Pawns of Chaos (Warhammer 40,000) by Brian Craig

Author:Brian Craig [Craig, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, pdf
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2013-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

‘Can you ride?’

Dathan blinked at the unexpected question. ‘I’ve ridden a horse, sir,’ he said, wondering whether he ought to admit that he had only ridden a very slow horse at a very moderate pace, and not very often. He also wondered whether it was adequate to address a man as powerful as Gavalon as ‘sir’ – but he had never been told the proper way to address a sorcerer, let alone the supreme head of all the covens in Gulzacandra. Mercifully, Nimian’s finger still seemed to be exerting its benign influence over him, maintaining his equilibrium far better than he could have maintained it himself.

‘Good,’ said Gavalon. ‘I need to get to the Vessel as soon as possible. Our attempts to delay Fulbra and string out his forces have failed miserably. His engineers are too good – rivers, ditches and burning fields can’t make significant obstacles, and our fighting-men can’t get to close quarters with his unless they can find a better way to stop his trucks. It would be a dire irony if the outcome of this conflict were to be settled by the number of spare tyres he’s carrying and the speed with which they can be changed. You’ll have to show me where this wretched farmhouse is. My beastmen can follow at their own pace, but I need to get Sathorael to understand what is required of him, as soon as he’s able to listen.’

‘I’ll do my best, sir,’ Dathan promised.

He began to regret this promise as soon as he saw the mounts that Gavalon’s servants had prepared. There were four in all; although Gavalon was prepared to hurry ahead of his retinue of beastmen he was compensating for their temporary loss by taking two of his thrall-wizards, Abdalkuri and Maldayak. The steeds were definitely horses, but they were coloured far more garishly than any horses Dathan had ever seen, orange and kingfisher-blue being the predominant colours, and their heads were elaborately horned. Their tails were not made of ordinary horsehair, being more like rats’ tails, and their unshod hooves were massive. The saddles and bridles with which they were fitted were conventional enough, but they had no bits in their mouths. They seemed as bizarre to Dathan as the thrall-wizards, whose faces were scarred and painted, and whose leathery armour was brightly striped in red, yellow and green.

‘Don’t worry, Dathan,’ Gavalon said, when he took note of the boy’s anxiety. ‘They’re more amenable than they seem, and more intelligent than any animal you’ve ever encountered. Once constrained to obey you, this kind of steed will serve you very well.’

Dathan hesitated again when the time came to mount. He was thirty centimetres shorter than the least of his companions and the stirrup seemed impossibly high – but one of Gavalon’s beastmen came forward to make a step with his huge hands, and Dathan managed to scramble into the saddle.

I have monsters to wait on me now! he thought. Yesterday I was no one, but today I

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