The Eye of Ezekiel

by C Z Dunn

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Allix said, sitting down next to Ladbon. ‘Marita is smart and resourceful. She wouldn’t do anything to put her or the child in danger.’

  ‘Smart and resourceful count for nothing when the bombs start falling. One minute you’re taking cover in a building, the next you’re buried under it,’ Ladbon replied. ‘I was lucky. Marita might not be.’

  ‘Luck?’ Allix said, grinning. ‘Is that what you call your sixth sense then?’

  Ladbon looked nervously towards the Techmarine, who was crammed in tightly at the rear of the troop compartment, Valkyries designed for ferrying Imperial Guardsmen into battle rather than Space Marines. Serpicus’ attention was focused on monitoring vox-traffic.

  ‘Keep it down!’ Ladbon hissed. ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘I’ve suspected it for a while. We all have.’ The squad turned to look at their captain, smirks on their faces. ‘It’s only since we’ve been here on Honoria that I’ve known for sure.’

  ‘And you didn’t say anything?’

  ‘What’s to say? You’ve been the only thing keeping us alive, and none of us are dumb enough or disloyal enough to turn you into the commissars.’ Allix leaned in closer. ‘What I want to know is how you’ve managed to keep it a secret for so long? I’ve been screened twice and Dmitri over there is checked over every couple of months on account of his “condition”.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ladbon said, shrugging. ‘I’ve been screened too but nothing has ever been flagged. Maybe it’s because it’s not permanent.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Allix said.

  ‘My “gift”, I can’t turn it on at will,’ Ladbon replied. ‘I can’t just close my eyes and see what’s about to happen. It just hits me when I least expect it. The Dark Angels Librarian, he knew though.’

  Allix’s next question went unasked as Serpicus addressed them from the rear of the Valkyrie.

  ‘The walls of Aurelianum have been breached and the defences are down. It’s only a matter of time before the orks storm the battlements. The Sularian Gate has taken the worst of it so we are going to reinforce the Imperial and Mechanicus forces there.’ There was no emotion in the Techmarine’s voice; everything was delivered as a matter of fact. ‘The orks have air superiority now so the Valkyrie will get us as close to the ground as it can without landing. Gather your kit and be ready to disembark as soon as I give the order.’

  Straining every sinew, every bundle of muscle in his transhuman body, Balthasar lifted the last of the wreckage from his armoured form, sending a shower of masonry and metal raining down over the battlements. The vox in his shattered helmet crackled and fizzed, unable to pick up a signal, so Balthasar removed the ruined headgear and tossed it aside, revealing his blood-streaked face. He grimaced as he stood, his fractured femur already repairing itself but nonetheless painful, and he struggled to breathe, one of his lungs having collapsed under the impact of the exploding turret.

  Further along the battlements, the combined forces of the Astra Militarum and Mechanicus mounted a spirited defence but without the turrets to protect them from aerial attack, the ork flyers were striking with impunity. He drew his bolt pistol and quickly checked it was still functioning before clambering over the debris to resume command of the Imperial forces.

  ‘They’re gone… All of them… gone,’ Diezen said hoarsely upon seeing Balthasar. The arch magos’ face was streaked with oily tears.

  ‘What do you mean they’re gone? Who’s gone?’ Balthasar asked, looking around to assess the fighting strength of the surviving Guardsmen.

  ‘Not who, what. The turrets, you fool. They’ve all been destroyed, their secrets lost forever.’

  Balthasar looked around, taking in the entire length of the fortress walls. Of the eighteen gates, only three had turrets still in place and all of those were ablaze. Out in the trenches, the ork transports ground ever closer, the wall of corpses growing ever higher. The greenskin army would be on the walls within minutes.

  Behind him, the turrets of the inner fortress continued to fire, their mighty lascannons keeping the skies over the capital free of ork aircraft.

  ‘Sound the retreat,’ Balthasar called. ‘All forces fall back to the inner citadel.’

  ‘But the greenskins will overrun the walls,’ Diezen spat. ‘We must stand and fight.’

  ‘They’ll overrun the walls whether we defend them or not. Those transports won’t be able to get inside the city until the orks have destroyed the outer walls, and that’s going to take them some time. We fall back, we regroup and plan our counter-attack.’

  ‘You’re making your own tomb,’ Diezen said, shaking his head. A stream of Vostroyans and Mordians were already filing down the stone staircase towards the relative safety of the city.

  ‘You and your skitarii are more than welcome to stay here and take on the orks alone.’ Balthasar swept his arm out theatrically, gesturing to the advancing transports and the horde of chanting xenos following in their wake. Both the Dark Angel and the arch magos spotted it at the same time, the flashes of psychic energy and the bursts of muzzle flare coming from on top of one of the lead vehicles.

  ‘It would seem that at least one of your brothers is prepared to take on the ork army by himself,’ Diezen said, smugly. ‘Care to greet him with us, Dark Angel?’

  Balthasar grinned wryly, raising his bolt pistol. ‘Let’s clear the Librarian a path,’ he said, opening fire.

  The Valkyrie hovered a couple of metres from the ground, the heat from its engines melting the layer of snow that coated the courtyard floor. Serpicus was the first one out, the stone underfoot cracking beneath his power-armoured bulk as he landed in a crouch. He instantly sprang to his feet and was sprinting towards the stairs that led up to the battlements before any of Ladbon’s squad had exited. The first of the retreating forces from above had reached the foot of the steps, forcing the Techmarine to push brusquely through the tide of Guardsmen. By the time the Vostroyans were clear of the transport, the Dark Angel had already disappeared from view.

  Ladbon stopped one of the Mordians who were filing past, his sunken eyes seeming to stare right through the captain. ‘What’s happening? Where are you going?’ Ladbon asked.

  ‘We’re letting the orks have the walls,’ the Mordian replied in a thick accent. ‘All Imperial forces are to retreat back to the inner citadel.’ He continued on his way, eyes still locked on some indeterminate point in the middle distance.

  ‘You heard him,’ Ladbon said, shouldering his lasrifle. ‘I’ll meet you back there once I’ve got Marita.’

  Not a single one of his squad moved.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me? That was an order,’ Ladbon said.

  ‘Then I’ll guess you’ll have to have me court-martialled because I’m disobeying it,’ Allix said.

  ‘You’ll have to court martial all of us,’ Kas added.

  Ladbon fixed them both with his augmetic eye, the bulky unit whirring loudly as it rotated into focus.

  ‘I appreciate the gesture but those greenskins could be over the walls and into the city at any moment. I’m not going to let you risk your lives for me again. You’ve all already done so much for me and Marita.’

  ‘You’ve saved each of our lives ten times over,’ said Grigori. ‘My idiot younger brother here, twenty times.’

  Gaspar made an obscene gesture towards his twin.

  ‘If we all live to be a hundred we could never do enough to repay you, captain,’ added Dmitri. ‘This is the least we can do for you. For the both of you.’

  Mute tapped Dmitri on the shoulder and held up three fingers to the albino.

  ‘Mute is right,’ Dmitri laughed. ‘For all three of you.’

  Ladbon smiled. ‘Thank you. All of you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ said Allix. ‘You’re the precog who can sense when danger is lurking around
the corner. Do you think I’m letting you out of my sight?’

  ‘Always working the angles, aren’t you, trooper?’

  ‘Hey, if we get out of this alive I expect you to name that kid after me,’ Allix said, heading off in the opposite direction to the inner citadel, followed by the rest of the squad.

  Ezekiel’s bolt pistol finally ran dry, its final act to blow open the brainpan of a huge brute that had made it to the pinnacle of the corpse wave. Instantly, two smaller specimens were on top of it, stripping the fresh body clean of ammunition and wargear. A warp lance to each of their skulls quickly put paid to them.

  The Librarian wiped his top lip, his gauntleted fingers coming away coated in blood. He was running close to the edge, his psychic exertions exacting a physical toll. His attacks were already growing weaker and the more he pushed his gifts, the more they would diminish. Already he could sense the entities that lingered on the fringes of reality circling, waiting for the walls of the aether to part so that they might be birthed into the material universe.

  Yet more greenskins ascended the mountain of cadavers, and so Ezekiel refocused, drawing deep into his reserves. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. To his surprise, when he opened his eyes again the orks were already dead. On the battlements, rapidly looming up ahead, he could make out a green-armoured figure flanked by a cadre of skitarii.

  Is your plan to defend the walls alone, Brother Balthasar?+ Ezekiel sent.

  My plan was to ensure you made it back here safely, Brother Librarian. Besides, I have the arch magos and his skitarii for company, and Master Serpicus has just rejoined me. What is your plan?

  Truthfully, I do not have one. My intention was to take out as many greenskins as possible before they reached the walls and then assist the defenders. Where are the Astra Militarum forces?+

  I’ve ordered them into the inner citadel. Though the orks are not here yet, the walls are as good as fallen.

  Sound tactics, first sergeant. Better we regroup and live to fight another day than throw away lives needlessly in a last stand that nobody would survive to commemorate.+

  Are you close enough to teleport onto the battlements? Balthasar sent.

  Ordinarily, yes, but my powers are at their very limits. I could maybe travel twenty, thirty metres at best.+

  If we give you covering fire, could you do it in stages?

  Possibly. Matters of the warp are always governed by a high degree of randomness.+

  Then you’ll have to take that risk. If we wait until you get close enough to do it in one jump then the orks will practically be on top of us.

  Acknowledged. Preparing to make the first jump.+ Ezekiel cut the link.

  Drawing his force sword, he blinked out of existence.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When they could not find Marita in their billet, Ladbon and his squad headed straight for the infirmary in the hope that she would be aiding with evacuating the wounded, but they were met with the same result.

  ‘Do you think she’s already gone to the inner citadel?’ asked Grigori as they headed back onto the streets. Most of the Astra Militarum personnel and the capital’s population had already retreated to safety, leaving the odd straggler or walking wounded slowly making their way towards the inner gates.

  ‘It’s possible, but I don’t want to take that chance. Once we’re in the inner citadel we’re in. If Marita is still out here then I won’t be able to rescue her,’ Ladbon replied.

  ‘You there! Why aren’t you with the rest of your regiment?’

  The Vostroyans turned to find a bolt pistol trained upon them, held tight in the grip of a commissar’s fist. The man bore fresh wounds on his face and his trench coat was caked in dried blood.

  ‘We… erm… that is…’ Ladbon found himself lost for words. He had been so intent on finding Marita that he had almost forgotten that technically his – and his squad’s – actions were desertion. On the edge of his vision he could see Allix and Dmitri slowly reaching for their weapons.

  ‘Everything is in order, commissar,’ said a Vostroyan-accented voice from behind them. Ladbon turned to find out who it belonged to, and discovered it was the last person he expected to see.

  Kowalski.

  ‘These men are out here under my orders. I’ve sent them to retrieve one of their comrades from the infirmary in the next sector over,’ he continued.

  The commissar lowered his weapon and holstered it. ‘Well, they had better make it quick. The orks are almost at the gates.’ He gave a salute, which Ladbon and Kowalski instantly returned. After some hesitation, the rest of the Vostroyans did likewise. Satisfied, the commissar went on his way.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ladbon said, meaning it.

  ‘I didn’t do it for you, secondborn. I did it to pay my debt to Trooper Ketnemu there. Your wench is assisting in the infirmary over in sector fourteen, or at least she was when I just left there.’ Ladbon noticed that his counterpart was wearing a bandage on his left hand covering up the stumps of two missing fingers. ‘If you hurry, you might get to her before the orks do.’

  Kowalski made to leave in the same direction the commissar had headed, but stopped and turned to Allix. ‘If you ever lay another hand on me, trooper, I will kill you. Understood?’

  ‘I thought you liked it when I play rough, Kowalski,’ Allix said, blowing the captain a kiss. Kowalski walked away shaking his head.

  Ladbon and the rest of his squad headed off in the direction of sector fourteen.

  ‘I didn’t foresee that…’ he muttered under his breath.

  Ezekiel blinked back into reality, surrounded by greenskins. Unprepared for a stranger suddenly appearing in their midst, none of them were able to act before the Librarian’s force sword parted their heads from their bodies. Those further away but still posing a threat soon succumbed to covering fire from the two Dark Angels and the skitarii atop the fortress walls. Glancing back over his shoulder, Ezekiel realised that his first jump had been almost thirty metres. If his luck and psychic stamina held out, he would only need to make three more to reach the wall.

  In a flash, he disappeared again, reappearing almost twenty metres further ahead and higher up the mound of bodies. The front of the corpse wave had hit the fortress wall and, unable to make any further forward progress, the amalgamation of cadavers and body parts was being compressed upwards, rising ever closer to the battlements. Down below, the noise from the xenos throng grew louder still, their bloodlust reaching a frenzy, the butchery so long denied them by the defenders of Honoria only moments away.

  Two more orks fell to his blade before he jumped once more, a killing blow from a huge axe wielded by a third greenskin passing harmlessly through thin air as its intended victim rematerialised fifteen metres up ahead. Ezekiel could taste blood in his mouth, his head pounding from the strain, but he still had the presence of mind to block an incoming blow from an ork blade, reversing the swipe and knocking the huge knife from its wielder’s grasp with the upstroke and bifurcating the brute with the return. Oblivious to the blue-armoured psyker behind them, scores of greenskins stood between Ezekiel and the battlements, eager to be the first to spill the blood of those within the city. Withering fire from the wall did little to thin their ranks, their hunger for violence sustaining them even when their wounds should by rights have killed them.

  It was now or never. Though it was still fully twenty metres to the top of the wall, if he waited any longer then it wouldn’t leave Balthasar, Serpicus or Diezen and his skitarii enough time to get off the wall before the green tide engulfed them. Ezekiel closed his eyes, found focus and made the final jump.

  In the moment between, that tiny sliver of time when he was simultaneously at one with the warp and anathema to it, the daemon appeared to him, laughing.

  When the warp spat him back out, he was hanging in mid-air, one metre short of the battlements.


  ‘Marita!’

  The pregnant woman turned away from the comatose Mordian she was tending to and stood up to meet Ladbon’s embrace.

  ‘Come on. We have to get out of here,’ Ladbon said, grabbing her hand. Marita stood firm.

  ‘We can’t just leave these men here. We have to get them to safety,’ Marita scowled.

  Ladbon looked around at the half a dozen occupied gurneys, each of them filled by an unconscious Guardsman. A Vostroyan medic, his bushy moustache slick with sweat, was examining one of the patients, assisted by an Honorian orderly. The infirmary was eerily quiet, like a morgue, the low crackle from a portable vox-unit the only sound other than the medic’s footsteps as he went from patient to patient, administering injections.

  ‘If they cannot move themselves then they are dead already,’ Allix said coldly, looking over at the medic. He simply shook his head and continued about his business.

  ‘We can’t leave them. I can’t leave them, Ladbon,’ said Marita defiantly. It was this intense compassion that had helped draw Ladbon to Marita in the first place. Forcing her to abandon the wounded while they still had a chance of survival, no matter how slim, was not going to be easy.

  The vox fizzed to life, making his decision for him.

  ‘The orks have breached the walls!’ called out a panicked Mordian struggling to make herself heard over the roar of an onrushing greenskin army. ‘The orks have–’ The vox died, presumably the owner of the voice too.

  ‘That’s it. We are leaving,’ Ladbon said, authoritatively.

  Marita looked to the medic.

  ‘He’s right. All we can do now is save ourselves.’ He plunged a syringe into one of the unconscious Guardsmen’s necks, emptying clear liquid into a vein. ‘Don’t worry. These men are beyond the reach of the orks now,’ he added solemnly.