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It was not good to think about such things. Corvus knelt down beside Ephrenia.
‘There will be guards on the overhead monitoring gallery,’ he told her. ‘You know which way to go?’
‘Yes, Corvus, of course,’ she replied, in a tone children seemed to reserve for patronising adults. ‘I’ll pass by the kitchen flues, the ovens will have been damped at first alert.’
‘Good,’ Corvus said again, sending the girl on her way with a paternal smile. ‘Get something to eat.’
She nodded and ran off down the corridor.
‘Come on, come on,’ muttered Standfar, a white-haired old-timer who had been chosen as lockpick on the mission.
‘Relax,’ said Dorsis. The team leader glanced at Corvus and then at the battered bronze chronometer he had been given. ‘At least another two minutes until the next patrol.’
Corvus nodded in agreement. He needed no timepiece, his internal clock as accurate as anything that could be fashioned or stolen by the prisoners. They waited in tense silence as the rumble of the lift grew louder and louder.
With a heavy thud, the elevator arrived. Nepe
The elevator was empty.
‘I wish you were coming with us,’ said Agapito, as the others hurried into the lift. The youth craned his neck to look into the face of the prisoners’ guerrilla commander, who now stood more than a head higher than the tallest amongst them, his u
‘Too much chance that I will be seen,’ replied Corvus, slapping the young man on the arm. ‘If a guard were to see me, our secret would be out. Better that I keep my head down for the moment. I know you will do just fine without me.’
With a nod, Agapito stepped into the conveyor with the others. Corvus slammed the doors closed with a smile and an encouraging wink. Now alone in the hall, he felt very exposed. The clatter of the elevator chains sounded dully from the shaft as the lift ascended towards the upper levels.
It was hard not to get excited. The nascent rebellion was barely started, but momentum was surely building. Corvus had spent a year pla
Corvus had watched and noted the guards’ actions when a few small-scale incidents had been staged. A fight here, a sit-in protest there. He had, somewhat foolhardily he realised, sat u
This exercise was just the latest in the last few days to test out his theories. It would not be wise to act too soon, and every tiny insurrection and discipline breach had been carefully timed not to arouse suspicion. If the enemy had any idea that their charges were building up to something, the patterns would change and Corvus would be forced to start over. Even so, he was committing his followers to a road that would lead inevitably to outright rebellion. The ammunition that would be stolen by the party he had just sent would not be missed for another ten days – he had checked the manifest inspection dates that morning. By then the guards might co
In fact, Corvus was depending upon it.
When the guards left their blocks, they were vulnerable. Though they outgu
The clump of a boot forced Corvus to retire into the nearby shadow of a support girder. Three guards, one of them a corporal, marched directly past him, their eyes passing over Corvus as if he was not there.
As they were about to turn the corner, the corporal stopped. His head turned towards the maintenance access panel. Corvus could see nothing wrong, but the guards were suddenly wary for some reason. It was then that Corvus saw what the corporal had spotted: tiny flecks of oil spattered on the whitewashed wall.
U
It would mean a step up in the timetable. The death of three security men would not go unpunished. Corvus considered his contingency plans as he loomed over the guards.
‘Find out who’s on cleaning rota for this sector,’ the corporal said, jabbing his truncheon towards the offending oil stain. ‘Punishment detail, five days.’
‘Yes, corp,’ replied one of the guards.
Corvus stopped mid-stride, hands moments from the necks of his chosen victims, who were still oblivious to his presence.
The trio moved on and Corvus breathed out slowly, fading back to the shadows.
All was well. The plan was still on track. In forty days from now, Lycaeus would be free.
‘WHAT’S HE DOING now?’
Lukar, as usual, felt the need to give voice to the question that the rest of the squad had not dared ask. Sergeant Dor had Alpharius and the others covering three of the dozens of branching corridors that led away from the chamber at the bottom of the elevators. The rest of the Raven Guard were placed in defensive positions close to the other entrances.
Alpharius glanced quickly to his right to where Corax paced back and forth between the various openings, head bowed in thought. The Custodians stood close to the primarch, helmeted heads turning left and right as they followed his reciprocating course. The Mechanicum contingent were fussing over one of the combat servitors, which had burst several hydraulic lines under the weight of the legionaries that had ridden on it during the half-hour long elevator descent.
‘We’re stuck,’ said Ca
‘No, that can’t be right,’ said Sergeant Dor. ‘He must know the way.’
‘Something isn’t right,’ said Alpharius. ‘Everything about this mission has been ad-hoc so far. We’ve barely had a briefing. I’m with Ca
‘We can’t be trapped,’ insisted Dor. ‘There’s only been one way to come so far: one big entrance tu
Marko turned his head back towards the passage with a grunt of apology.
‘But he doesn’t know where to go next,’ said Lukar. ‘Or if he does, he’s taking his time deciding what to do.’
‘Ancient defences,’ said Dor. ‘There must be something up ahead that he’s trying to figure out.’