A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain

She looked up as he and Sonovar entered, and her eyes betrayed no sign of recognition at the sight of her father. He in turn spared her no thought. She had chosen to ignore the orders of her father, her lord and her clan, and had sworn herself to an usurper and a traitor. He had no kinship with her now. She was nothing but an enemy.

But in the part of his soul that spoke not as a warrior or a lord, but as a man, he was proud to see his daughter stand so tall, so ready, so much a warrior in her every essence.

He looked around and saw Tirivail in the far corner, her eyes and bearing troubled. Concern festered within him. She had changed greatly since her return from Anla'Verenn–veni. He did not know the cause of this change within her, or what he could do to soothe her pain. All he could do was speak to her as lord to soldier. He had long ago forgotten how to speak as father to daughter.

Tirivail's eyes were locked onto her sister. Lanniel in turn paid her no heed.

'So,' Sonovar said, softly. 'We have a guest.' His words were flat and harsh. 'Why are you here, traitor?'

'I have been sent to deliver a message to you,' she said simply. There was no passion in her voice, no hatred, just a simple statement of fact.

'Then give me your words.'

'It is for you only,' she replied, holding up a data crystal. 'This is yours.'

One of the guards took it from her and studied it carefully. Takier knew it to be what it seemed. It was not poisoned, nor any form of explosive device or other instrument of assassination. Of course, it might yet contain ways to destroy or wound. Words could do that.

Sonovar took it and held it up to the light, seeing the rays illuminate and scatter across its surfaces. 'Ah,' he said. 'I wonder what proud words Sinoval has for me. Perhaps he wishes to surrender?' Takier half–wondered whether that was a joke. A year ago he would have been sure it was, and would have laughed accordingly. But then Sonovar was a very different person from the one he had been a year ago.

Sonovar turned his gaze back from the crystal to Lanniel. 'And is that the extent of your mission?'

'I am to take any reply you may have back to my lord Primarch.'

Sonovar smiled. 'Ah.... then your mission is indeed finished. I have no words to say to him. None whatsoever, despite what he may choose to say to me, despite whatever lies he chooses to try to feed me. You see, your mission is over.

'Tirivail!'

She stepped forward. 'I am at your command, my lord.'

'That is your sister, yes?'

'Once, that was correct, my lord. Now she is.... nothing. A traitor, no more.'

'I am glad to hear that. As you said, she is a traitor. Kill her.'

Takier clenched his hand into a fist, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. He looked directly at Lanniel, and felt her eyes meet his. He hoped she could see his pride. She was not moving, not crying out in fear, not trying to flee or beg for her life. She was going to die as a warrior should. What more could a father ask of his daughter than that she die well?

The five guards stepped aside, ready for Tirivail to move forward. Sonovar looked away, focussing once more on the crystal. Takier did not. He could not have turned from the sight of his children.

Once, he had had three children. Now, he had but one.

Tirivail and Lanniel looked at each other for a long while, and for the first time Lanniel seemed to recognise her sister's presence. Something passed between them in that moment, something indefinable, that not even Takier himself could truly comprehend. He had had a brother, who had died in battle long years before. Since then he had been alone, unable to experience the bond his daughters had shared.

Abruptly Tirivail turned to face Sonovar. She fell to her knees and extended her pike to him. It was ready to be used.

'I cannot obey your command, my lord,' she said, her voice strained. 'My life is yours. Take it, for my failure.'

Sonovar looked at her suddenly, shocked, even stunned. He staggered back, then turned and left, not running, but certainly moving faster than was dignified or appropriate.

All eyes turned to Takier. He looked first at Tirivail. 'Rise,' he said. 'Go to your quarters to await your lord's decision.' She bowed once, and then left. 'As for.... her.... place her in a cell. See that she is well–guarded, but also that she is well cared for. Remain there until Lord Sonovar or I say something different.'

He turned and made to leave, but something, something he could not accurately express, forced him to turn and look at his daughters. 'I am proud of you,' he said. 'Both of you.' Then he left.

It was the first time he had ever said those words to either of them, but he had meant them. He had meant them a thousand times over.

* * *

Sonovar laid the data crystal down on the table and closed his eyes. He could still hear Sinoval's words echoing around his dead chamber. He could still feel Sinoval's presence in every particle of air, a ghost that would haunt him until he died.

He had nothing to say. It was lies, all of it. Lies! It had to be, had to be.

But what if it were true? What if...? No, it was lies.

He did not know. He did not know.

He turned the merest instant before Forell came into view, bearing as ever his silver tray and golden goblet. Sonovar darted to his advisor's side and scooped up the drink, draining it, heedless of the crimson rivulets that ran down his chin, dripping onto his tunic and to the floor, each one a drop of blood falling from his mouth.

'The elixir is life.' The words came to him somehow, from somewhere, from some part of his consciousness. 'The elixir is blood. The blood is life.'

'True words, great lord,' rasped Forell. He took back the goblet Sonovar thrust at him. 'True words, indeed.' Sonovar had not even been aware he had spoken aloud. 'Were there equally true words from the traitor, Primarch Sinoval?'

Don't give him that title! Sonovar turned, about to shout the words aloud, but he stopped, wondering for a minute whether he had already said them. It did not matter. 'I do not know,' he said, trying to remember what it was Sinoval had said. It was strange, just a moment before he could hear Sinoval, hear his every syllable. Now, it seemed as if the message had come to him from another galaxy.

'No,' he said at last. 'It was lies. All of it. A lie.'

'Then will you give him a reply, great and noble lord?'

'No.... yes.... I do not know. What does it matter? I am a warrior, not a diplomat. I need no words. My voice is in my blade.'

'Indeed it is, great lord. Then you must send him a message by means other than words, yes?'

'Yes. Yes, I must. I am a warrior! My voice is in my blade.'

'Attack his shipyards. Attack his people.'

'Yes!' Sonovar turned away from his advisor, and began to pace up and down. 'Yes! I will destroy him! We will attack!'

'Krindar, my lord. He is building a new fleet there, a strange, dark new breed of ships. Greater Krindar. That is where his shipyards are.'

'Greater Krindar. We will burn his shipyards to the ground, raze them to nothing but ash and dust. Yes.... that is what we will do. We are warriors, after all. Forell! Fetch my captains. Takier, Kozorr, Haxt....' He paused. 'No. Kozorr and Haxtur are gone.... left me. Forell, what...?'

'I shall fetch Lord Takier to you, great lord, that you may communicate to him your grand plan. You shall gain a great victory at Greater Krindar, lord.'

'What is at Krindar?'

'The shipyards of the Accursed One, great lord.' Forell's voice was calm and patient, as though explaining to a child.

And perhaps a child was what he was explaining to. A cloud had slipped over Sonovar's mind for a time, a dark and foggy cloud, but it was beginning to pass, slowly, revealing flickers of light and no more. He could see Sinoval standing there, hear his words.

'That I know,' he said. There were shipyards at Krindar, yes.... but were they Sinoval's? He could not seem