The Macharian Crusade: Angel of Fire

by William King

  I asked myself, what would happen if he was wrong? What would happen if the lava was simply flowing into some random pattern and he had simply perceived something that was not there? I realised that the truth of the matter was that it didn’t matter. If Macharius was wrong, we were no worse off, and if he was right, we would soon be in a position to take the fight to the heretics.

  I looked at Ivan and I looked at Anton and I could see that they were both feeling better. The dread had departed from their faces and they looked as ready for action as I had ever seen them. Even Drake had perked up; he did not look quite so sick. He walked over to a comm-board and began typing in odd combinations on the runic keyboard. I guessed he was getting in touch with his agents within the army. In the midst of all this chaos, I was surprised when Macharius walked over to us. He placed his heavy hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Go outside, take a break. There will be a few hours before the preparations to advance are complete. I want you all with me when the final attack begins. You’ve brought me good luck this far and I’m not taking the chance of losing it before the end.’

  I was at once touched and frightened. I was touched by the fact that Macharius seemed to have some faith in us. I was frightened by the fact that even the great general seemed to believe that he was in need of all the luck he could get.

  People will tell you that the great commanders make their own luck, and there is a freighter-load of truth in that statement, but even Macharius seemed to feel he had to do everything he possibly could to stack the odds in his favour. Sometimes, luck is the only difference between victory and defeat. It was strange to see that even a man as confident as Macharius felt the need of some lucky talisman. It was even stranger to look at Anton and Ivan and the Understudy and think that that was what we were to him.

  We stepped outside. The dust had settled. As far as the eye could see were armoured vehicles. To the north an eerie glow lit the sky. Far, far off, the hive of Irongrad loomed, a shadowy mountain pierced by caverns of light. At its tip, a fire-winged angel stood ominously waiting. I knew it was not going to wait for long.

  ‘Well, we’re going with Macharius,’ Anton said.

  ‘I can tell you’re excited,’ said Ivan. He eyed the distant hive with a certain gloomy satisfaction, pulled out his hip flask and took a swig. He offered it to me.

  ‘I bloody well am, and so are you, don’t lie about it!’ Anton said. He knew Ivan too well to be fooled.

  I drank the fiery liquid. It tasted like Oily’s coolant fluid. I fought back the wave of memories the taste brought with it.

  ‘Well,’ Ivan asked, sad eyes gazing at me out of his ruined, half-metal face. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About all this. You think we have a chance?’

  ‘What does it matter what I think? We are going in.’

  ‘So you don’t then.’ His voice was flat and calm, a man discussing the chances of a dust storm coming in tomorrow morning.

  ‘I never said that,’ I said.

  ‘You didn’t have to.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Anton, ‘when we were back in the cathedral, did you think we would ever get out alive?’

  I shook my head. Ivan did the same.

  Anton banged his chest with his fist. ‘We’re still here.’

  ‘You know,’ said Ivan, ‘the idiot is right.’

  ‘Of course he is,’ said Anton. His mouth shut like a trap when he realised he had just agreed he was an idiot. He paused for a moment, then pulled out a lho stick and lit it. He coughed wheezily and said, ‘Maybe Macharius is lucky for us. Maybe it’s not that we are lucky for him.’

  ‘He wasn’t lucky for Hesse,’ I said.

  ‘I said for us,’ said Anton. There was an edge of desperation in his voice, as if he was looking for something to believe.

  ‘Go read your prop-nov, Anton,’ I said, not unkindly. ‘It’ll take your mind off things.’

  The bastard took me at my word. He sat down right there in the gritty sand, pulled the book from his chest-pocket, licked his finger and began flicking through the pages until he reached his favourite part. He squinted in concentration. Strange as it may sound, just looking at him and his dumb book gave me hope. Somehow he had managed to preserve the bloody thing through all the madness.

  He ran his finger along the lines, squinting with childish concentration, lips moving as he read the long familiar words. I was not sure I had his faith in Macharius but I had faith in him and Ivan. They would do what needed to be done.

  The Understudy emerged from the tent. He walked over to where we were and we saluted him and he saluted us but we did not say anything and neither did he. He simply walked a little further and stood there, back to us, staring into the distance, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was making us uncomfortable. Obviously he just did not care. He was entirely self-sufficient, completely on his own even in the teeming swarms surrounding the headquarters. For all that though, even he had chosen to come outside and stand in the proximity of his comrades.

  Perhaps there was still something human in there. Perhaps he simply needed that small crumb of comfort. Or maybe I am wrong, maybe he simply picked a random spot to stand and observe the great enemy in the distance. I am in no position to tell.

  Ivan took another swig from his flask and offered it up to Anton, who shook his head, so Ivan passed it on to me. While I was drinking, Ivan produced his magnoculars and focused them in the direction the Understudy was looking. I do not know what he saw. I never asked. I just took another sip of the cooling fluid and felt it burn its way down my throat.

  The Understudy stood there, still as a statue, his arms behind his back, his right hand clutching his left wrist. His head was tilted to one side as if he did not quite understand what he was seeing. Maybe he felt that way about the whole world. It had certainly changed for him. Eventually, he turned and walked back towards us.

  ‘You better turn in then,’ he said in his strange, rasping voice. ‘We’re going to have an early start tomorrow and the Lord High Commander wants us all to be ready.’

  ‘We haven’t been assigned quarters, sir,’ said Anton.

  ‘Then I suggest you make a billet here.’ He said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe, for him, it was. He sat down by the edge of the great flexi-metal tent and closed his eyes and went to sleep with the ease of a machine after it has been switched off. Anton shrugged, read a few more pages, then just altered his position so that he was lying down flat with his head pillowed on his arms and then he too was asleep. I looked at Ivan and handed him back the flask. He kept looking off into the distance and drinking. I’m sure he was tired but he did not seem to want to rest.

  ‘We’ve come a long way from Belial,’ Ivan said. He looked up at the sky, at the stars glittering coldly so far above. One of them might have been the sun around which Belial swung but I was damned if I could pick out which one. ‘A bloody long way.’

  I looked at his ruined face. The metal reflected the distant flames dully. I could remember times on other worlds when he had to put boot polish on it so we would not be spotted by the reflection when scouting.

  ‘Do you regret it?’ I asked. Of all of us, he had the most reason to. He had given more of his flesh and blood to the Emperor than any of us. He laughed softly and shook his head.

  ‘No. What would we be doing now if we were still on Belial? Working in a guild factorum?’

  ‘We’d most likely be dead,’ I said. ‘Those gangers wanted our hides.’

  He nodded. ‘Just think what it took to get us here. We pissed off the Big Man and his cronies and because of that we joined the Guard. If I hadn’t got you and Anton into this, none of us would be here.’

  He was right in his way. If Ivan had not tried to stop a couple of legbreakers collecting from Old Man Petrov, we would never have fallen foul of the local
gangs. He looked at me. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said.

  I shook my head. ‘Nothing to be sorry about. What was there for us on Belial – long hours in the guild factorum, dying broke and broken like my old man? At least this way we can say we did something! We saw other worlds. We saw wonders. Hell, we saw Space Marines!’

  He laughed softly. ‘We did, didn’t we? And we’re bodyguards of an Imperial High Commander. We’re going to be riding with Macharius. Who would ever have thought it?’

  I heard the pride in his voice at that. It meant more to him even than seeing those Space Marines. I was not quite so enthusiastic but I tried to say something. What was on my mind slipped out. ‘At least when we die, it might make a difference.’

  Ivan cocked his head to one side and let out a low whistle as he did, sometimes, when he was curious.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When we walk into the Emperor’s Light we will have done His will. We will have laid down our lives in His service, fighting His enemies. That’s got to count for something.’

  I think something of my desperation and fear showed in my tone.

  ‘Of course it does,’ he said with absolute certainty. ‘There is evil in this galaxy, we’ve both seen it and somebody has to do something about it.’

  I smiled at that. He had sounded just the same when we were boys. Beneath all the cynicism and the drinking and the anger, the same idealistic boy was present.

  ‘I was proud of you when you beat up those legbreakers,’ I said. I was too. I had been angry as well, knowing the trouble he had got us into, but now did not seem to be the time to say it. I looked over at the sleeping Anton. ‘He was too.’

  ‘I am not sure that’s a compliment.’ Something of his usual joshing tone returned, then he sighed. ‘He’s not so bad. You could ask for worse at your side when things get rough. He carried me on his back to the medicae station on Jurasik after the attack. Never left till I was patched up.’

  ‘I remember,’ I said. We had been in camp when the orks came roaring out of the jungle and smashed through the perimeter. No time to get into the Indomitable, just time enough to snatch up weapons and let fly. It had been touch and go then. No mistake.

  He laughed softly. ‘What do you think my sisters would say if they knew we were going to be bodyguards to Macharius tomorrow?’

  ‘They would not believe it. Neither would my old man. He always told me I would swing for heresy or something else.’ I thought about Anna and what she might say and I realised there was still a possibility he would be proved right.

  ‘Macharius is a great man,’ Ivan said. ‘A great general, a great leader. He will set the Imperium to rights. He’ll show these heretics what for too before we are done.’

  I truly wished I could share his faith in that. Ivan took a final swig at the flask and said, ‘I am going to turn in now. Might be the last chance to get some sleep for a while.’

  He just lay back, put his hands behind his head and nodded off. I sat there under the desert sky and studied the strange stars. A growing sense of doom was creeping over me. At some point, I left wakefulness behind but I cannot remember exactly when it was.

  The blood-red sun sprang over the horizon. The heat of the day was rising, causing the air over the ash deserts to shimmer. Engines throbbed all around us. Macharius emerged into the daylight to the cheers of assembled soldiers. He raised his hands in a gesture of triumph and strode towards the waiting Baneblade. It has been decorated in his own personal colours, with the Lion seal of his family on it. There was a name too inscribed in flowing Gothic script, The Lion of Macharius.

  I thought that showed considerable faith in his luck. If anyone knew what to look for, it would make the great tank a target. Or maybe not. Maybe anyone looking at it would suspect a trick. Or maybe I am just too devious for my own good.

  Macharius looked at us and gestured for us to come with him, so we did. I did not know what to expect but I followed him up the drop-down ladder and into the interior of the Baneblade. It had been modified more than a little. There was a mass of additional command systems and holo-maps inside the enhanced driver’s chamber. It looked like the tech-priests had been very busy in this vehicle. Drake was there and a bunch of people I did not know and whose purpose I could not guess.

  Macharius put on a headset trimmed with the oak-leaf clusters of a High Commander. He occupied a throne behind where the commander’s normal seat would be. He gestured for the Understudy to take command of the tank, and for me to drive. Anton and Ivan had been assigned to guns. We might have been his lucky talismans but we were going to have to perform our normal duties under his eyes.

  Sliding into the driver’s chair was like coming home. I ran my hands over the control altars reassured by the familiar position of everything. Some things felt different. This vehicle would have a different spirit from the old Indomitable. I knew I was going to take some time to get used to the Lion’s quirks. I hoped there would be enough before we hit the lava moat around the city. I also wondered what had happened to the previous crew. Perhaps this was his reward to us. He had accelerated the process of having us re-assigned to a new Baneblade.

  I listened to Macharius respond to the incoming reports from his commanders. I waited for the instruction to fire up the drive cores. It was not long in coming. The New Boy took up position beside me and waited like an apprentice. This machine was definitely different from the Indomitable. It felt more alert, keener, more proud. It was not so tired. I sensed all of that as it stirred from its slumber. It did not know me but it accepted me as it had accepted a procession of new drivers throughout the long centuries of its life.

  Looking out through the view-scopes I could see thousands of armoured vehicles come to life. Enormous columns began to move out in response to central command’s orders. Huge plumes of dust danced skywards. We rumbled forwards towards the fires on the horizon. I felt as if we were driving to the end of the world.

  If Macharius felt the same, he gave no sign. His voice was calm. His commands were clear. I paid more attention in the first few minutes to the Understudy as he rasped out his orders quietly.

  It felt strange to be listening to him and not the lieutenant. It felt doubly strange to be in this cabin and in the presence of Macharius. But it felt nowhere near as strange as the idea of what we were racing towards under the desert sky of Karsk.

  Drake said, ‘Incoming signal from Fleet Orbital, sealed channel, highest priority, encrypted.’

  ‘Take it,’ Macharius said.

  The inside of the Baneblade seemed suddenly quiet. There was something in his voice that made everybody listen. The features of an admiral appeared in the command globe, relayed down from his flagship somewhere in orbit.

  ‘Lord High Commander,’ the admiral said. ‘I have read your encrypted instructions and I seek clarification. We are to begin bombardment of Hive Irongrad at eighteen hundred Imperial Standard Time if we do not receive a direct instruction from you countermanding.’

  ‘Admiral Jensen. Those are my orders. I believe they are perfectly clear.’

  ‘But, Lord High Commander, your force may still be engaged within the city. And the pyrite refineries. We came here for those.’

  ‘New priorities have arisen, admiral. I have given you your orders. See that you obey them!’

  ‘But–’

  ‘Obey them, admiral. The security of the Imperium may depend on it. I have no time to explain further.’

  The admiral nodded. He did not look happy but he looked like he would do as he was told. Macharius cut the communication channel. I shuddered when I realised what Macharius had done. If we failed to stop the ritual, the whole city would be obliterated. He had given orders that would most likely result in all our deaths, then even more chillingly I realised that if those orders were carried out we would probably already be dead.

  ‘It still mig
ht not be enough to stop the ritual,’ Drake said.

  ‘We have done what we could,’ Macharius said and returned to speaking into the comm-net as if nothing more need be said.

  We swept forwards and I could see the lava flows clearly. Jets of liquid stone spurted upwards, incandescent and ruby red. The earth was cracking. Occasionally, the Baneblade shifted oddly in response to the moving ground. It felt like it might spin out of control if I was not careful. I watched all of the volt gauges and meters carefully. I kept my hands ready on the controls. I did not want to be taken off-guard by anything. We followed the paths predetermined by Macharius’s discovery. It reminded me of our first approach to Irongrad. It was just as tricky and we did not have time to take things slowly and carefully.

  The formation rolled on, feeling its way forwards through the shifting terrain where the sign of the daemon-god was being written on the living flesh of the world. It was slow progress and it became all the slower when the heretics realised what was happening. Not all of them were wrapped up in their ritual summoning. The great batteries on the armoured skin of the city opened fire. Swarms of flyers engaged our air-cover in battle. Within the city itself I had no doubt troops were being marshalled.

  As we got closer to the city, following the channels of the infernal symbol surrounding the hive, the earth tremors became more intense and the air seemed to shimmer and pulse. Whirlpools of multi-coloured light swirled in the air. At first I thought it was some sort of heat haze. Rocks split and tanks were swallowed like men going down in jungle quicksand. That was not the worst of it.