree tattoos. Yet the detail that held Danial’s attention was the stylised letter ‘I’ at the centre of the man’s breast-plate, and replicated upon his cloak.
Danial took a moment to calm his thoughts and let his mind work over the situation. Then he activated his steed’s vox-amplifier.
‘I am High King Danial Tan Draconis,’ he said, his voice rolling over the plains. ‘I am the ruler of this world. Identify yourself and your intent.’
The power armoured man calmly gazed up at Oath of Flame, untroubled by the battery of titan-killing weapons aimed at him from every side.
‘Emperor’s blessings upon you, High King Danial Tan Draconis,’ he said, his deep voice carrying easily to Oath’s audio-receptors. ‘I am Tane Massata, and I am an agent of the Emperor’s most holy ordos of the Inquisition. I come to you with a warning and a duty, High King. I pray that neither comes too late.’
Outsider, hissed the ghosts of Danial’s throne. Could be a liar, too. Sometimes foes come clad in the guise of friends. What if this one is a threat?
Massata tapped the design on his breast-plate in a series of quick motions. A hololithic lens activated on his armour and an Inquisitorial rosette appeared, projected in the air before him. At the same time, data streamed into Danial’s manifold, code-packets confirming beyond doubt that the man spoke the truth.
‘My thanks, inquisitor,’ said Danial. With a blink-click, he ordered his Knights to shroud their weapons and raise their auto-pennants in honour of the new arrival. ‘We were told of your coming five years ago, directly after our return from Donatos. It was presumed, when you did not arrive, that your ship was lost upon the empyric tides.’
‘It was,’ said Massata. ‘We endured months of peril, while in real space, years passed. It was by the Emperor’s grace that we broke free and at last reached your world.’
‘You spoke of a warning and a duty?’ asked Danial. He paused, considering his next words carefully. ‘With respect, inquisitor, do you threaten us?’
‘No, King Danial,’ said Massata. ‘Originally I came to excise any remnants of the taint within spread by the traitors to your world. Yet now I bear warning, also, of a terrible threat from without. One upon your very threshold.’
‘What manner of threat?’ asked Danial. ‘Explain.’
‘There is little time,’ said Inquisitor Massata. ‘These are matters best spoken of in private.’
Danial felt a chill at Massata’s words, but there were practicalities to be taken care of, and the Code to be followed. He blink-clicked several runes in his peripheral vision, sending coded commands flashing away through the noosphere.
‘We thank you for bringing us these warnings, inquisitor, and we will hear them in closed chambers shortly. Our Sacristan Crawlers will provide you with transportation, and Knights shall escort you. What can be done for your fallen?’
‘Thank you,’ said Massata. ‘They are beyond help. My pilot and my medicae, both killed in the crash.’
‘We honour their sacrifice,’ said Danial. ‘And now, inquisitor, my Knights and I will return to our encampment. Let us reconvene in my habitent shortly.’
‘As you wish, King Danial,’ said Massata.
Danial’s habitent was somewhat less grand than the magnificent abode his father had taken on campaign. A large, dome-shaped structure in the colours of House Draconis, it contained a sleeping area, a strategic holocaster, equipment racks for his weapons and armour, a small shrine to the Emperor and a large table with sufficient chairs for a full war council. His personal effects were minimal, with the exception of an unfolded auto-trunk whose shelves were crammed with books.
He sat in his throne at the head of the table, while the Marchioness Tan Pegasson and the Knights of their respective Exalted Courts sat around him. No other had been permitted within the tent. Danial had even sent away his house serviles.
‘We are sure that this man is who he claims to be?’ asked Jennika.
‘I am,’ said Danial. ‘The full nature of the Emperor’s Inquisition is set out within the Tome of Kings. The rosette he carries also corroborates his identity. Such technology is typically gene-locked, and impossible to replicate or steal.’
‘That doesn’t mean he’s an ally though,’ said Markos. ‘By reputation, inquisitors aren’t exactly friendly characters.’
‘We do not know his agenda, it is true,’ said Lauret. ‘But we must listen, analyse and understand. Such individuals speak with the Emperor’s voice. They are not to be questioned or gainsaid lightly.’
A rune winked in Danial’s peripheral vision – data sent from his crown.
‘Guard your tongues and do as the Marchioness counsels,’ said Danial. ‘This man has the authority to kill worlds. We will respect the weight of his office, and not antagonise him needlessly.’
The habitent’s gas curtain opened, and the inquisitor strode in. Up close, the man’s physicality was imposing, his power armour thrumming. Danial noted the short-hafted power axe mag-locked t
o the inquisitor’s hip. He reckoned it could cut through an armoured bodyglove like cloth.
‘Inquisitor Massata,’ he said, standing and bowing. The assembled Knights followed his lead. ‘Will you take a seat, my lord?’
Massata nodded before sitting heavily. The Knights seated themselves again.
‘My thanks,’ said Massata. ‘Why have my retinue been excluded from these proceedings?’
‘They refused to part with their weapons,’ said Jennika, locking eyes with the inquisitor.
‘Reasonable,’ said Massata, ‘if unnecessary. They intend you no harm.’
‘Inquisitor,’ said Danial, ‘you spoke of dangers to our world. I would ask you to elaborate now.’
‘There is a vast ork fleet moving through deep space beyond the Mandeville point of your system,’ said Massata. ‘It will fall upon your world within days.’
‘How do you know this?’ asked Danial. ‘We have had no warning from our orbital auguries of these xenos.’
‘Or of an Inquisitorial lander falling through our atmosphere,’ muttered Markos.
‘You will soon enough,’ said Massata. ‘They must be approaching your outer system beacons by now. My ship escaped its imprisonment upon the tides of the warp only to land straight in the jaws of the greenskins.’
‘With respect, inquisitor, you seem remarkably alive, considering,’ said Markos.
Massata turned his steady gaze upon the herald.
‘The Emperor shields his true servants until their purpose is done, and my ship captain was a master of her trade. We broke warp amidst the orks’ advance elements, a flotilla of warships all far smaller than my own, and of vastly inferior quality. There appeared to be some form of internecine conflict already occurring between the orks, leading many of their craft to be damaged. I thank the Emperor for that.’
‘Where is your ship now?’ asked Danial.
‘Lost, with all its hands,’ said Massata. ‘Captain Raniaraz turned her prow for your world while raking the orks with fire. Yet they pursued. Their numbers were too great for one ship to overcome. We were fortunate that the main bulk of the horde was far behind, but still, by the time we reached the inner system, the Light of Truth was sorely damaged. Raniaraz turned to fight, and in doing so, bought time for myself and my retinue to escape aboard a dropship.’
‘You are all that survived?’ said Danial.
‘My duty compelled me to abandon them. They died bravely and in the Emperor’s service.’
‘Lady Jennika,’ said Danial. ‘Establish vox with the Draconspire. Marchioness, do the same with the Pegassus’ Eyrie. Have them sweep the fringes of the system and report back at once. Check for word from Mount Imperius, also. If there’s something out there, the astropathic conclave will surely have sensed it.’
Tense minutes passed as Danial and his Knights awaited confirmation of Massata’s story. Massata sat patiently, refusing to be further drawn upon the greenskin threat, while around him, the Knights spoke urgently of strategies, supply lines and defensive strengths. Then Jennika nodded, frowning as she listened to her vox.
‘Mount Imperius has been compiling readings for almost an hour,’ she said. ‘They were preparing to send word. Several astropaths are catatonic. The rest are reporting visions of a great beast, its jaws closing upon our world. Some say they can hear war drums thundering in the void.’
‘My court seer warns of the same, High King Danial,’ said Lauret. ‘The deep void augury is starting to pick up signals on the system’s edge, from beyond Borastus and Lamnofor. Something is coming.’
The Knights looked at one another, and in their eyes Danial saw his own thoughts reflected. Dismay that such a threat loomed, determination to protect their world, but behind it all the growing excitement of a righteous war to be fought in the Emperor’s name.
‘Our thanks for bringing this warning, Inquisitor Massata,’ Danial said. ‘You understand that my comrades and I must return to our seats of power at once. House Minotos must be alerted. Defences must be prepared. You will be accommodated under guard until the necessary military clearance can be approved for you and your followers.’
‘King Danial,’ said Massata, ‘it is not so simple as that.’
‘How so, inquisitor?’
‘My original duty remains,’ said the inquisitor. ‘In fact, it is now long overdue. Though great peril descends upon this world, I cannot risk further delay. Adrastapol has felt the touch of Chaos, and it is my sworn mission to eradicate that sickness, if it has not already festered afresh.’
‘With respect, inquisitor, that matter is long behind us,’ said Danial. ‘We were exacting in our purges. The Ministorum presided over every rite and cleansing. Both seats of Houses Wyvorn and Chimaeros were levelled with artillery fire, and the catacombs beneath them purged with flame. Rites of banishment and reconsecration were spoken over the ruins. The last Knights of those houses were either put to death or, if pronounced untainted by our priests, banished as Freeblades.’
‘I have spent my life battling the agents of Chaos,’ said Massata. ‘I don’t doubt that you were as thorough as you could be. I am not questioning your faith. But however deep you believe the corruption went, I assure you that it ran deeper.’
‘It has been five years, inquisitor,’ said Jennika. ‘Do you not think that we would have seen some sign in that time, if such a threat existed?’
‘Chaos is insidious, my lady,’ said Massata. ‘I am saying that it is my sworn duty to ensure your world does not still harbour traitor elements. Until I have confirmed this to the Inquisition’s satisfaction, Adrastapol enjoys a stay of execution only. Two of your world’s Noble Houses turned traitor. If you were of less value to the Imperium, you would have greeted a spread of cyclonic torpedoes, not myself and my retinue.’
Deafening silence reigned around the table. Danial broke it.
‘What do you seek to do, inquisitor, and how can we assist you? We are a loyal world, and we will comply fully with whatever investigations you must perform.’
‘Good,’ said Massata. ‘I have no desire to see the strength of this world wasted. It is my intention to travel to the former seat of House Chimaeros, where the traitors Alicia and Gerraint fomented their rebellion, to satisfy myself that the matter is truly dealt with. For this, I will require transport and assurance that I will remain unmolested while I conduct my investigation.’
‘You shall have both,’ said Danial. ‘Moreover, you shall have an honour guard. A shuttle would be quicker, but if you will consent to travel on the ground, I can provide you with a heavy hauler to transport your retinue and a lance of Knights to watch over you. Should you find the danger you fear, their firepower will prove invaluable.’
‘Thank you, King Danial,’ said Massata. ‘It will be as you say.’
‘I beg permission to lead the lance,’ said Jennika.
‘You are First Knight,’ Danial replied. ‘Your warriors will have need of you.’
‘They have you, my liege,’ said Jennika. ‘And the rest of the Exalted Court. If the inquisitor is right, and the witch’s corruption still taints our world, then we cannot leave outsiders to see to its destruction. The Code compels us.’
Danial deliberated in silence before voicing his decision.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Very well. Inquisitor Massata, my First Knight Jennika Tan Draconis will lead your escort. There is no finer blade upon this world to aid you in your hunt.’
‘I am honoured,’ said Massata.
‘Then we are done here,’ said Danial, rising from his throne. He exchanged a look with his sister. ‘Lady Jennika, aid the inquisitor in making whatever preparations he requires, and go with the Emperor’s grace. The rest of you, we look to our world’s defence. In Excelsium Furore. Let the draconsfire burn bright within you.’
Sire Percivane’s steed crested a rocky ridge. Firesto
rm handled the terrain with ease, and came to a halt overlooking the Lanceway. The wide ferrocrete road stretched from the gate of the Draconspire, all the way across the north Valatane to the foothills of the Adrapotines. It was an arterial route for trade and transport. Like a great river, it had many, smaller tributaries that branched off to cut through the grasslands, past fields and agriplexes, copses of olidarne trees and Ministorum shrines.
Now the Lanceway seethed with refugee traffic, from rugged groundcars and lumbering agri-transporters to stridecradles, wagons and the thousands who went on foot. Lowing beasts were herded along by prod-armed servitors. Preachers led huddled masses of serfs and serviles, their worldly belongings hefted on their backs and their infant children cradled in their arms. Some sung prayers. Others wept or watched the skies fearfully.
‘Sire Percivane to all Knights,’ he voxed as the river of refugees swept by below. ‘Please confirm progress in your sectors.’
‘This is Sire Reikard,’ crackled a voice, ‘confirming steady advance in sector one. The head of the column advances unhindered, Sire Percivane. No sign of enemy contacts and no complications thus far. We’re only two miles now from the Draconspire gate. Passing the Northrise Battery.’
‘Sire Calluhm,’ came another voice. ‘Sector three is moving steadily. An agri-tiller has broken down near the junction with the westerway, but Sacristan Gau had his Crawler haul the machine clear to minimise traffic obstruction. Its owners were persuaded to abandon their machine and proceed on foot.’
‘The Emperor smiles upon your efforts,’ said Percivane. ‘Remain vigilant for gurghol in that region. I believe their territory extends beyond the junction through the woods to the east. Lady Kassendra, what of sector four?’
‘Sector four is moving well,’ came Kassendra’s reply. ‘The tail of the column is fifteen miles from the Draconspire gate. No sign of hazards at this time. Also, I would like to commend the militia for their continued efforts at preventing stragglers from falling behind.’