'It's the same thing,' Gaunt said. 'Colonel Corbec. Major Rawne. You can appoint your own juniors and unit chiefs and report back to me in six hours with an assessment of morale. I should have our deployment by then.'
They glanced at each other, taken aback.
'Dismissed,' prompted Gaunt.
The trio turned away confused.
'Milo? Wait, please,' Gaunt said. The boy stopped as the shutter closed after the two men. 'I owe you,' Gaunt told him baldly.
'And you paid me back. I'm not militia or Guard. I only got off Tanith alive because you brought me.'
'Because of your service to me.'
Milo paused. The Elector himself ordered me to stay with you, to see to your needs. I was just doing my duty.'
'Those two brought you along because they thought the sight of you might mollify me, didn't they?'
'They're not stupid,' noted Milo.
Gaunt sat back at his desk. 'Neither are you. I have need of an adjutant, a personal aide. It's dogsbody, gopher work mostly, and the harder stuff you can learn. It would help me to have a Tanith in the post if my working relationship with them is going to continue.'
Before Milo could answer, the shutter slammed open again and Kreff entered, a slate in his hand. He saluted again. 'We've got our orders, sir,' he said.
Distant, rumbling explosions seemed a constant feature of the deadzone on Blackshard. The persistent crump of heavy gunnery drummed the low, leaden sky over the ridgeline. An earthwork had been built up along the ridge's spine and, under hardened bunkers, a detachment of Imperial Guard – six units of the 10th Royal Sloka – were readying to mobilise.
Colonel Thoren walked the line. The men looked like world-killers in their ornate battledress: crested, enamelled scarlet and silver warsuits built by the artisans of Sloka to inspire terror in the enemy.
But perhaps not this enemy. General Hadrak's orders had been precise, but Thoren's heart was heavy. He had no relish for the approaching push. He had no doubt at all it would cost him dearly. To push blind, unsupported, into treacherous unknown territory in the hope of finding a wormhole into the enemy positions that might not even be there. The prospect made him feel sick.
Thoren's subaltern drew his attention suddenly to the double file of sixty men moving down the covered transit trench towards them. Scrawny ruffians, dressed in black, camo-cloaks draped over them, plastered to their bodies by the rain.
'Who in the name of Balor's blood…?' Thorne began.
Halting his column, the leader, a huge blackguard with a mess of tangled beard and a tattoo – a tattoo! – marched up to Thoren and saluted.
'Colonel Corbec, 1st Tanith. First-and-Only. General Hadrak has ordered us forward to assist you.'
'Tanith? Where the hell is that?' asked Thoren.
'It isn't,' replied the big man genially. 'The general said you were set to advance on the enemy positions over the deadzone. Suggested you might need a covert scouting force seeing as how your boys' scarlet armour stands out like a baboon's arse.'
Thoren felt his face flush. 'Now listen to me, you piece—'
A shadow fell across them. 'Colonel Thoren, I presume?'
Gaunt dropped down into the dugout from the trench boarding. 'My regiment arrived here on Blackshard yesterday night, with orders to reinforce General Hadrak's efforts to seize the Chaos stronghold. That presupposes co-operative efforts between our units.'
Thoren nodded. This was Gaunt, the upstart colonel-commissar, it had to be. He'd heard stories.
'Appraise me, please,' said Gaunt.
Thoren waved up an aide who flipped up a map-projector, and displayed a fuzzy image of the deadzone. The foe are dug in deep in the old citadel ruins. The citadel had a sizeable standing defence force, so they're well equipped. Chaos cultists, mostly, about seventeen thousand able fighting men. We also…' he paused.
Gaunt raised a questioning eyebrow.
'We believe there may be other abominations in there. Chaos spawn.'
'Thoren breathed heavily. 'Most of the main fighting is contained in this area here, while artillery duels blight the other fronts.'
Gaunt nodded. 'Most of my strength is deployed along the front line. But General Hadrak also directed us to this second front.'
Thoren indicated the map again. The foe are up to more than simply holding us out. They know sooner or later we'll break through, so they must be up to something – trying to complete something, perhaps. Recon showed that this flank of the city might be vulnerable to a smaller force. There are channels and ducts leading in under the old walls, a rat-maze, really.'
'My boys specialise in rat-mazes,' Gaunt said.
'You want to go in first?' Thoren asked.
'It's mud and tunnels. The Tanith are light infantry, you're armoured and heavy. Let us lead through and then follow us in support when we've secured a beachhead. Bring up some support weapons.'
Thoren nodded. Very well, colonel-commissar.'
