Almost immediately Nuadhu saw the pattern to which Eldrad had directed him. The scarab swarm was made of several interposed components, each following interlaced flight plans that spiralled out from three points within the mass of the necrontyr warriors on the ground below. With his change of perspective, Nuadhu could see the source of the flying constructs. A trio of heavy arachnid-like mechanical drones drifted between the warrior squads, their domed carapaces underlit with fluctuating emerald energy. From this ethereal light emerged more of the smaller constructs, materialised from matter converters, swooping up to reinforce the scarab flights. And it was from this triumvirate of mindless constructs that the scarabs were directed, their complex movements now revealed to be centred around the three spyders.
‘With me, Wild Riders of Saim-Hann!’ Elation spurred Nuadhu as he directed B’sainnad with the tip of his spear and Alean plunged into the swirling morass of flying constructs. ‘Slay the master-constructs and the scarab slaves will falter. Strike swift, clear a path and we shall be rid of these vexatious swarms.’
Minds amplified and linked by the spirit stones of their steeds, the Wild Riders converged on Nuadhu, flying perilously close to each other but never at risk of collision. Shuriken catapults and cannons spat volleys of scarab-slashing discs while the riders rolled and spiralled around their leader, lighting the route into the heart of the necrontyr with a track of detonating scarabs. The heavier weapons of the Vypers scoured tears through the implacable ranks of the necrontyr, who marched onwards heedless of the craft flashing above them, intent upon the grav-vehicles cutting their way towards the main pyramid.
‘Caelledhin, go hence,’ directed Nuadhu, indicating the furthest tomb spyder with his lance. He whipped the weapon to the animating construct on the right. ‘Maethaeregr, take the foe here. I shall eliminate the other. Guard our backs, Halethalas!’
The squadrons of Wild Riders peeled into four, three arrowing towards the scarab-spawning constructs, the fourth circling back to cut fresh swathes through the pursuing swarms, their passage highlighted by emerald detonations. Trusting to his companions to do their part, Nuadhu focused on the spyder before him, Drake’s Fang pulsing in his hands, matching the thunder of his heart.
The spyder drifted rather than walked, its limbs thrashing back and forth beneath its body to conjure new scarabs out of seemingly empty air. Beams of scatter laser and brightlance flashed past, scoring deep wounds upon the curved flanks of the construct while controlled bursts of shuriken fire tore apart the freshly emerging mechanical insects. Arcane energy rippled from beneath the spyder, meshing together the seared carapace wounds, sealing damage amid a surge of jade power.
Nuadhu picked his spot, between the many-lensed head and the sloping plates of the main body. Through the spirit-link B’sainnad felt his intent and eased the Vyper across to compensate, leaving clear the strike on the right-hand side. The spyder moved with cumbersome grace, its sedate movements no match for Nuadhu’s deadly aim.
Drake’s Fang cleaved into the living metal with a thunderous crack of power as B’sainnad wrenched the Vyper away, splitting open the spyder’s shell amid a blinding expulsion of energy. The shock wave lapped over Nuadhu – as a chill wind, not heat, the otherworldly power sapping at his spirit rather than burning flesh. He shivered as awakened recollection flashed ancient memories of spirit-vaults broken open, the transitory panic and wailing of departing souls eating into his heart.
Off balance, he almost fell when B’sainnad pulled them onto a new trajectory to avoid a sudden burst of gauss fire from the surrounding necrontyr. His fingers found the rail of the fighting platform at the last instant, even as the tip of his foot teetered on the edge. He swung away from the Vyper, the blade of Drake’s Fang unintentionally cutting through the metal scalp of a warrior as it laboured to track his progress with a gleaming rifle.
With the bulky arachnid constructs destroyed, the warriors responded to the threat in their midst, a storm of emerald beams lancing up from the homogeneous mass of metal skeletons. Jetbikes fell from the skies and riders disappeared, consumed by crawling fronds of green energy unleashed by the horrific technology of the necrontyr.
‘Into their midst, give them no easy target,’ called Nuadhu. He braced himself again, Drake’s Fang couched under his arm as B’sainnad dropped the Vyper low. ‘Cleave to the ground as you would a loved one!’
The lance tip punched through the chest of a warrior, splitting it apart from groin to neck. Whipping free Drake’s Fang, Nuadhu adjusted his stance, bringing the weapon to bear on another target as it lifted its gauss rifle. To the left and right flashes of emerald discharge announced the arrival of the other Wild Riders, their weapons fire like a plough furrowing a field, slashing welts through the column of living metal warriors. Dissipating animus energy rose in a green vapour from the disrupted bodies, so that in the wake of the jetbikes and Vypers trails of emerald mist drifted among the not-dead.
Something heavy clanged against the nose of Alean, and a cracked skull whirled past Nuadhu, eyes dimming even as it became vapour.
‘We have simply swapped one endless foe with another,’ said Caelledhin, bringing her jetbike alongside. The shuriken cannon slung beneath turned a pair of necrontyr to evaporating shards in a brief burst of fire.
I descend.+
Nuadhu felt the presence of Eldrad Ulthran stronger than before, and from the throb across the empathic spirit-link knew that his message had not been for the clan heir alone. With these two words came a welter of impressions scorching through Nuadhu’s thoughts in quick succession. It was too fast to accurately recall each, but he felt an overwhelming urge to break off his assault and make for the central pyramid. Around him the Wild Riders spilt formation and crisscrossed each other with intricately arranged attack runs to allow B’sainnad to extricate them from the depths of the necrontyr phalanx. With no prompting from Nuadhu, the pilot turned the Vyper hard, banking towards the spear of Wave Serpents and supporting grav-tanks as they burst through the last of the foe protecting the inner tomb complex.
Nuadhu saw a small cloudcutter piercing the darkening sky-veil. He marvelled at the power to project thought into so many minds at once, over a considerable distance and through the necrontyr null field, even as he resented the coercion that now summoned him to attend to the farseer.
Chapter 19
TO THE VAULT
High-powered weapons lashed down into the cohorts of mechanical warriors, cutting furrows of destruction ahead of the Ynnari advance. Yvraine fought clear of the warriors around her and looked up, Alorynis bounding up to her shoulder. Descending through the clouds, the Beautiful Fury was the image of wrath, its solar sails furled tight, waspish hull silhouetted against the sky while spears of blue energy lanced down into the outskirts of the necrontyr complex. Another atmosphere-capable starship, the Starwander laid a curtain of destruction down upon the necrontyr engulfing the Saim-Hann host. Flights of missiles streamed from the corvette’s batteries, each chasing after a scythe-craft until its target was destroyed in an emerald detonation.
Hemlock wraithfighters flocked down alongside the bombardment, the last of the aerial reserves. A gift from Iyanna Arienal, the former Iyanden attack craft were piloted by spiritseers recruited from various craftworlds, guiding the spirits of the dead that pulsed through the systems of the sleek wraithfighters. Yvraine smiled as ravening warp-tears exploded among the relentless Unliving legion, ripping apart metal skeletons and dragging warriors whole into the other-realm. Against such energies even the necrontyr were powerless, their soulless artificial bodies cast for eternity into the warp where no resurrection teleport could reach.
Flights of Swooping Hawks plunged like vengeful birds of prey, light glittering on their feather-crafted wings. Scatters of grenades fell like seed pods, to blossom into fiery torrents among the scarab swarms. Into these holes dived the Aspect Warriors, lasblasters scything into the warriors below.
The aeldari of Yvraine and Saim-Hann pushed fast into the gaps, shuriken catapults, needle rifles and more arcane weapons annihilating those foes that had been spared the rage from the skies. Yvraine ran, her Bloodbrides at her side, but the necrontyr were scorched away beneath the torrent of fire from her companions, like flesh cut by the edge of Kha-vir.
‘Quickly now!’ she called to her followers, projecting her voice across the messenger-waves. ‘The way ahead lies open. We need only secure the vault and victory shall be within our grasp.’
The shock of the aerial assault and renewed ground attack was too much for the ranks of necrontyr warriors. Their self-healing metal bodies were no match for the storm of gunfire, the teleportal arches crackling with fronds of escaping power as they tried to summon even more fighters from the catacombs.
Yvraine felt the earth underfoot change to hardened pavement, and realised they had finally reached the outer precincts of the tomb complex. She could see the main pyramid ahead on her right, perfectly centred between the seven towering defence-mounts that bounded the valley-city. The air around the vault shimmered with interference, a projection between tall needle-like structures. Some kind of defence field, she assumed.
‘Have the starships targ–’ Her command was interrupted by a sudden flexing of the air above the city. Like a storm in full electrical fury, the cloud about the complex convulsed with forks of emerald power. Discharges leapt up in response from the guard-mountains, arcs of blinding energy that snaked along the hulls of the corvettes. Smaller flares struck the whirling wraithfighters, cracking open their fuselages and tearing away wings. Yvraine stumbled as she watched a whole squad of Swooping Hawks struck by one of the deadly bolts, turned to falling jade-gleaming ash in an instant.
The starships pulled away, struggling against the storm as if gripped by fingers of electrical power. The Starwander managed to rip itself free, pieces of superstructure falling away as it tore from the net of overlapping discharges. The Beautiful Fury, being somewhat lower, fared poorly. Engines gleaming white with effort, the attack ship listed heavily while green arcs shattered another stabilising fin. Escape craft scattered like seed pods in a wind as the ship inverted fully, its spine snapped, dorsal galleries shattering like crushed glass.
Staggering to a halt, Yvraine was transfixed by the unfolding demise of the corvette. It was only when she saw the green sheen of necrontyr energy reflected on the blade of the Sword of Sorrows that she realised the glow’s source was not the ongoing display of annihilation playing out overhead.
The trenchways and apertures that turned the complex floor into a maze blazed with fresh energy. Huge slabs snarled out of sight to reveal ramps into the depths, while widening holes flickered with resurrection power, casting long shadows from the distracted aeldari caught amongst them.
Rising with dreadful purpose, monolithic engines coalesced from the streaming energies, each a fresh gateway into the necrontyr undercity. Mobile portals, these machines vomited forth a fresh wave of necrontyr warriors, while other constructs, sleeker and more heavily armed, marched from the tombs.
The ground shook, almost throwing Yvraine from her feet. Steep-sided edifices peeled apart, splitting along geometric divides to reveal floating barges crammed with necrontyr. Elevated above the mass of advancing defenders, these craft streamed with sepulchral power, the gleaming eyes of their riders fixed upon the invaders.
A shout from behind drew her attention to the Visarch, who pointed to a Wave Serpent swooping low over the forests below.
‘Meliniel calls a carriage for us,’ declared her self-appointed bodyguard.
‘Indeed,’ the autarch answered. ‘There is yet time to reach the pyramid.’
Orchestrated by Meliniel, a flotilla of raiders, Wave Serpents, Falcons and other transports swept through the emerging mass of necrontyr, cutting left and right with precise volleys of fire to hold back the growing counter-attack. Kabalite squads and Aspect Warriors surged back towards their craft while Yvraine and her companions dashed to the closest. Meliniel joined them at the ramp, cloak flowing in the speed of his passage.
‘One last attack,’ he told Yvraine as they raced inside. ‘The Wild Riders are cutting through to us as well, two blades aimed at the necrontyr heart. We have one chance only.’
‘And if we fail?’ asked Yvraine, knowing that the autarch had considered the possibility in some detail.
Meliniel sat down opposite as Yvraine settled onto the bench, the lurch of the Wave Serpent’s ascent unusually strong. ‘Eldrad is being conveyed by another escort, to meet us at the pyramid. We shall be in the heart of the tomb complex, surrounded by foes. The lightning field prevents any aerial route of escape.’
‘We die,’ said the Visarch, answering the question more abruptly. ‘If we fail, we die.’
Meliniel looked at the crimson-armoured champion and reluctantly nodded.
More and more necrontyr war engines ascended from the glowing depths. With Alean soaring over the resurgent phalanxes of warriors, Nuadhu had a perfect – and concerning – view of the whole complex. Lifted on beds of jade energy, grand engines evolved from the death barges of their ancient civilisation slid ponderously along the avenues of statues and relief-marked spires. Cannons crackling, batteries of mobile gun platforms that rivalled the Vyper in size spread along the perimeter of the tombscape, cutting off any retreat.
‘They mean to trap us,’ called Caelledhin. ‘If we do not leave now, there will be no way out.’
Nuadhu understood her worry, and though it burned his pride to consider withdrawal he was the clan heir and the destiny of his family was at stake. Fighting back the desire for a glorious battle, he watched the spear of Ynnari grav-tanks and transports thrusting deeper into the necrontyr host. The storm above had relented slightly, flaring across the remnants of the starship still held within its net of insubstantial limbs. Glancing over his shoulder he took in the squadron of jetbikes and Vypers of his Wild Riders, and the swathe of scarlet warriors and machines from across the clans that accompanied them. Among them he picked out the Wave Serpent carrying his father, flanked by a pair of Fire Prisms.
‘We cannot abandon Yvraine,’ he declared, broadcasting his message to all of the Saim-Hann forces. As he spoke, he channelled the raw emotion coursing through him, the unfettered fear, hope and desire fuelling his words. ‘Though it would seem foolish to nourish our honour with fresh blood after so much has been spilt without effect, it would render folly those lives already spent to relent in our purpose now. Our prize is within reach, we have but to render ourselves the strength to strive that little harder for its conclusion. Glory and honour may not feed our children, nor defend our families against death, but they are the foundations of the future that Saim-Hann must build. It is not to hide in the shadows that we were born, but to blaze across the stars. What cost is death if our legacy lives on? Let no fear stall us, no discomfort slow us, no foe bar us. Fate has laid at our feet the path to greatness, only the blind would not follow it!’
B’sainnad guided the Vyper towards the central pyramid, the Wild Riders swarming after, squadrons of scarlet spreading out to either side as the rest of the craftworld host followed.
Nuadhu clung to the feeling of exultation as warrior-laden barges turned towards them, gleaming with spectral energy. It was in the nature of his unfettered mind that he embraced all parts of experience to the fullest, encountering the heights and depths of his aeldari psyche. Confronted by the amassing necrontyr legion, if he did not climb to the peaks of joy at the challenge presented he would surely succumb to the abyss of despair.
Now that Yvraine had awakened the heart of his spirit – or whatever it was that she had done to him – Nuadhu found it easier to find that place in his soul unburdened by fear. Consciously he had his reservations about the Opener of the Seventh Way and her plans for the aeldari race, but there was certainly a part of him where the f
ear of death had been locked away that was now removed.
‘Let us carve the names of our clans into the heart of the foe, and be remembered until the ending of our people! Let those that seek immortality strike their names upon history to earn it.’
Slicing across the awakening tomb city, the Wild Riders led the charge. Vyper weapons spewed volleys of energy into the oncoming necrontyr while missile launchers and star cannons pulsed destruction from the following grav-tanks. Shuriken weapons shredded swathes through the re-emerging infantry below as squadrons swerved between the towering temple-constructs.
The Saim-Hann force split, the bulk of the Wild Riders peeling away back towards the outskirts, their gunners lashing punishing fire into their pursuers as lumbering tomb-barges turned after them. Nuadhu and a small cadre of his followers arced over the needle-spires and towers to join the Wave Serpents and their more heavily armed escorts, punching directly towards the pyramid. From almost directly ahead, on the opposite side, the Ynnari slashed their own course through the monolithic teleporter-engines and soaring weapons platforms of the necrontyr.
A transport-barque reared up ahead of the Saim-Hann charge, jade energy playing along its rib-like flanks as the necrontyr warriors within were awakened from their slumber. Gleaming eyes fixed upon the Wild Riders while arrays of gauss flayers crackled into life along its sides.
With no word spoken, Nuadhu urged B’sainnad directly towards the Unliving abomination. Spears of laser pulses flashed past, striking molten welts across the living metal of the barge as Alean screamed closer. At the last instant B’sainnad slewed the Vyper hard to the left and Nuadhu leapt from his platform, Drake’s Fang held before him. The tip sheared through the chest-plate of the first skeletal warrior as he landed, and continued onwards to pierce the one behind it.
Warriors rose slowly from their stasis crouches as he continued along the ventral channel, cutting them down as they roused from dormancy. The head of his lance gleamed with energy and droplets of liquid metal sizzled across the blade, dancing with their own life as they attempted to reunite with the decapitated and dismembered necrontyr warriors behind him. Surrounded by the sparks of the collapsing stasis field, Nuadhu chopped the head from the last of the incumbents, and darted a look aside to see other arks spinning to the ground trailing flame and broken warriors from the combined fire of Falcons and Fire Prisms, the fractured carcasses raked with further volleys from twisting Wild Rider squadrons.
Wild Rider - Gav Thorpe Page 22