Nemesis

‘A network of clandestine authority the Eurotas have used to control the Taebian Sector for hundreds of years.’ Spear shook Hyssos’s head. The human’s arrogance was towering; he actually believed that a being as great as the Warmaster would lower himself to such parlour games as disrupting the ambitions of a single petty, venal rogue trader. The reality was, the slow collapse of the Eurotas clan’s fortunes was just a side effect of Horus’s advance across the Ultima Segmentum.

Still; it would serve Spear’s interests to allow the man to think he was the focus of some interstellar conspiracy, when in fact he and all his blighted clan were little more than a means to an end.

‘Ever since the conclusion of the Great Crusade, it has become harder and harder to hold on to things…’ Eurotas sighed. ‘Our fortunes are on the wane, my friend. I have tried to hide it, but it grows worse every day. I thought perhaps, when we return to Terra, I could petition the Sigillite for an audience, and then–’

‘Where is the Warrant of Trade?’ Spear was growing tired of the Void Baron, and he struck out with the question.

Eurotas reacted as if he had been slapped. ‘It… In the reliquary, of course.’ The lie was a poor one at best.

‘I am your senior security operative, sir,’ Spear retorted. ‘Please credit me with some intelligence. Where is the real Warrant?’

‘How did you know?’ He shot to his feet, knocking the water glass to the floor where it shattered. A service mechanical skittered in across the carpet to clean up the breakage, but Eurotas paid it no heed. ‘Only three people…’ He paused, composing himself. ‘When… did you find out?’

Spear studied him. ‘That is of no consequence.’ After the abortive infiltration of the reliquary, the killer had been careful to ensure that no trace of his entry remained. ‘What matters is that you tell me where the real Warrant is now. If you are correct about these agents in the employ of the Warmaster, then we must be certain it is secure.’

‘They were looking for it…’ whispered Eurotas, shocked by the thought.

When the baron looked up at him with cold fear in his eyes, Spear knew that he had the man in his grasp. ‘My sworn duty is to serve the Eurotas clan and their endeavours. That includes your… network. But I cannot do that if the Warrant becomes lost.’

‘That must never happen.’ The Void Baron swallowed hard. ‘It is… not with the fleet. You have to understand, I had little choice. There were certain arrears that could not be paid, favours that were required in order to keep the clan operating–’

‘Where?’ Spear cracked Hyssos’s gruff voice like a whip.

Eurotas looked away, abashed. ‘The Warrant of Trade was touched by the hand of the God-Emperor of Mankind, and so in the eyes of those who embrace the word of the Lectitio Divinitatus, it is a holy object. In exchange for the nullification of a number of very large debts, I agreed to allow an assemblage of nobles involved with the Theoge to take possession of the Warrant for… for an extended period of pilgrimage.’

‘What nobles?’ Spear demanded. ‘Where?’

‘They have not answered my communications. I fear they may be dead or in hiding. When Horus’s forces find them, they will be wiped out, and the Warrant will be destroyed…’ His lip trembled. ‘If it has not already been.’ Eurotas looked up. ‘The Warrant is on the planet Dagonet.’

Finally. The answer. For a long moment, Spear considered breaking out of Hyssos’s restrictive body and reverting back to his kill-form, just to show Eurotas what sort of fool he was the instant before he ripped him to shreds; but instead he let the rage ebb and gave a sullen nod. ‘I will need a ship, then. The fastest cutter available.’

‘You cannot go to Dagonet!’ Eurotas insisted. ‘The government there has already declared for the Warmaster! There is word that the Sons of Horus are on their way to the planet at this very moment… It’s suicide! I won’t allow it.’

Spear twisted his proxy flesh into a sorrowful smile, and gave a shallow bow. ‘I swear to you I will recover the Warrant, my lord. As of this moment, my life has no other purpose.’

At length, the nobleman nodded. ‘Very well. And may the Emperor protect you.’

‘We can but hope,’ he replied.

THIRTEEN Faith or Duty / Bonded / The Warrant

1

The summons came from the Vindicare, and so Iota joined Kell and the rest of the Execution Force in one of several storage rooms down in the web of caves, away from the more heavily-populated sections of the hideaway. The room smelled of promethium; drums of the liquid fuel were stacked to the ceiling in corners, and the air circulation system worked in fits and starts.