Ciaphas Cain: Old Soldiers Never Die (Ciaphas Cain: Warhammer 40,000) by Sandy Mitchell

Author:Sandy Mitchell [Mitchell, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-08-08T00:00:00+00:00

SIX

‘What do you mean he can’t see me?’ I demanded, in my most commissarial manner, and the household trooper barring the corridor leading to Jona’s private apartments quailed visibly. Technically, I suppose, he was a vassal of the governor’s rather than a member of the Imperial military, and beyond my jurisdiction, but in his shoes I wouldn’t have wanted to rely on so minor a distinction either. His face was hidden behind one of those polarised helmet visors, but his posture betrayed his uncertainty, and the ingratiating tone of his voice confirmed it.

‘Governor Worden has given strict instructions not to be disturbed,’ he told me.

‘Then he’s in the wrong job,’ I said, unsympathetically. ‘Where is he?’

I’m not sure if it was the tone of command, my dishevelled appearance, or the odiferous traces of former revenant still bespattering my uniform which decided him, but after a moment’s hesitation his head turned fractionally towards an ornately carved door at the end of the corridor. ‘His chambers,’ he said, reluctantly. ‘But I can’t let you through. My orders…’

‘Would it help if you told him I threatened to shoot you?’ I asked, amiably.

‘It might,’ the guard admitted. ‘But you haven’t.’

‘Because I never make threats,’ I lied shamelessly. ‘Consider it more a point of information.’ And I let my hand drift casually to the laspistol at my belt. If he’d called my bluff, I’m not sure what I would have done, but I’d judged my man well, and after a brief show of hesitation for the record, he stood aside.

I nodded my thanks, and padded up the corridor towards the doorway, my footfalls muffled by a carpet thick enough to have concealed a ratling with a long-las. I considered knocking, but decided against it, as it would give Jona the chance to tell me to frak off, and there was no point in getting into an argument before we’d even come face to face. I’d had enough conflict for one evening already, and was in no mood for more.

As I reached out for the door knob, my boot clattered against something lying on the carpet, and I glanced down to find that I’d just avoided stepping on a laden silver salver. The plate on it was full of something which would have seemed appetising had it not been left to cool and congeal for several hours, thus rendering it quite the opposite, although the dessert, some kind of pastry, had fared a lot better. I frowned. Jona was undoubtedly busy, we all were, but he hadn’t struck me as the kind of man who’d get too distracted to remember to eat.

I tried the door, half expecting it to be locked, but the catch clicked open; it seemed the new governor was getting sufficiently used to his unexpected elevation to expect his minions to do as they were told. Picking up the tray, I walked in, pushing the door closed again behind me with my foot.

I found myself in a large and elegant drawing room, equipped

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