The Unremembered Empire Part 25

*Ingeniously so,' said Redloss. *He used the lives of our battle-brothers to make Guilliman throw open the door for him.'

The Lion's lips trembled in rage. *Find him,' he whispered.

*Lord, Ia'

*Find him.'

*The Ultramarines will not permit free movement in the Civitas precinct, My lord, soa'

*Then be ingenious. Find him.'

Redloss nodded.

*Will you tell him, lord?' he asked. *Will you tell Guilliman?'

*We cannot explain it,' said Nessus to his lord in a low voice. Guilliman thumbed his way through the slate's datalog for the third time.

*A squad dead?'

*Menius's troop, in Barium Square, not less than thirty minutes ago. They were not just killed, they were silenced. They were torn apart.

*This isn't the work of the Dark Angels...'

*It does not look like their handiwork at all, nor would that answer make much sense. Why this one incident if all the others stood down peacefully?'

*Something else was in that pod,' said Guilliman.

*Indeed. Theoretical, it slew the original occupants and took their place. We're a.n.a.lysing the blood found in the pod now.'

*What has he brought here? What has he brought to my world?'

*Your n.o.ble brother?' asked Nessus. *My lord, this may be something he has no knowledge of. Hea'

*It was on his ship. It was in his pod. It killed his men. He must know what he has brought here.'

Guilliman looked at Nessus.

*Inform Auguston. We raise our security status to Ready One, city-wide and in the Fortress. Mobilise in strength. Household and Legion. Scour Barium Square and the routes out of it. Gene-traces, footprints, blood trails, anything. Access security picters in the deme. Something or someone must have caught a glimpse. I want to know what this is and where it's going. I want it found, and I want it stopped before it kills again.'

Nessus snapped off his salute and turned to leave the room. The Lion was re-entering.

*What have you brought here?' Guilliman asked.

*I'm sorry? What?' the Lion replied, pausing in the doorway.

*If my face is anything like yours, brother,' said Guilliman, walking up to him, *and I believe it is a great deal more open, then we have both been recipients of disturbing news. So, I ask again... What have you brought here?'

*Farith Redloss was simply confirming the facts of the incident,' said the Lion. *A mechanical failure, probably the result of storm damage. I wanted an answer quickly, and it has been provided. The pod drop wasa'

*No,' said Guilliman. He took another step towards the Lion. *We just spoke, brother to brother, of the need for honesty. We spoke more freely than we have ever spoken. You told me that my honesty is why you stayed your censure, and admitted to me that you could be far too closed at times. We agreed that only true honesty would allow the Emperor's loyal sons to stand against the darkness and drive it back. So we start. Now.'

Guilliman held up the data-slate that Nessus had given him so that the Lion could read the report on its screen-surface.

*What is this?' Guilliman snarled. *Tell me what you have brought to Macragge, or by the name of Ultramar, I swear I will put you through that wall.'

*You will try...' the Lion replied, stiffening.

*d.a.m.n you, brother! Trust me and speak the truth now or we are done and finished! What have you brought to Macragge?'

The Lion sighed.

*Konrad,' he said.

The wall was high, high and mighty, but it was just a wall. Walls could be climbed, and gates opened. Veins could be opened too.

Less than a shadow, Curze rippled up the Aegis Wall like a black autumn leaf fluttered upwards by the night breeze. Above him, like a geometric mountain, towered the bulwarks of the Fortress.

The sons of Ultramar marched from this great bastion, so eager to boast of their prowess and their fort.i.tude, so eager to celebrate their courage.

Curze reached the rim of the wall and vaulted onto the parapet. He looked back over the city below, a sea of lights. The night sky, with its one foul glowing star, shimmered behind the re-lit void shields.

Sentries on circuit were approaching. He could see them in his mind before he smelled the dry heat of their power armour. He opened a shadow, slid into its embrace and extended his claws.

He was inside the Fortress of Hera, inside the cradle of the haughty Ultramarines.

Tonight, at last a and long, long past time a they would know fear.

John woke. He was in a bas.e.m.e.nt or cellar, tied to a wooden chair. There was a tang of blood in his mouth.

The Word Bearer sat facing him on a metal crate. His weapon lay across his lap in its case. John's carrybag stood on the floor at his feet.

*What do you want?' John asked.

*To renegotiate and then conclude the business we began on Traoris,' said the Word Bearer.

*Nareka'

*Call me lord. Show me respect.'

*I do not feel I am in a position to negotiate much,' said John. His head hurt, but he reached out with his mind anyway. Perhaps...

No. It was futile. John's initial suspicions had been correct. The torc around the Word Bearer's throat was a powerful psychic hood. Narek had come prepared.

*You want it,' said John. *Take it.'

Narek did not reply for a while. He kept his gaze fixed on John Grammaticus. Then he put aside his cased rifle and reached down to the carrybag. He took a bundle out of it, unwrapped it, and held the fulgurite spear up in the half-light. It didn't look like much: a forked spearhead of dull grey mineral, unfinished, no longer than a gladius.

But it was a piece of the Emperor's psychic lightning, fused into a fulgurite in the sands of Traoris. It was a weapon of extraordinary power. With it, one could kill a G.o.d.

Or, most certainly, one could kill the son of a G.o.d. Even the one son-of-a-G.o.d who was impossible to slay otherwise.

*It is potent,' said Narek. *I can feel the life in it, the power. It is... G.o.dlike.'

*It is a fragment of divinity,' said John. *Or something as close to divinity as we will ever know.'

*I could take it, and leave you dead,' said Narek.

*This is entirely what I expect,' said John.

Narek turned the spearhead over in his hands.

*One thing has become clear to me,' he said, *through my pursuit of you here and on Traoris. This is a powerful weapon, but you... you are a notable being too. You would not have been charged with the recovery and use of this if you were not something... special.'

*I'm just an agent fora'

*You are a Perpetual.'

John faltered. *Ia'

*So old, so rare, so forgotten. You are the legend of a legend, the myth of a myth. But the Word Bearers are the keepers of the word and the lore, and in our histories are even the ghosts of myths remembered... the old ones. The long-lived ones. The eternal kind. The first and last. The Perpetuals.'

*It's more complicated than that,' said John, *a lot more complicated than that in my case. Ia'

*The details don't matter,' said Narek. *I know what a Perpetual is capable of. I understand. After all, we are all proof of what the oldest and most powerful Perpetuals can do.'

*What is that?'

*Build an Imperium.'

John let his head drop and he exhaled slowly.

*Just kill me, Narek,' he said.

*Has your life been so endless that you long for death?'

*I know when I'm beaten,' John replied.

There had been a flash of truth in the Word Bearer's remark. John was tired. But death was not a permanent state in his case. The Cabal saw to that. If he could goad Narek enough, death might become an escape route anda *The spear is powerful, John Grammaticus,' said Narek, *but I fancy it is even more powerful when one of your kind wields it. So you become, you see, part of the weapon.'

*There is some truth in that,' said John. There seemed little point lying.

*Then I will take you both, you and the spear. As one, you will be my weapon, for the purpose I have ordained.'

*And what would that purpose be, Narek?'

*Respect!' hissed the Word Bearer.

*What would that purpose be, my lord?' asked John. *I know why I want the spear. I know what deed is expected of me. What do you intend to do with it?

*I intend,' said Narek, *to perform holy work. I intend to cleanse the soul of my Legion of the daemonic pollution that contaminates it.'

He held up the speartip. Despite its dull finish, they could both see the tiny flashes of power that coursed through it.

*I intend to save the Legion of the Word Bearers,' said Narek, *and you are going to help me accomplish that.'

*How?' asked John Grammaticus. *What exactly do you intend to do?'

*I will cleanse the soul of my Legion,' said Narek, *by seeking out and slaying Lorgar Aurelian.'

*My lord. My lord, no!' Gorod cried.

*Curze?' Guilliman roared. With one hand he had smashed the Lion back into the wall. He held him there by the throat. *You brought that monster to my world?'

*Unhand me,' said the Lion.

*Answer!'

*I have not resisted you, Roboute, but you molest me. Unhand me or we will swiftly discover which of us is the superior combatant.'

*My lord!' Gorod repeated. The bodyguard had closed around them, hoping that they would not be obliged to drag the primarchs apart. They did not want to lay a hand upon their master, the Avenging Son.

Guilliman did not loosen his grip.

*Tell me how this happened. Tell me about Curze!'

The Lion's hands remained at his sides. He did not resist the fury and the formidable pressure pressing him into the wall, but it was plainly a feat of determination not to.

*Since Thramas, I have held several officers of his Legion prisoner,' the Lion said, *including that b.a.s.t.a.r.d known as Sevatar. Curze was on my ship too, loose in the unregulated decks. I hunted him. He could not escape, but I could not capture him. It appears he has now... made his exit.'

*Upon your arrival, this wasn't the first thing you chose to tell me?' asked Guilliman. *That one of the worst of our traitor brothers hides within your flagship?'

*In hindsight, I could have been more... open,' said the Lion. *In truth, as we are speaking plainly, I was ashamed that I could not confine him. I would gladly have brought him before you in chains, on his knees and pleading, so we might have sequestered him in your darkest dungeons. While he was free, however, he was my problem, my curse to contend with.'

*But you didn't,' said Guilliman, *and men are dead because of it, and more will die, and we are at each other's throats.'

*Quite literally,' said the Lion, looking down at Guilliman's crushing hand.

Guilliman released his grip and stepped back. The Lion stood up properly.

*That will not happen again,' said the Lion.

*It might,' replied Guilliman.

*Not that way around.'

*Don't test me, brother!' Guilliman snapped. *Can you not see the anger in me?'

*I can, but I am better at hiding things, and you clearly cannot see the anger in me. That will not happen again.'