Dark Imperium: Godblight (Redux) by Guy Haley

Author:Guy Haley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2021-04-13T13:12:38+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

TESTIMONIES

The column of the faithful took the First Landing-Boonswell highway, which ran close by the capital, for it, unlike the hydroways Iax relied on for much of its transport, could accommodate the war train’s majesty. After travelling all afternoon, through the evening and into the dark, they stopped in the ruined town of Argardston, some fifty miles from First Landing, where they passed the night full of the confidence only faith can bring. Joy was on every face, though the rations were poor and death certain at the end of the road. Argardston was entirely deserted, most of it burned to the ground, the whole of the population having relocated to the safety of First Landing. There were few signs of the enemy there, and the damage to the town had been done by the townsfolk themselves, who sought to deny their possessions to the foe.

They rose early, ate in the predawn, and set out again at first light of the sun. To speed their progress, half the pilgrims jogged alongside the Cadian tanks and the Ministorum war train, the other half riding every perch upon the vehicles. They changed over at hourly intervals. Few of them were natural runners, many had lived difficult lives. But the strength of the Emperor ran through them, and they ran with glowing faces, and they did not complain. The Sisters of Battle sang hymns in pure voices that never ceased, but folded one into the other in ever-increasing complexity, while preachers standing atop tanks in pulpits made from empty ammo crates and scrap metal gave fiery sermons as the train’s organ played. In these ways did they maintain their strength, and kept up a steady pace. No sickness troubled them, and none of the enemy appeared to inflict more direct harm. Not in the beginning.

At first, the carefully manicured landscapes of Iax seemed merely troubled, as if by drought or passing pestilence. Wilting forests and agricolae lined the highways, but life prevailed; indeed, there was if anything too much of it, for the fields were choked with weeds that blotted out the light from the crops, the canals thick with algal blooms and the woods were tangles of strangling creepers. These plants had no place on the garden world, and were sinister looking, but were not noticeably unnatural in form, though their nocturnal rustlings had the sentries gripping their lasguns tightly, and the faithful were warned from venturing off the road.

After three days of travelling, they were still within two hundred miles of First Landing, and by then the grip of Nurgle tightened with every league they advanced. By the dawn of the third day, the trees were rotten, pulpy sticks, whose leaves lay black around their roots. The turbulent sky was visible through their black skeletons, and no animals or aviforms called out. Even the creepers succumbed, hanging dead in slimy tangles from their hosts, while the fields of the farms were plains of musty straw. The congregation knew their first

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