by Guy Haley
‘My lord!’ Felix fell to his knees, his armour banging loudly on the stone.
‘You, Lord Marneus Calgar,’ said Guilliman, looking to the Ultramarines Chapter Master, ‘will continue to rule the central worlds, with the exception of those in the systems of Konor, Veridia and Espandor, which shall fall under the remit of the first tetrarch. In this way, Ultramar will be divided into five parts.’
Guilliman’s support of him was sincere enough, but Calgar saw a scolding behind it.
At that moment, the emissary from Occluda spoke up. He was angered, both by his planet being passed over for the tetrarchy and because it should be reincorporated in the first place.
‘My lord, what do you mean, that many of the warriors will be Primaris Space Marines?’ he asked.
A glance from the primarch had him hurriedly sitting down.
‘My concerns that a single Chapter could not protect the Five Hundred worlds remain valid,’ said Guilliman. ‘I have therefore decided to station eight new Chapters of Space Marines – created recently at Raukos – within the bounds of Greater Ultramar. Along with the Ultramarines, and the Scythes of the Emperor, whose territories fall within the fourth tetra, there will be henceforth ten full Chapters to defend this realm.’
This provoked a noisy reaction. Guilliman ignored it, and carried on.
‘Work will be immediately undertaken to rebuild the Scythes of the Emperor with Primaris Space Marines. They will have responsibility for protection of what is currently the Sotharan League. Here, at Callimachus, we shall base the Avenging Sons Chapter, and at Howsbridge the Praetors of Ultramar shall have their home–’
The murmuring broke out into audible protests.
‘You would have your own Legion?’ said a female diplomat. ‘My lord, what is your intention?’
‘You say I have a Legion,’ said Guilliman, his tone dangerously low, ‘when I myself expressly forbid their formation or use?’
The woman had a choice to either sit down or to press forward. Bravely, she chose the latter. ‘Your nine divisions of the Unnumbered Sons were said to be a Legion.’
‘They were not,’ said Guilliman. ‘We deal with semantics. The Unnumbered Sons were organised into Chapters, as are the new defenders of Ultramar.’ He swept his steely gaze across the crowd again. ‘Listen to me. My intention is to save your lives, and the Imperium. Put aside your selfish concerns. Negate the disappointment I have felt in common humanity since awakening. Show me that my hopes for our species were not unfounded. Impress me with your wisdom.’
‘What about the Imperial governors?’ said another diplomat. ‘What will happen to those of worlds who take tetrarchs?’
‘Some of them are loyal,’ added another. ‘They willingly rejoined the Five Hundred Worlds, and now you will remove them and replace them with Adeptus Astartes?’
Chatter from among the human contingent in the room swelled in volume. The Space Marines remained silent.
‘My lord,’ said Herodian, the son of the Hierarch of Callimachus. ‘The galaxy has changed since your time. The worlds of Space Marine Chapters are often of low worth to the Adeptus Terra. Their tithe grades are set to null. Death worlds and the like, they are recruiting grounds only. Callimachus is a well-developed planet. Howsbridge, though lesser in importance and population, is no backwater either.’
Guilliman was not swayed by the young man’s practised tone. ‘I am changing things,’ he said, and his eyes became cold and hard as cometary ice. ‘The Chapters stationed throughout Ultramar will be tasked primarily with the realm’s defence. Callimachus and Howsbridge will be governed by their Chapter Masters, as will all other worlds where Chapters will be stationed. Do not mistake me. There will be a need for civilian governors just as there is here on Macragge. The existing planetary governors will be given the opportunity to retire after a period of ten years. During the handover period, they will be commanded to work with their successors to handle the transition. Once completed, their heirs shall be offered the opportunity to serve Ultramar as the administrators of those worlds. They will rule still.’
‘They will not be commanders!’ said Herodian. ‘We have served the Imperium faithfully for three thousand years. Is this to be our reward? My father’s title was bestowed by the Emperor himself.’
‘The title,’ said Guilliman, ‘was bestowed by the High Lords of Terra, who were speaking on behalf of the Emperor. I am not speaking on behalf of the Emperor – I am speaking with His full and absolute authority. Unlike the High Lords, I have recently conversed with Him. This is an offer I advise you not to refuse, Herodian.’
Many representatives began shouting then, their questions flying at the primarch. Their own power threatened, they seemed to lose a little of their fear of him.
Power is corrosive, thought Calgar. It erodes respect. It erodes common sense.
The delegates’ reaction strengthened his conviction that what Guilliman was doing was right.
‘My people!’ the primarch said. He stood upright. ‘My captains, my sons, my loyal citizens, you do not understand. These changes will benefit us all, and in time will aid the Imperium. I intend to make Ultramar a model of what the Imperium can be. Look beyond your own borders – you will see our empire is crumbling! I will shore up the walls and make it great again. With the Five Hundred Worlds secure, we shall become a beacon of reason and hope. From here, the reconquest of the galaxy can begin.’
‘You do not intend to remain then?’ said Alvaro, Chapter Master of the Howling Griffins.
‘No, my son, not forever,’ said Guilliman. He turned his face upon Marneus Calgar. Calgar struggled to hold eye contact. ‘The task of presiding over all the tetrarchs I leave to you, Master Calgar. You remain Lord Defender of Greater Ultramar. You are the ruler here, as you always were. Do not judge yourself by my standards. I am a primarch, you are not. I must lend you the weight of my authority and the warriors to keep Ultramar safe. The Imperium needs Ultramar, but it also needs me. I cannot remain here, but I will leave you in a position of greater strength when I leave. We have lost many warriors here, and three of the realm’s six star forts. I will let my attention linger a little on our home, until I am satisfied.’
Another subtle rebuke cloaked in kind words. Calgar bowed his head. Guilliman should not need to do this. Calgar should have managed the realm himself; having the primarch intervene was humiliating.
‘As you command, my lord,’ said Calgar.
‘And now, to the war,’ said Guilliman. ‘My brother retreated from Macragge at the first sign of my ships. The siege of Ardium is almost over. I will return there to conclude its relief when we are done here. After the situation is stabilised in the home system, we will counter the actions of the three enemies who dare to invade our realm. We must attack on every front, even if it means defeat within certain theatres. Mortarion’s forces must be prevented from moving to reinforce themselves. They must all be occupied.’
‘Cut them off and cut them into pieces,’ said Quentus Carmagon, Third Captain of the Knights Cerulean. ‘Only you could do this, my lord.’
‘My preference is to unite and lead,’ said Guilliman grimly. ‘But where I turn from peace to war, I shall divide and conquer.’ He tapped the map. ‘I shall run my brother down, and I shall kill him for all the evil he has done. If I could slay him a hundred times, I would. No suffering is too great for his crimes, the first and greatest of which was his treachery.’
‘Where first, my lord?’ asked Bardan Dovaro, Chapter Master of the Novamarines.
‘Where first indeed.’ Guilliman crooked a giant finger. The gates of the hall opened, and a hololith emitter floating on a suspensor field was pushed in by a pair of Chapter serfs. A quartet of Sisters of Silence bearing tall spears escorted it, each forming the corner of a hollow square around it. The machine was guided to a gentle stop not far from the table.
‘Before we came
here, I had Tetrarch Felix lead an expedition to the Palace Spire of Hive Creostos on Ardium,’ said Guilliman. ‘I needed to know how my brother is effecting this plague of the dead, and how his daemonic allies are able to cage themselves in false flesh so easily in the heart of our kingdom.’ He paused. ‘There are certain writings that refer to an artefact known as the Hand of Darkness. I believed this device to be the cause.’
‘We know of it,’ said Calgar. ‘It was taken by Abaddon centuries ago, and used by him in the Gothic War. Some learned men say it allowed him to subvert the Blackstone Fortresses in the Gothic Sector. There is little else in our records.’
‘It is an ancient device, from aeons before the first age of humanity in the stars,’ said Guilliman. ‘He who possesses it can direct the energies of the warp easily, and on a massive scale.’ He paused again. ‘It has come to my knowledge that Mortarion has it – a gift from the Despoiler.’
‘From which source do you know this?’ asked Calgar.
‘The Ynnari of the aeldari. They did not claim the device as theirs, but I suspect it was crafted by their forebears. They have an interest in knowing its whereabouts.’
A murmur passed through the crowd. The aeldari had been instrumental in returning Roboute Guilliman to life, but they were xenos, and could not be trusted.
‘Peace, my people. I do not take their word at face value. It was one of many things their envoys revealed to me during my journey to Terra. They insisted that the dead walked at Abaddon’s command across the galaxy because of some subversion of this device by Mortarion. When tidings of this new plague of the unliving afflicting Ultramar reached me upon my crusade, it gave weight to their argument. The rebellions we have been suffering added to my conviction. They are a madness, and what is madness but a malady of the mind? Observe. Sisters, activate the hololith.’
One of the Sisters of Silence turned the device on. It thrummed powerfully. Loop projectors glowed as the emitter set up a limited-composition stream-projection cone that glowed silver and white.
‘The Sisters stand guard around this thing to shield you from its power,’ said Guilliman. ‘Even an image of it has the potential to corrupt.’
Combat feed taken by Felix’s helm lenses took shape on the hololith, displaying the strange clock from the Palace Spire chapel.
‘Now see,’ said Guilliman. At a pass of his hand, a further layer was added to the image, a web of globular strands that overlaid one another and pulsed menacingly. They were such a dark green that they were almost black.
‘That does not look like how I imagined the Hand of Darkness,’ said Calgar. ‘I say that is not it.’
‘You are correct, Lord Calgar,’ said Guilliman. He was distracted, somewhat distant, in his troubled state he unknowingly spoke down to the Lord of Macragge. ‘It is not the Hand of Darkness itself, but a device created by Mortarion using the hand’s power and knowledge he has prised from its workings. This network you see here is psychic in nature. It spreads all over Ardium and beyond, reaching from world to world where similar devices are located, aiding the armies of the Plague God. Codicier Maxim, please.’ Guilliman gestured to the Chapter Aurora psyker.
Maxim rose from his position among the assembled Space Marine leaders. He had come to the meeting bareheaded. Beneath the deep blue of his armoured cowl was an old man who had seen enough evil to last several lifetimes. His snowy hair played host to cables burrowed into his scalp. Power shone in the whites of his eyes. They were caged by wrinkled skin, topped by a brow caught in the collapse of a frown that would never lift.
‘I have felt this… uncleanness too closely,’ said Maxim. ‘The touch of it pollutes my mind still. This machine dirtied the psychosphere of Ardium like sepsis in blood. Mortarion has created a psychic weapon that has our people turn against their rulers in the face of all sense, and the dead turn against the living. A net of corruption has been hung about Ultramar by the fallen primarch. Mortarion draws it ever tighter. He sickens the realm in the same way he infects a single man with his phages.’
‘Lord Tigurius had sensed something of this,’ said Calgar. ‘We had no idea of the scale of it.’
‘You did not,’ said Guilliman neutrally. ‘Mortarion’s Legion was famed for its commitment to blunt assault and an obsession with staying power in the face of overwhelming enemy fire. They were crude strategies born of pride, and costly. But he is capable of subtlety, and when he chooses the quiet game he is at his most dangerous.’
‘It would explain why his movements have appeared so random,’ said Captain Torkos of the Howling Griffins. ‘If he were planting these devices…’
‘Quite,’ said Guilliman. ‘My once-brother made these things. He is installing them himself. He never did trust others. Consider how your defences have failed in the areas Mortarion has been seen. The capabilities the devices grant him concern me. If he can draw so directly upon the empyrean in so many locales, other options might be open to him in addition to the creation of undead hordes and the poisoning of minds. The Cicatrix Maledictum’s influence should be weak here in Ultramar, but I find it is not. Mortarion is the cause. The aid of his diseased master is always close to his hand. What is occurring on Iax, for example, gives me great cause for worry. The daemons were brought there, somehow, through this warp network derived from the Hand of Darkness.’
‘Then we should go to Iax,’ said Calgar.
‘Not yet. The creatures there will be too powerful to overcome. First, I shall lead Imperial forces to Espandor. It was there that the war began. It is there that we shall begin the finishing of it.’
The hololith shut off. A collective sigh of relief whispered from the mortal members of the quorum.
‘Espandor lies closest to the Scourge Stars,’ continued Guilliman. ‘It is a corridor for war materiel, a conduit through the warp. Through that system, Mortarion’s armies come, riding fast upon the empyrean tides of this filth we saw upon Ardium.’ Guilliman leaned back from the table, his eyes glinting with the prospect of revenge against his brother. ‘By retaking the system, we will cut off Mortarion’s ability to resupply his fleets. If we can locate these machines upon Espandor and disable them, the torrent of power sickening the soul of Ultramar can be closed off. His daemon legions will struggle to remain manifest. The dead will not rise so easily.
‘Once his mortal forces are isolated from one another, and we can be sure they will not be reinforced by uncanny means, then we might begin their piecemeal destruction. From what Captain Ventris told me at Raukos, the warriors of Espandor Prime still hold out, but their days are numbered. I say now is the moment to lend them the full strength of our armies and retake the system completely. I name this endeavour the Spear of Espandor. Let it be noted.’
There was no discussion, no semblance of inviting debate. The Imperial Regent stated his intention, and it was accepted. The Space Marines in the hall would follow without question.
Guilliman looked down at the map again. ‘I swear it shall be so, for all the people of Ultramar, and the Imperium.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Espandoria Tertio
Espandoria Tertio’s spires were tantalising vertical lines on the horizon. Three weeks of fighting had pushed the Imperial advance closer to the city, through minefield, defence line and trench network. The city was almost won, and with it the eastern part of the main continent. All that lay between the primarch’s forces and victory was the final defence line, moated by a sea of mud that was formerly the River Oderia. The river’s flow was blocked in many places, causing it to back up and its waters to seep into the earth. The result was an expanse of muck where solid and liquid were indivisible.
Within Espandoria Tertio was the last, and the most powerful, of Mortarion’s warp engines on Espandor.
Void shields and defence batteries made an aerial assault impossible. The battle for Espandoria Tertio would be won the way wars had been won since o
ne man had hit another with a rock on the dusty plains of old Afrik.
‘Forward! Forward! Forward!’ Felix screamed as loud his as lungs would allow. His battleplate amplified the cry tenfold, feedback pushing it to the edge of incomprehensibility.
A wave of blue, green, gold, red, black and white armoured Space Marines rose up and followed the Tetrarch of Vespastor in a howling line, charging headlong at the Plague Marine position as if the river were not there to stop them. Dozens of Primaris Space Marines in the livery of the Ultramarines were around Felix, many of whom had fought with him at Ardium, including Sergeant Hellicus and Sergeant Tevian. The rest were grizzled veterans from the first Ultima Founding reinforcements sent to Ultramar. Among them stomped Malcades, the first Primaris Space Marine to fall in Ultramar, now bound into the massive shell of a Redemptor Dreadnought. It was a towering thing, heavier by far than the preceding patterns.
Together, the Primaris Space Marines bounded forwards, outpacing their older counterparts and defying the cratered mudscape to close with their enemy.
Flights of dozens of Land Speeders of many Chapters howled overhead. Their gravitic impellers forced steep Vs of liquid earth to spray skywards, interleaving in patterns of brief beauty. Felix felt the push of their engines as they sped on, and filth rained on him after they had passed. Heavy bolters thunked and barked from the Land Speeders’ topsides. As they drew closer to the enemy, these were joined by the whining scream of assault cannon rotary barrels, and the whooshing roar of meltaguns and rockets.
A bunker on the far side of the mud sea exploded in a cloud of green-tinged flame. Small arms fire rose up to meet the Land Speeders and chased them away, breaking their formation apart. They jinked at incredible speed to avoid being downed, but a few were hit. Directly in front of Felix, one suffered a violent explosion that took its left engine away. Smoking debris curled from its rear, and it took a steep dive. One of the two crew leapt to safety; the other went down with his craft. It tore into the sodden earth with a dull crump, sending up a column of black smoke.