Deliverance Lost

The statement floated in the air for a while until Agapito realised it was up to him to ask the next question.

‘Are you willing to share those reasons with us, lord?’

‘I must speak with the Emperor,’ replied Corax. ‘We do not know yet whether news of Horus’s perfidy has reached the Imperial Palace.’

‘Surely the Emperor is gifted enough to know when such a tragedy has befallen his realm?’ said Bra

‘The warp storms may serve another purpose beyond stifling travel,’ said Corax. He looked at his commanders, seeing confusion in their expressions. ‘The warp, the Navigators, the astropaths and even the Emperor are linked together. They derive their powers from its energy, and so the storm cover might shield the Emperor’s far-seeing gaze as much as it blinds the Navigators to the route to Terra.’

‘Do you think Horus will attack the Emperor directly?’ asked Solaro. ‘Does he plan to invade Terra?’

‘Certainly,’ said Corax. ‘He has turned from the Imperial Truth and must either destroy the Emperor or be destroyed. The Warmaster’s actions have set us on a course to this confrontation; there can be no other outcome.’

This was greeted with intakes of breath and thoughtful silence for a few moments. Corax sympathised with his subordinates. The magnitude of what Horus had done was difficult to comprehend.

‘It seems Isstvan will become Horus’s folly,’ said Bra

‘We must assume the worst,’ said Solaro, before Corax could speak. ‘If those of the other Legions, who we once trusted with our lives, can be turned, we can place no faith in the loyalty of the Mechanicum or the Imperial Army.’

‘You are right,’ said Corax. ‘We have no idea of the true strength of the rebels.’ He stopped. The word ‘rebels’ did not convey nearly enough the gravitas of what Horus and his conspirators had perpetrated. ‘The traitorswill have pla

‘It’ll be up to us to deny him, of course,’ said Bra

‘Of course,’ said Corax, smiling thinly. ‘It is not in our foes’ interests to see the Imperium destroyed. They look to usurp the Emperor and become the rulers of the galaxy. So they must act quickly, destroying the Emperor and those who will fight with him, before the rest of the Imperium is dragged into the war. No matter what powers Horus has at his disposal, I agree with Bra

The legionaries were filing out below, while more were entering from the open doors in the far wall. Dozens of serfs were clearing the tables and bringing out heaps of fresh rations for the new arrivals. Corax looked down, meeting the eyes of the Raven Guard looking up at their leader. There was a dreary defiance etched into the features of those passing below, a moroseness that the primarch did not like.

‘Sergeant Nestil,’ Corax called out, halting the squad leader. The sergeant stood transfixed for a moment, like a target seeing the glint of a weapon pointed in his direction.

‘Lord Corax?’ Nestil replied. ‘How may I serve?’

‘Why so glum, sergeant?’ Corax kept his tone light-hearted. ‘Is the food not to your liking?’

‘I have eaten better, I must admit, lord,’ said the sergeant.

‘I suspect Horus is sitting on a big pile of grox steaks, sergeant. When we have permission from the Emperor, we’ll go and relieve him of them.’

There was laughter from the gathered legionaries, a little thin but better than the depression that Corax had sensed before.

‘Aye, lord, and no doubt Fulgrim has a few fancies too that we could help him with,’ replied Sergeant Nestil, earning more laughs.

‘You can be sure of that, Lancrato, you can be sure,’ said Corax, laughing along with the poor joke.

The primarch waved the legionaries on and turned his attention back to his commanders. His smile faded quickly.

‘We ca

‘We will fight to the last man,’ said Solaro. ‘Yes,’ said Corax. His next words were to encourage himself as much as his companions. ‘Yet it would be better if we could get Horus’s forces to do that instead. We need a victory, something to restore honour and prestige. If we hole up in Deliverance, we surrender the initiative to our foes. That is not how we fight. With whatever force we can muster, we must take the fight to the traitors. We must prove to ourselves and others that they are not impervious, that an assault on Terra is not inevitable. At the moment we have been dealt a harsh blow, but we ca

‘Are you so sure they will be so easy to break apart, lord?’ asked Agapito. Corax started to walk along the gallery. The great arched windows to his right were shuttered with ribbed steel blocking the view of the warp outside, but he could still feel its presence, like an oppressive atmosphere, a tension that permeated everything. To think that it might be under the control of Horus in some way was disconcerting.

‘Easy? No,’ said Corax in reply to Agapito’s question. ‘Yet there will be disunity. Even under the ba

‘Let us hope we can bring that about,’ said Agapito.

Corax directed a stern stare at the commander, stopping just before the narrow doorway at the end of the gallery. Agapito wilted slightly under the primarch’s unforgiving gaze.

‘We have no room for hope,’ said Corax. ‘We plan and we act. Hope is for dreamers and poets. We have our will and our weapons and we shall dictate our own fate.’

WHEN CORAX HAD departed, Bra

‘Why did you mention hope, brother?’ Bra

‘It was just a turn of phrase, brother,’ said Agapito, clearly taken aback. ‘Of course I remember Gate Forty-Two. Who could forget that slaughter?’

‘Be more careful with your words in the future,’ snapped Bra

Agapito looked as if he would argue, but then bowed his head, accepting the admonishment.

‘As you say, brother,’ he said. ‘I will watch my words carefully in future.’

LOOKING AT THE nearly-empty jars in his small case, Pelon wondered how much longer he could make the spices and herbs last. The praefector had said nothing of the crude fare Pelon had been forced to serve him of late – his breeding was far too good and his military experience too long for such complaints – but it nagged at Pelon’s conscience that a noble of Therion should endure the same bland meals as a common serf.

He had done his best to make Valerius’s sparse quarters accommodating, setting out such belongings as the praefector had brought aboard on the narrow shelves and bedside table. Valerius’s full dress uniform and parade regalia were hung on one wall, along with his gold-hilted power sword, but their bright appearance only highlighted the drab, unpainted bulkheads, rather than drawing the eye away from them.