Nemesis

trailing streamers of vapour from atmospheric re-entry. Whoever it was that Kell’s

kill-shot had executed, the Warmaster’s warriors were coming in force to avenge

him.

203

When he was sure the Stormbird was gone, Kell backed off and then ran at the

hole in the wall. He threw himself into the air and felt the rush of the wind as gravity

claimed his body. For agonising seconds, the streets below rose up towards him; then

there was a sharp jerk across his shoulders as the sensors in the descent pack

triggered the release of the parafoil across his back. The iridescent curve of ballistic

cloth billowed open and his fall slowed.

Kell dropped into the sounds of terror and violence, searching for an escape.

Every deck of the Vengeful Spirit shook with barely-restrained violence as drop-ship

after drop-ship rocketed off the launch decks. They streamed away from the

battleship in a long, unbroken chain, lethal carrion birds wheeling and turning in

towards the surface of Dagonet, carrying fury with them.

Nearby, system boats in service to the PDF’s space division were either turning to

flee from the ships of the Warmaster’s fleet, or else they were already sinking into

their home world’s gravity well as flames crawled down the length of them. The

Vengeful Spirit’s gunnery crews had been sparing with the use of their megalaser

batteries, striking the ships hard enough to cripple them but not enough to obliterate

them. Now the PDF cruisers would burn up in the atmosphere, and the fires of their

deaths would be seen the whole planet over. It was a most effective way to begin a

punishment.

The Vengeful Spirit and the rest of her flotilla encroached slowly on Dagonet’s

orbital space, approaching the staging point where Luc Sedirae’s vessel, the Thanato,

was waiting for them. Most of the Thanato’s complement of drop-ships had already

been deployed, the men of the 13th Company falling onto the capital city in a tide of

unfettered rage. The handsome and ruthless master of the 13th was beloved of his

warriors; and they would avenge him with nothing less than rivers of blood.

The tall viewing windows of the Lupercal’s Court looked out over the bow of the

Vengeful Spirit, the curve of Dagonet and the lone Thanato laid out before it.

Maloghurst left the Warmaster where he stood at the windows and crossed the

strategium towards the corridor outside. As he walked, he spoke in low tones to the

troupe of chapter serfs who followed him everywhere he went. The equerry parsed

Horus’ commands to his underlings and they in turn moved away to carry those

orders about the fleet.

Beyond the doorway there was a shadow. “Equerry,” it said.

“First Chaplain,” Maloghurst replied. His disfigured face turned its perpetual

scowl at the Word Bearer, dismissing the rest of the serfs with a flick of his clawed

hand. “Do you wish to speak with me, Erebus? I had been told you were engaged in

your… meditations.”

Erebus did not appear to notice the mocking tone Maloghurst placed on his

question. “I was disturbed.”

“By what?”

The Word Bearer’s face split in a thin smile. “A voice in the darkness.” Before

Maloghurst could demand a less obtuse answer, Erebus nodded towards the far end

of the chamber, where Horus stood observing the motions of his fleet.

The lord of the Legion was magnificent in his full battle gear, his armour striped

with shining gold and dark brass, hides of great beasts lying off his shoulder in a

204

half-cloak. His face was hidden in the gloom, highlights made barely visible by the

cold glow of the data consoles before him.

“I would ask a question of the Warmaster,” said the other Astartes.

Maloghurst did not move. “You may ask me.”

“As you wish.” Erebus’ lip curled slightly. “We are suddenly at battle alert status.

It was my understanding we were coming to this world to show the flag in passing,

and little more.”

“You haven’t heard?” Maloghurst feigned surprise, amused that for a change he

knew something the Word Bearer did not. “Brother-Captain Sedirae was given the

honour of standing as the Warmaster’s proxy on Dagonet. But there was an…

incident. A trap, I believe. Sedirae was killed.”

Erebus’ typically insouciant expression shaded dark for a moment. “How did this

happen?”

“That will be determined, in due time. For the moment, it is clear that the

assurances claiming Dagonet City as a secure location were false. Through either

subterfuge or inadequacy on the part of Dagonet’s ruling cadres, a Son of Horus lost

his life down there.” Maloghurst inclined his head towards the Warmaster. “Horus

has demanded reciprocity.”

“The nobles will die, then?” The equerry nodded. “To begin with.” Erebus was

silent for a few seconds. “Why was Sedirae sent?”

“Are you questioning the orders of the Warmaster?”

“I only seek to understand—” Erebus trailed off as Maloghurst took a step