Manflayer - Josh Reynolds

by Warhammer 40K

  Veilwalker stared at him for a moment. Or so he assumed. It was hard to tell, what with the mirror mask she wore. He liked to think it was consternation. The Harlequins were too used to getting their own way in these matters. A bit of portentous mumbling and one was supposed to simply acquiesce to whatever idiocy they had planned.

  Well, not today. Not ever again.

  He’d decided to kill Veilwalker, once things with Fabius were finished. Oleander would make an effective tool for that purpose. There was a sort of poetic justice there, as well. Things would come full circle.

  ‘We were right to give you the role of Lord of Knives,’ Veilwalker said, after a moment. ‘He too was a vainglorious fool.’

  And then she was gone. Hexachires tensed, suddenly uncertain.

  In her cage of crystal, the daemon was smiling at him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Reinforcements

  ‘The Pilgrim was right. Fulgrim himself pleaded your case,’ Vilius said, as he followed Fabius into the meeting chamber. ‘He graced us with his presence, and told us to come here, saying that we would be rewarded for our service.’ He looked at the others. ‘And so we are here. A gathering of the Third fit to make Eidolon gnaw his vitals in envy.’

  ‘Something most of us would dearly love to see,’ Glorian added. Along with Vilius, Caradistros and Volupus, they had been joined by Gorgus, who seemed not at all out of place among the hulking legionaries.

  The Emperor’s Children had come with warriors and weapons aplenty – four warbands, each the equal of the 12th Millennial. Gorgus had brought his pack – a contingent of Warhound Scout Titans, to accompany his towering Reaver Battle Titan. The god-machines were already being disembarked by the army of slaves that accompanied the princeps wherever he went.

  Ramos too had come, leading a sizeable contingent of Noise Marines. Fabius pulled him aside and leaned close.

  ‘Everything is as it should be?’

  Ramos nodded. ‘It is. The garden is protected by a hundred of my choir. They will sing a song of death for any who seek to trespass. And for myself, I brought enough to make a joyful noise indeed.’ He tapped Fabius’ chest. ‘I can see it in you, lieutenant commander. The Shattersong… you have heard it now. It echoes inside you. Can you feel the change beginning?’

  Fabius extricated himself and stepped back. ‘Later, perhaps, we will speak more of this. But for now, be silent.’

  Ramos gave a harsh, metallic laugh. ‘As you wish, brother.’

  As he went to find a seat, Gorgus caught Fabius in a bear hug, laughing.

  ‘You came,’ Fabius said, clasping the princeps’ forearm in greeting once he’d been released.

  ‘I said I might. And when I heard that a call had gone out, I could not resist.’ Gorgus spied the table. ‘I see you kept the table,’ he said, rubbing his hand over the porous surface. ‘A good kill, this. I was proud of it.’

  ‘A fine gift,’ Fabius said. He looked around the chamber. Saqqara and Arrian were already seated, alongside Savona and Bellephus. Savona watched the newcomers closely. Every so often, Bellephus leaned close to murmur something – likely a name, or some bit of trivia about one of the newcomers. Occasionally, she smiled. Mostly, however, she just watched. Gauging. Calculating.

  Fabius did the same. He wondered if this was the extent of the aid Fulgrim had promised him. He hoped not. He had a feeling that what was coming was a storm unlike any other. One that not even a force such as this could weather.

  He tapped the floor with Torment. ‘As pleased as I am to see you all, we have little time for reminiscences. I expect that the enemy is even now on the way – or soon will be.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’ Glorian asked. ‘We had a hard enough time finding this world and we were shown the way.’ He leaned back in his seat, fanning himself with an ornate fan made from the feathers of some unknown species of avian.

  ‘I have certain… sources of information,’ Fabius said. ‘Suffice to say, they are on the move and drawing closer with every passing hour.’

  ‘Good, I have no patience for long sieges,’ Volupus said, slapping the table with his palm. ‘Give me a quick rush of death any day.’

  ‘I fear you shall have it, and in spades.’

  ‘Then what is your plan, lieutenant commander?’ Vilius said. ‘Enlighten us as to your grand strategy.’

  Fabius smiled. ‘My strategy, brother, is neither grand nor overly complex.’ He paused. ‘I have initiated the Omega Protocol.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Glorian said, after a moment’s silence.

  ‘It means he has called them all home,’ Saqqara said.

  ‘Who?’

  The Word Bearer’s smile was an ugly slash across his scarred features. ‘Every benighted abomination created by his hand. They are all coming here.’

  ‘Not all,’ Fabius said. ‘Only a third, at most. Those who are in positions of authority – or are under the protection of other powers – will remain. Every clan, pack and hive will send a third of their number through the webway gates. They will follow prearranged routes to Belial IV, where they will be evacuated to the Omega Redoubt.’

  ‘Which is what?’ Vilius demanded.

  ‘A fallback position, deep in an isolated spur of the webway. I discovered it during my time in Commorragh. Though they rarely use them, the drukhari have extensive cartographical records of the webway – I… borrowed a number of them during my departure.’ A holo-display shimmered into being over the table. The image of a cavernous spur of the webway took shape. Aeldari ruins were visible, rising in the distance – swooping causeways and onion domes rose over curving structures. The memory of something beautiful.

  ‘The city is mostly intact,’ Fabius continued. ‘For the past century since my return, I have overseen its restoration and readiness for use. There is food and water, as well as the means to make more of both. Extensive facilities for the construction of industrial and military hardware have been prepared. It even has a copy of my laboratorium…’

  ‘And a copy of you as well, I bet,’ Savona said.

  ‘No.’ Fabius was silent for a moment. Then, ‘It is not a place for our kind. No Astartes will cross the threshold of Omega Redoubt. The secret of its location will die with me – this version of me.’

  Glorian narrowed his eyes. ‘So what does this have to do with us, then?’

  ‘It will take time to complete the evacuation.’

  Glorian laughed. Volupus and the others looked at him in confusion. He looked around. ‘Don’t you see? He called us here to die. We’re supposed to hold the line while his precious freaks escape to a hidden paradise!’

  Silence followed this outburst. Volupus and the others turned to Fabius.

  ‘Is this true, lieutenant commander?’ Vilius purred.

  Fabius smiled. ‘Obviously.’

  Another long moment of silence. Then, Ramos chuckled. The sound caused the air to vibrate painfully. Caradistros and Volupus joined in, until the whole room reverberated with the sounds of their mirth. Savona looked around, a puzzled expression on her face.

  Glorian leaned towards her, a too-wide smile on his cracked marble features. ‘You have much to learn, Lady Savona. I would be happy to tutor you, if you wished…’

  Savona bared her teeth. ‘You should know that I’m wearing the armour of the last man who offered to tutor me.’

  Glorian jerked back, eyes narrowed.

  Vilius laughed harshly and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘She has bite, this one. I like her.’

  ‘You would,’ Glorian said.

  Vilius gave Savona a look at his own splintered, iron teeth. ‘Of course, if she ever threatened me like that, I would twist her pretty head off and keep it as a souvenir.’

  ‘If you are quite finished,’ Fabius said.

  ‘Indeed,’ Gorgus said. He pounded a scarred fist a
gainst the table. ‘We must discuss strategy. I demand the spearhead.’ He glowered challengingly at the gathered Chaos Space Marines. One or two looked as if they might argue with him. The others seemed only too happy to give him his way. Gorgus was infamous for his temper, even among renegade legionaries.

  ‘There will be no spearhead,’ Fabius said. ‘This will be a defensive campaign. The enemy is close. They have tracked us here by unknown means – though I have my suspicions – and I have no doubt that they will attack en masse shortly.’ He gestured and a three-dimensional map of the city appeared atop the table. ‘Seventeen of the estimated twenty-three webway nodes within the city boundaries have already been destroyed.’

  ‘Too bad the drukhari carry their own,’ Savona said.

  ‘Yes.’ Fabius smiled. ‘Unfortunately for them, this is a crone world. Which means they cannot risk using their portals – too much interference, too much risk something unpleasant will follow them home. Thus, they must use one of the nodes located on this world. Which is why I intend to leave the remaining six unsealed.’

  ‘An auspicious number,’ Saqqara said.

  Fabius ignored him. ‘As we speak, my servants are booby-trapping each of the remaining nodes. Not enough to stop our foes, but enough to bloody them.’

  ‘Why let them in at all?’ Volupus asked.

  ‘Because I am owed recompense,’ Fabius said flatly. He swept his gaze across the gathered warlords. ‘Honour has never meant anything to me. But vengeance… vengeance has always been a favoured vice of mine. They have harmed me. Insulted me. Hounded and harried me. And I will pay them back tenfold.’

  ‘Well said!’ Gorgus growled, slapping the table with his palm.

  ‘Indeed. Perhaps there is something other than ichor in your veins after all,’ Vilius said. ‘I am almost looking forward to this.’

  ‘I still haven’t heard what this grand plan of yours is,’ Savona said.

  ‘And as I told you, there is no grand plan. There are six possible routes of entry. Five minor gates, and one central gate beneath this very palace. Each gate will be held for as long as possible.’ Fabius paused. ‘I do not expect you to die for me, brothers.’ He used the word deliberately, and Ramos nodded approvingly. ‘I expect you to pay your debts – nothing more.’

  ‘Six gates,’ Ramos said. He stood, and studied each of the others in turn. ‘That is what Slaanesh asks of you. Six gates.’

  ‘Six gates,’ Volupus said. He nodded. ‘Easy enough.’ He looked around. Vilius and the others murmured in agreement.

  ‘That’s it? That’s your plan?’ Savona shook her head. ‘A last stand?’

  Fabius looked at her. ‘And what would you suggest?’

  ‘Something else. Anything else!’

  ‘There is nothing. The path to Omega Redoubt must be defended until the evacuation is completed.’

  ‘I have heard this story before,’ Bellephus said. ‘It is an old story, but a good one.’

  Fabius turned. ‘What?’

  ‘A new humanity calls for aid,’ Bellephus said. ‘An army of xenos ­horrors creep forth from the nighted caverns of the webway. And so the warriors of the Third gather one last time. One final stand against the blood-dimmed tide.’ He looked around the table. ‘One final spark of ancient glory, before the long night consumes us all. Is that not what we all desire, in our hearts? The chance to show our worth to the Phoenician, even as we did so long ago?’ He pushed himself to his feet and slammed his fist into his chest. ‘The chance to be the heroes we were, before Horus dragged us into the dust.’

  The others were nodding. Even Vilius and Glorian. Their gazes shone with glory-lust and they leaned forward eagerly. Ready to play the hero, one last time.

  ‘Yes,’ Fabius said. ‘Let us make our fathers proud of us.’

  Quin stood atop the broken tower, overlooking the corpse of the city. In the distance, giants trudged through clouds of dust. God-machines, by the look of them, marked with barbarous sigils, their heraldry unrecognisable.

  Then, there was much he didn’t recognise, these days. He’d spent so long in his isolation that the Eye had changed irrevocably. He’d spent the return trip to Belial IV studying every bit of data Fabius had accumulated about the current state of affairs – mostly about the Third. After Fulgrim had abandoned them, the Legion had splintered. He’d hoped to prevent it – to repair the damage before it became irrevocable.

  A fool’s quest. He’d known it at the time. But even so, one of them had to try. None of the others had seemed so inclined. Eidolon. Julius. Lucius. Even Fabius. And so he’d done what no other son of the Legion had been able to accomplish. No Chemosian-born gutter-rat, certainly. Only a true Child of the Emperor was worthy. Or so he’d thought.

  But he’d failed. The Legion had died, and he’d gone into exile. Not out of fear, or shame, but out of duty. Too many of his brothers had sought him out, hoping he could lead them to Fulgrim. Too many of them had taken offence to his refusal. His grip on his axe tightened as he remembered the trail of dead brothers he’d left in his wake. Too many to count. Too many to forget.

  ‘What are you doing up here?’

  ‘Waiting for someone.’ He turned. Savona stood behind him. The woman interested him in the way a new species of predator did. She was vicious and unpredictable – clearly blessed by the Dark Prince, in ways that implied she’d sought out his patronage. She was of the new breed and he wondered what her end would be.

  ‘Anyone in particular?’

  ‘Yes. But she does not appear to be coming.’ He smiled ruefully. Melusine had been oddly absent since they’d left Fulgrim’s world. Perhaps she’d served her purpose, and the Dark Prince had called her home. Or maybe she thought he’d served his. ‘Then, daemons are notoriously unpredictable.’

  ‘You sound like Saqqara.’

  He nodded. ‘Fabius’ pet diabolist. He told me a little of him. Lorgar’s sons were never the brightest stars in the heavens, but they were always among the most stubborn.’ He turned back to the distant dust cloud. ‘Reinforcements.’

  ‘Do you know any of them?’

  ‘Some. Vilius was a fine commander, once. He’s become lost to his own hedonism since. And Caradistros was always a fool. From Chemos, both of them.’ Quin eyed her. ‘Then, you’re no Terran, either.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I thought not. There aren’t many of us left.’

  ‘Last I checked, there was a whole planet full of them.’

  Quin laughed.

  ‘You weren’t at the meeting,’ she said. ‘Fabius laid out his grand stra­tegy. They were all very appreciative.’

  ‘I saw no reason to be there. My part in this is done. I have no intention of bearing witness to his folly.’ He shifted his axe to the crook of his arm and peered at her. ‘You intrigue me.’

  ‘I’m flattered.’ She joined him at the edge of the tower. ‘Fabius said you were planning on leaving. A shame.’

  ‘As I said, there is no reason for me to stay.’

  ‘You could join me,’ Savona said. Quin looked at her.

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  ‘Why would you not?’ she said. She swept her maul out and knocked the head off a nearby statue. ‘Unless you’re planning to go back to your cabin and hide for another few centuries.’

  His gaze sharpened. ‘And what makes you think I was hiding?’ She was trying to bait him, and he was tempted to let her. It had been centuries since he’d fought something other than Neverborn and monsters.

  She turned away, arms flung out. ‘What else would you call it? You saw the face of your god and went running off to the most boring planet you could find.’ She turned back and pointed her maul at him. ‘You’re worse than Saqqara.’

  He swept his axe up and knocked her maul aside. ‘And you are a preening mortal, wearing stolen glory. Give me one good reason I sh
ouldn’t shuck you out of that armour of yours and gift it to someone more worthy.’

  Savona stepped back and raised her maul. ‘Try me and see.’

  Quin smiled and obliged her. His axe hummed in his hands as they traded blows. She was quick, as those blessed by the Dark Prince often were. Quin had a touch of speed as well, enabling him to move as easily as she in his heavier armour. Her maul cracked against his shoulder-plate, and she cursed as he nearly took her arm off in return.

  ‘You are skilled,’ he said. ‘But undisciplined. A warrior rather than a soldier.’

  ‘You make that sound like a bad thing.’

  ‘Warriors do not win wars. Soldiers do.’ He drove her back against a wall. The stonework creaked and nearly gave way beneath her. She lunged forward and he shoved her back again. ‘And whether you like it or not, this is a war you’ve dealt yourself into.’

  ‘Like you dealt yourself out,’ she said, between bared fangs. She leaned forward. ‘I could use soldiers like you to help me.’

  Quin was about to reply when he heard the soft click of a bolt pistol being readied. He turned. Bellephus stood off to the side, his weapon levelled.

  ‘Hello, Narvo.’

  ‘Bellephus.’

  ‘Release my captain, please.’

  Quin considered the request. His helmet was resting on a nearby stone. He’d been shot in the head before, but it was rarely a pleasant experience. He stepped back and lowered his axe. Bellephus looked at Savona. She frowned.

  ‘I had it under control.’

  ‘Yes.’ Bellephus glanced at Quin. ‘You should remember to wear your helmet.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  Quin watched them go. He smiled.

  ‘Perhaps I will stay a while,’ he murmured.

  The drukhari spasmed as Glaive drove the knife up into its spine, severing it. The creature gurgled as he dragged its dead weight into the shadows of the webway. He glanced back at his packmates. ‘Whose turn is it?’

  Spar stepped forward. ‘Mine.’ She licked her lips. ‘I’ve never eaten the brain of an aeldari. Does it taste much different?’