Born of Flame
Page 45
Loken hid his misgivings and took a mouthful of the liquid. He suppressed a splutter. The burning was less pronounced this time. His adapted stomach clenched against the mjod, but he held it in, and after a moment a pleasant warmth spread through his belly.
‘Good?’ said Russ. His smile was all pointed teeth. They did not fit with the primarch’s clean-shaven face. It was rarely commented on, but Russ was a handsome being, though his features tended to the blunt and he had many scars. All the primarchs were made to be perfect, but some of them, Fulgrim and Sanguinius in particular, were more beautiful than others to begin with. Leman Russ was handsome in his way, if one looked past his furs and his manner. Loken wondered how many people ever did.
‘Well then, you know why you are here,’ said Russ. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
‘You wish to hear of our mission.’
‘I do. All of it. Start at the beginning.’
‘From the beginning?’
‘That’s what I said, isn’t it? See, Bjorn,’ said Russ to a saturnine, dark-haired warrior stood at the left of his throne. ‘I told you this one was slow.’
‘Forgive me, my lord, have you not had Bror and the others tell you of what occurred?’ asked Loken.
Russ rolled his head until his neck cracked. ‘Ach, he has, he has! They have! I made them all start at the beginning, and I want to hear your version of events the same way. It’s important. From hearing all accounts, the skjalds,’ he pointed out a mixed group of standard humans and legionaries stood at the side of the room, ‘will fashion a telling of events that will be sung into the sagas of the Legion. An Adeptus Astartes legionary might remember better than a human, but he is still fallible. In collective remembrance, a truer account can be found.’ Russ kicked his feet out and sprawled further into his throne. ‘So go on, speak. Tell me of your adventure.’
So Loken spoke. He told of how he and Malcador’s Knights Errant had infiltrated Horus’ flagship, the Vengeful Spirit, at the height of the Battle of Molech. With a heavy heart he relayed the tally of the dead, how one by one noble heroes had been snatched from life, until finally they had been captured, and taken before Horus himself.
‘Five of eleven of us died, my lord,’ he said. ‘Three of the others were mortally wounded. If it had not been for Banu Rassuah’s actions, we would all have died, or worse.’ He looked down, unable to hold the eye of the primarch. ‘We were caught before we could map the Vengeful Spirit fully. I expressed my regret to Bror that we failed the task you set us.’
‘We did not fail,’ said Bror. ‘I have said this to you. A lot.’
‘And I have said a hundred times, my brother, that I cannot agree.’ Loken held up his hands apologetically. His pauldrons shifted back on their mountings with a soft hiss. Only in the silence of Russ’ hall, where the assembled lords of the Space Wolves listened so attentively, could such a quiet little sound be heard. ‘I am sorry, but it is true. How can we call what we did a success?’
Russ breathed heavily, deep in thought. ‘Success, no success. Bah. Tell me more of my brother. Tell me how powerful he seemed.’
Loken stumbled over his words. He could not quite believe what had become of the Warmaster, and his tongue rebelled when he tried to put it into words. ‘He has changed, my lord. Completely. The primarch Horus Lupercal has become an abomination. Something has happened to him. I… I have never been in the presence of such power.’ He paused after that statement, fearing it might appear that he held some loyalty for the Warmaster. Nothing could be further from the truth.
‘Do you believe my brother has been overthrown by some malign intelligence?’ asked Russ. ‘I have heard reports that he has been corrupted, and that his thoughts are not his own.’
Was there hope in Russ’ voice? That Horus the Great, the Emperor’s finest son, was not to blame for what was happening?
Malcador had confided in Loken two things of import about the Wolf King. The first was that his barbarian king persona could be raised and lowered as easily as a visor; he was not the simple warrior lord he portrayed. The second was that he regretted what had happened on Prospero, and was stung at how he had been manipulated into it. It would be easier for him to accept that it was not his brother that had used him, but some other, eldritch thing. Russ might hope, Malcador said, that Horus could be saved, not only for Russ’ love for his brother, but for his own vindication.
Maybe it was both, maybe it was neither. Loken tried to read the true intentions of the Wolf King, employing tricks of observation Malcador’s agents had taught him, but he could not. He saw only a savage’s face, with a hierophant’s inscrutable gaze.
Loken quelled his frustration. He was destined to always be a blind weapon. It was not his place to judge a primarch.
‘Regrettably, no,’ said Loken, answering Russ’ question. ‘Whatever he has become, the Warmaster’s mind still rules his body. Lupercal’s ambition drives him on. When he spoke with me, it was Horus who tried to sway me to his side again and not some Neverborn abomination, though the Vengeful Spirit hosts such things now. It was Horus who killed the Half-Heard, as if he were nothing.’ He looked into Russ’ piercing blue eyes, and was struck again by the intelligence he saw there. ‘We have seen so many things we thought could not be true. Daemons, creatures of the warp infesting human flesh, gods perhaps, toying with the lives of men. But Horus lives. He was corrupted upon Davin by that blade, but I knew him when I saw him again. He could not have become this way were it not for his failings. Pride. Hubris. I thought primarchs beyond reproach, but I have learned that none of you are perfect. If Horus is a cat’s paw, he is more a willing one than not.’
Russ shifted uneasily at Loken’s words, like a wolf sensing something dangerous on the breeze. He could not deny the truths the Luna Wolf spoke, but even after all this, thought Loken, he still believes in the Emperor’s infallible sons.
The Wolf King burst out laughing. ‘Again you surprise me. You are a bold one, Garviel Loken, in being so honest. Now, the most important thing you must tell me.’ Russ leaned forwards in his throne, his eyes narrowed. ‘Can I kill him? Can I kill the Warmaster?’ Before Loken could answer, Russ went on. ‘In the old days, in the Crusade, I thought I could beat most of my brothers. Maybe not Sanguinius. In him there is a fine blend of skill and fury. He is a baresark in angel’s garb. Or the Night Haunter, for he has the heedless power of the insane. But the others… Angron? He’s too angry. Fulgrim?’ He shrugged. ‘Too proud. Perturabo and Dorn are too stolid. Guilliman is too stern to enjoy battle and so I would beat him too. Lorgar I could spit on and that would drop him into the dirt, he’s so weak from all that kneeling. Alpharius is a wretched serpent. And we all know what happened to the great sorcerer of Prospero. The rest I could defeat as easily as this.’ He snapped his fingers.
‘Horus though,’ he grimaced. ‘Put to it, one on one, I could have beaten him. It would have been hard, and close fought, and had fortune favoured him over me, he would have triumphed. But the feat was within my grasp. So tell me, Garviel Loken, is it now? Can I still kill him?’
Loken’s face tightened. Russ was proud, they said. He looked from the corners of his eyes at the wolf lords around him. Proud barbarians with an over-developed sense of honour were easy to insult. But they also said Russ was no fool.
Loken made his choice. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You cannot beat him. Not like he is now. I do not think anyone can, save perhaps the Emperor Himself.’
The Wolf King’s lips curved in thought and his eyes unfocused. He stroked idly at the pelt affixed to his shoulder. The bluff expression fell away, and for a moment Loken was witness to the man the Wolf King hid.
An instant later, the thoughtful man was gone, replaced by the smiling savage.
‘I thank you, Garviel Loken, for your honest counsel, but I assure you I will beat the Warmaster. I am going to have to.’
The audience was over. Russ stood. His wolves yawned, one after the other, the second wider than the first as they compete
d to see who could gape furthest.
‘Tell Malcador I shall be borrowing Bror here for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll bring him back, so long as his thread remains uncut,’ said Russ.
‘Yes, my lord. I shall report to the regent, then return. When do we leave?’
Russ frowned. ‘When do we leave? We do not leave, Garviel Loken.’ Russ pointed a grubby finger at him. ‘You are staying here.’
‘My lord, I beg of you,’ said Loken. He had a consuming desire to confront his father again. He wished to face him one more time, with no doubt in his heart. ‘Let me come. I have sworn an oath to defy the Warmaster to my dying breath. I want to be a part of this.’
Leman of the Russ shook his head. His copper-blond topknot swayed in the ship’s foul air.
‘Not you, you remain!’ he said sternly. Then he added softly, ‘I say to you from one wolf to another, this is not your fight. It is unwise to intrude into the feuds of brothers, as we say on Fenris. They are the bloodiest of all.’
Once more Russ’ smile dropped. ‘Do not be sad. You will have plentiful opportunity to face your gene-father,’ he said. ‘If you are right, and I cannot beat him, he will kill me then he will be coming here. Fight him then.’
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A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION
Promethean Sun first published in 2011.
Scorched Earth first published in 2013.
‘Artefacts’ first published in Sedition’s Gate in 2011.
‘Immortal Duty’ first published in Meduson in 2015.
Sons of the Forge first published in 2016.
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Cover illustration by Neil Roberts
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Table of Contents
Cover
Backlist
Title Page
The Horus Heresy
PROMETHEAN SUN
Dramatis Personae
SCORCHED EARTH
Dramatis Personae
ARTEFACTS
IMMORTAL DUTY
SONS OF THE FORGE
Dramatis Personae
The Vow
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
The Broken Chalice
Afterword
About the Author
An Extract from ‘Wolfsbane’
A Black Library Publication
eBook license
Cover
Backlist
Title Page
The Horus Heresy
PROMETHEAN SUN
Dramatis Personae
SCORCHED EARTH
Dramatis Personae
ARTEFACTS
IMMORTAL DUTY
SONS OF THE FORGE
Dramatis Personae
The Vow
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
The Broken Chalice
Afterword
About the Author
An Extract from ‘Wolfsbane’
A Black Library Publication
eBook license