Galaxy in Flames by Ben Counter Read Free Book Online

it.’
    ‘I’m beginning to wonder myself,’ agreed Kharn. ‘It’s changing,’ continued Loken, ‘the galaxy, and the Crusade with it.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Kharn with relish. ‘It is.’
    Loken was about to ask Kharn what he meant when the doors to the Lupercal’s Court swung open.
    ‘Evidently the Warmaster’s conclave will begin soon,’ said Kharn, bowing before them both. ‘It is time for me to rejoin my primarch.’
    ‘And we must join the Warmaster,’ said Loken. ‘Perhaps we will see you on Isstvan III?’
    ‘Perhaps,’ nodded Kharn, walking off between the spoils of a hundred wars. ‘If there’s anything left of Isstvan III when the World Eaters finish with it.’

THREE
    Horus enthroned
    The saint is in danger
    Isstvan III
    L UPERCAL ’ S C OURT WAS a new addition to the Vengeful Spirit . Previously the Warmaster had held briefings and planning sessions on the strategium, but it had been decided that he needed somewhere grander to hold court. Designed by Peeter Egon Momus, it had been artfully constructed to place the Warmaster in a setting more suited to his position as the leader of the Great Crusade and present him as the first among equals to his fellow commanders.
    Vast banners hung from the sides of the room, most belonging to the Legion’s battle companies, though there were a few that Loken didn’t recognize. He saw one with a throne of skulls set against a tower of brass rising from a blood-red sea and another with an eight-pointed black star shining in a white sky. The meaning of such obscure symbols confounded Loken, but he assumed that they represented the warrior lodge that had become integral to the Legion.
    Greater than all the majesty designed by the architect designate, was the Primarch of the Sons of Horus himself, enthroned before them on a great basalt throne. Abaddon and Aximand stood to one side. Both warriors were armoured, Abaddon in the glossy black of the Justaerin, Aximand in his pale green plate.
    The two officers glared at Loken and Torgaddon – the enmity that had grown between them during the Auretian campaign too great to hide any more. As he met Abaddon’s flinty gaze, Loken felt great sadness as he realized that the glorious ideal of the Mournival was finally and irrevocably dead. None of them spoke as Loken and Torgaddon took their places on the other side of the Warmaster.
    Loken had stood with these warriors and sworn an oath by the light of a reflected moon on a planet the inhabitants called Terra, to counsel the Warmaster and preserve the soul of the Legion.
    That felt like a very long time ago.
    ‘Loken, Torgaddon,’ said Horus, and even after all that had happened, Loken felt honored to be so addressed. ‘Your role here is simply to observe and remind our Legion brothers of the solidity of our cause. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes, my Warmaster,’ said Torgaddon.
    ‘Loken?’ asked the Warmaster.
    Loken nodded and took his allotted position. ‘Yes, Warmaster.’
    He felt the Warmaster’s penetrating eyes boring into him, but kept his gaze fixed firmly on the arches that led into the Lupercal’s Court as the doors beneath one of them slid open. The tramp of feet sounded and a blood-red angel of death emerged from the shadows.
    Loken had seen the primarch of the World Eaters before, but was still awed by his monstrous, physical presence. Angron was huge, easily as tall as the Warmaster, but also massively broad, with wide hulking shoulders like some enormous beast of burden. His face was scarred and violent, his eyes buried deep in folds of angry red scar tissue. Ugly cortical implants jutted from his scalp, connected to the collar of his armour by ribbed cables. The primarch’s armour was ancient and bronze, like that of a feral world god, with heavy metal plates over mail and twin chainaxes strapped to his back. Loken had heard that Angron had once been a slave before the Emperor had found him, and that his masters had forced the implants on him