Galaxy in Flames by Ben Counter Read Free Book Online Page A

to turn him into a psychotic killer for their fighting pits. Looking at Angron, Loken could well believe it. Angron’s equerry, Kharn, flanked the terrifying primarch, his expression neutral where his master’s was thunder.
    ‘Horus!’ said Angron, his voice rough and brutal. ‘I see the Warmaster welcomes his brother like a king. Am I your subject now?’
    ‘Angron,’ replied Horus unperturbed, ‘it is good that you could join us.’
    ‘And miss all this prettiness? Not for the world,’ said Angron, his voice loaded with the threat of a smouldering volcano.
    A second delegation arrived through another of the arches, arrayed in the purple and gold of the Emperor’s Children. Led by Eidolon in all his magnificence, a squad of Astartes with glittering swords marched alongside the lord commander, their battle gear as ornate as their leader’s.
    ‘Warmaster, the Lord Fulgrim sends his regards,’ stated Eidolon formally and with great humility. Loken saw that Eidolon had learned the ways of a practiced diplomat since he had last spoken to the Warmaster. ‘He assures you that his task is well under way and that he will join us soon. I speak for him and command the Legion in his stead.’
    Loken’s eyes darted from Angron to Eidolon, seeing the obvious antipathy between the two Legions. The Emperor’s Children and the World Eaters were as different as could be – Angron’s Legion fought and won through raw aggression, while the Emperor’s Children had perfected the art of picking an enemy force apart and destroying it a piece at a time.
    ‘Lord Angron,’ said Eidolon with a bow, ‘it is an honour.’
    Angron did not deign to reply and Loken saw Eidolon stiffen at this insult, but any immediate confrontation was averted as the final delegation to the Warmaster entered the Lupercal’s Court.
    Mortarion, Primarch of the Death Guard was backed by a unit of warriors armoured in the dull gleam of unpainted Terminator plate. Mortarion’s armour was also bare, with the brass skull of the Death Guard on one shoulder guard. His pallid face and scalp were hairless and pocked, his mouth and throat hidden by a heavy collar that hissed spurts of grey steam as he breathed.
    A Death Guard captain marched beside the primarch, and Loken recognised him with a smile. Captain Nathaniel Garro had fought alongside the Sons of Horus in the days when they had been known as the Luna Wolves. The Terran-born captain had won many friends within the Warmaster’s Legion for his unshakeable code of honour and his straightforward, honest manner.
    The Death Guard warrior caught Loken’s gaze and gave a perfunctory nod of greeting.
    ‘With our brother Mortarion,’ said Horus, ‘we are complete.’
    The Warmaster stood and descended from the elevated throne to the centre of the court as the lights dimmed and a glowing globe appeared above him, hovering just below the ceiling.
    ‘This,’ said Horus, ‘is Isstvan III, courtesy of servitor-manned stellar cartography drones. Remember it well, for history will be made here.’
    J ONAH A RUKEN PAUSED in his labours and slipped a small hip flask from beneath his uniform jacket as he checked for anyone watching. The hangar bay was bustling with activity, as it always seemed to be these days, but no one was paying him any attention. The days when an Imperator Titan being made ready for war would pause even the most jaded war maker in his tracks were long past, for there were few here who had not seen the mighty form of the Dies Irae being furnished for battle scores of times already.
    He took a hit from the flask and looked up at the old girl.
    The Titan’s hull was scored and dented with wounds the Mechanicum servitors had not yet had time to patch and Jonah patted the thick plates of her leg armour affectionately.
    ‘Well, old girl,’ he said. ‘You’ve certainly seen some action, but I still love you.’
    He smiled at the thought of a man being in love with a machine, but he’d love