The Empire Omnibus
Page 112
Breathing heavily, Huss looked up. All across the chapel, his vengeful zealots were tearing after the remaining beastmen. There was still fighting in the aisles, but the master of the warband had been defeated.
There was no cry of victory. No smile broke across that severe face. Huss looked up at the altar for a moment, his eyes locked on the sacred stone, and raised the gore-streaked warhammer in salute.
‘By your grace,’ he whispered, still breathing heavily.
And then he was moving again, the warhammer swinging, looking for more prey.
She had never been pretty. Even in life, her face had been heavy and blotched, ravaged by a poor existence in the harsh northern Empire and made worse by weeks of privation.
In death, her face was hideous. The left cheek had been ripped away, exposing the teeth of her jaw. An eye had gone, leaving a deep well, slowly filling with blood. Her belly, a sagging bag of wobbly flesh, hung out from her ripped clothes, studded with puncture wounds.
Huss looked down at her. His expression was gentle.
He didn’t know her name. He rarely knew the names of those who entered his service. Names, in truth, meant very little to him.
Actions, on the other hand, mattered a great deal. The fat woman had died with the corpses of beasts all around her. There was still the echo of a grin on what remained of her features.
She was glorious.
‘Daughter of Sigmar,’ Huss breathed, smoothing the remaining eyelid over the remaining eye.
He knelt by her still-warm body for some time, and his own eyes closed. He would pray long for her.
‘Lord Huss!’
The hard, querulous voice of Margrave von Aachen broke his concentration. Huss gritted his teeth, irritated by the sacrilege. Slowly, letting his movements convey exactly how he felt about the margrave, he rose from the body of the fallen zealot.
The interior of the chapel was stuffed with corpses. Beastmen and humans lay on top of one another, locked in twisted, cold embraces. The stench was already powerful. The pyres would be assembled soon, and flames would come; one set for the righteous, another for the damned. The sound of sobbing came from the courtyard outside – tears of relief, grief and release. The fighting was over, but the rebuilding had yet to begin.
Huss looked at von Aachen. The fat man had lost his robes of silk. He wore a jerkin that didn’t fit and his white hair was disarranged and dirty. He’d been one of those sheltering behind the altar and no doubt others had perished to keep him alive there.
‘Lord priest,’ gasped the margrave, and fell down at Huss’s knees. He was trembling. ‘I am sorry. You were right. We tried to resist them. By the gods, we tried, but there were–’
He looked up, his eyes filled with a pathetic mix of remorse and fear.
‘You were right, priest,’ he said. ‘What can I do? Gold? Titles? I have them. Tell me, what can I do?’
Huss gazed down coldly. The margrave’s knee rested on the body of the fat woman. He hadn’t even noticed.
He contemplated killing him. He contemplated kicking him heavily in the face, again and again, mashing his fat features into a sponge of muscle and blood.
That would make him feel better. It would be suitable sanction for the ruin of the lands he had been given to guard.
It would be indulgent, though. It would be… bestial.
‘You can make amends, margrave,’ said Huss, reaching for the leather belt at his waist. He drew out a long metal shaft. ‘That is what you can do.’
Von Aachen’s eyes widened as he saw the twin-tailed comet device at the end of the shaft. The iron was cool, as black as old ashes.
But he knew what it was. He knew how quickly it would heat up, growing warmer under flame until it was throbbing red like the dying sun.
‘What do you–’
‘All the penitent carry this mark,’ said Huss, his voice soft. ‘Are you penitent, margrave? Do you strive for purity of soul?’
Von Aachen shook his head vigorously. That wasn’t what he’d had in mind. A new terror spread across his pale face, and he began to clamber to his feet.
Huss leaned forward, clamping an iron gauntlet on the margrave’s shoulder and keeping him on his knees. As he did so, the shadow of the brand fell across the man’s forehead, picking out where the scar would be.
‘Build a fire, my children,’ Huss said out loud, knowing it would take only moments for the kindling to catch. ‘We have a new disciple for the march.’
He gave the margrave a savage smile as he spoke, remembering the devotion of those who had liberated Kohlsdorf. From the corner of his eye, he saw zealots rushing to fulfill his order. Von Aachen struggled, but he was pitifully weak.
‘Try not to fear,’ said Huss, turning the brand over and watching the different shadows it cast across the fat man’s face. ‘Pain is fleeting.’
Then his smile truly broke out, a beatific glow that briefly transformed Huss’s melancholy face like sunlight lancing through old stained glass.
‘Salvation, I tell you, is eternal.’
About The Authors
Chris Wraight is the author of the Horus Heresy novel Scars and the Space Wolves novels Battle of the Fang and Blood of Asaheim. He has also written the Space Marine Battles novel Wrath of Iron, along with Schwarzhelm & Helborg: Swords of the Emperor and Luthor Huss in the Warhammer universe. He’s based in a leafy bit of south-west England, and when not struggling to meet deadlines enjoys running through scenic parts of it.
Nick Kyme is the author of the Tome of Fire trilogy featuring the Salamanders. He has also written for the Horus Heresy, Space Marine Battles and Time of Legends series with the novels Vulkan Lives, Damnos and The Great Betrayal. In addition, he has penned a host of short stories and several novellas, including Feat of Iron which was a New York Times bestseller in the Horus Heresy collection The Primarchs. He lives and works in Nottingham.
Darius Hinks’s first novel, Warrior Priest, won the David Gemmell Morningstar award for best newcomer. Since then he has carved a bloody swathe through the Warhammer World in works such as Island of Blood, Sigvald and Razumov’s Tomb. Recently, he has ventured into the Warhammer 40,000 universe with the Space Marine Battles novella Sanctus. He plans to return to the grim darkness of the far future after he has finished telling the tale of the forest god Orion.
A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION
Iron Company copyright © 2009, Games Workshop Ltd.
Grimblades copyright © 2010, Games Workshop Ltd.
Warrior Priest copyright © 2010, Games Workshop Ltd.
‘As Dead as Flesh’ first published in Inferno! magazine,
copyright © 2004, Games Workshop Ltd.
‘Dead Man’s Hand’ first published in Tales of the Old World,
copyright © 2007, Games Workshop Ltd.
‘Sanctity’ first published in Invasion, copyright © 2007, Games Workshop Ltd.
‘The Judgement of Crows’ and ‘The Miracle at Berlau’ first published in Death and Dishonour, copyright © 2010, Games Workshop Ltd.
‘The March of Doom’ first published in Black Library Games Day Anthology 2011/12, copyright © 2011, Games Workshop Ltd.
This edition published in 2014 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd., Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK
Cover illustration by Daren Horley.
Map by Nuala Kinrade
© Games Workshop Limited, 2014. All rights reserved.
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