False Gods

'War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueller it is, the sooner it is over,’

Fulgrim said, 'Indeed, my brother. Come, there is much for us to talk about, for these are strange times we live in. It seems our brother Magnus has once again done something to upset the Emperor, and the Wolf of Fenris has been unleashed to escort him back to Terra,’

'Magnus?' asked Horas, suddenly serious. 'What has he done?'

'Let us talk of it in private,’ said Fulgrim. 'Anyway, I have a feeling my subordinates would welcome the chance to reacquaint themselves with your… what do you call it? Mournival?'

Yes,’ smiled Horas, 'memories of Murder no doubt,’

Loken felt a chill travel down his spine as he recog­nised the smile on Horus's face, the same one he had

worn right after he had blown out the Auretian consul's brains on the embarkation deck.

With Horus and Fulgrim gone, Abaddon and Aximand, together with Eidolon, followed the two primarchs, while Loken and Torgaddon exchanged greetings with the Emperor's Children. The Sons of Horus welcomed their brothers with laughter and crashing bear hugs, the Emperor's Children with decorum and reserve.

For Torgaddon and Tarvitz it was a reunion of com­rades, with a mutual respect forged in the heat of battle, their easy friendship clear for all to see.

The apothecary, Fabius, requested directions to the medicae deck and excused himself with a bow upon receiving them.

Lucius remained with the two members of the Mour-nival, and Torgaddon couldn't resist baiting him just a little. 'So, Lucius, you fancy another round in the train­ing cages with Garviel? From the look of your face you could do with the practice.'

The swordsman had the good grace to smile, the many scars twisting on his flesh, and said, 'No thank you. I fear I may have grown beyond Captain Loken's last lesson. I would not want to humble him this time,’

'Come on, just one bout?' asked Loken. 'I promise I'll be gentle.'

'Yes, come on, Lucius,’ said Tarvitz. The honour of the Emperor's Children is at stake,’

Lucius smiled. Very well, then,’

Loken could not remember much of the bout; it had been over so quickly. Evidently, Lucius had indeed learned his lesson well. No sooner had the practice cage shut than the swordsman attacked. Loken had been ready for such a move, but even so, was almost over­whelmed in the first seconds of the fight.

The two warriors fought back and forth, Torgaddon and Saul Tarvitz cheering from outside the practice cages.

The bout had attracted quite a crowd, and Loken wished Torgaddon had kept word of it to himself.

Loken fought with all the skill he could muster, while Lucius sparred with a casual playfulness. Within moments, Loken's sword was stuck in the ceiling of the practice cage, and Lucius had a blade at his throat.

The swordsman had barely broken sweat, and Loken knew that he was hopelessly outclassed by Lucius. To fight Lucius with life and death resting on the blades would be to die, and he suspected that there was no one in the Sons of Horus who could best him.

Loken bowed before the swordsman and said, That's one each, Lucius,’

'Care for a decider?' smirked Lucius, dancing back and forth on the balls of his feet and slicing his swords through the air.

'Not this time,’ said Loken. 'Next time we meet, we'll put something serious on the outcome, eh?'

Any time, Loken,’ said Lucius, 'but I'll win. You know that, don't you?'

Your skill is great, Lucius, but just remember that there's someone out there who can beat you,’

'Not this lifetime,’ said Lucius.

The quiet order met once again in the armoury, though this was a more select group than normally gathered with Lodge Master Serghar Targost presiding over an assem­blage of the Legion's senior officers.

Aximand felt a pang of regret and loss as he saw that, of the Legion's captains, only Loken, Torgaddon, Iacton Qraze and Tybalt Marr were absent.

Candles lit the armoury and each captain had dis­pensed with his hooded robes. This was a gathering for debate, not theatrics.

'Brothers,’ said Targost, 'this is a time for decisions: hard decisions. We face dissent from within, and now Fulgrim arrives out of the blue to spy on us.'

'Spy?' said Aximand. 'Surely you don't think that Ful­grim would betray his brother? The Warmaster is closer to Fulgrim than he is to Sanguinius.'

'What else would you call him?' asked Abaddon. 'Ful­grim said as much when he arrived.'

'Fulgrim is as frustrated by the situation back on Terra as we are,’ said Maloghurst. 'He knows that those who desire the outcome of war do not desire to see the blood of its waging. His Legion seeks perfection in all things, especially war, and we have all seen how the Emperor's Children fight: with unremitting ruthlessness and effi­ciency. They may fight differently from us, but they achieve the same result.'

When Fulgrim's warriors see how the war is fought on Aureus they will know that there is no honour in it,’ added Luc Sedirae. The World Eaters shock even me. I make no secret of the fact that I live for battle and revel in my ability to kill, but the Sons of Angron are… uncivilised. They do not fight, they butcher.'

They get the job done, Luc,’ said Abaddon. That's all that matters. Once the Titans of the Mechanicum break open the walls of the Iron Citadel, you'll be glad to have them by your side when it comes time to storm the breaches,’

Sedirae nodded and said, There is truth in that. The War-master wields them like a weapon, but will Fulgrim see that?'

'Leave Fulgrim to me, Luc,’ said a powerful voice from the shadows, and the warriors of the quiet order turned in surprise as a trio of figures emerged from the dark­ness.

The lead figure was armoured in ceremonially adorned armour, the white plate shimmering in the candlelight, and the red eye on his chest plate glowing with reflected fire.

Aximand and his fellow captains dropped to their knees as Horus entered their circle, his gaze sweeping around his assembled captains.

'So this is where you've been gathering in secret?'

'My lord-' began Targost, but Horus held up his hand to silence him.

'Hush, Serghar,’ said Horus. There's no need for explana­tions. I have heard your deliberations and come to shed some light upon them, and to bring some new blood to your quiet order,’

As he spoke, Horus gestured the two figures that had accompanied him to come forward. Aximand saw that one was an Astartes, Tybalt Marr, while the other was a mortal clad in gold armour, the warrior who had fought to protect the Warmaster's documentarist on Davin.

Tybalt you already know,’ continued the Warmaster. 'Since the terrible death of Verulam, he has struggled to come to terms with the loss. I believe he will find the sup­port he needs within our order. The other is a mortal, and though not Astartes, he is a warrior of courage and strength,’