Salamander by me

Author:me
Format: epub

CHAPTER SEVEN

I

Besieged

Billowing ash clouds were dissipating slowly on the grey horizon. It was the last evidence of N’keln’s muster from the Salamanders’ encampment. Brother Argos had managed to release the land vehicles from the hold of the Vulkan’s Wrath. N’keln had taken the Land Raider, Fire Anvil, with the Firedrakes, his Inferno Guard and Chaplain Elysius aboard. Even Fugis made the journey. The Apothecary had considered staying behind to tend the wounded, but his place was by N’keln’s side and his brothers would likely need him in the coming battle against the Iron Warriors, so he had ventured back to the front line for the first time since Stratos. The rest of the Salamanders’ vehicles comprised four Rhino APCs that conveyed all three squads of Devastators and Brother-Sergeant Clovius’ Tactical squad. The captain had selected his task force according to firepower. He intended to breach the fortress walls at distance, rather than storm them. Devastators were well suited to that task, and since Clovius boasted both missile launcher and plasma gun in his ranks, he was an ideal fourth squad choice and occupied the remaining Rhino.

Vargo and his Assault squad were the final element to the task force. His troops would make their way on foot, using bursts from their jump packs to keep pace. Once the walls were breached, Brother-Sergeant Vargo and his troops could quickly exploit the gap. Dak’ir was left back to maintain vigil over the encampment. Though he would rather have joined the task force, he knew his duty and respected the will of his captain. The other squads continued with their rotational duties of excavating the Vulkan’s Wrath, guarding the medical tents and searching for survivors. Naveem’s old squad spent most of its time within the battered confines of the ship, opening up sealed areas and exhuming the dead from their metal, airlocked tombs. Brother Gannon had taken temporary charge, though he was untested as a sergeant. Agatone was content to remain behind. There were the observances of ritual cremation to be conducted for Vah’lek, and he was keen to be present for them. These thoughts tumbled through Dak’ir’s mind like flakes of ash drifting from the far off peaks of Scoria’s volcanoes. As he stared into the grey void, the vista before him seemed to blend and shift…

…once distant mountains loomed suddenly large and immediate, arching over Dak’ir’s head

like crooked fingers until they touched and formed a canopy of rock. Ash, so ubiquitous before,

drained away as if escaping through the cracks of the world to flee certain doom, and left solid rock

beneath Dak’ir’s feet. He was in a cave. It reminded him of Ignea. A tunnel led down, down into the

heart of Scoria where promised fire lurked, flickering against the walls like dancing, red spectres.

They took him deep, these imagined apparitions, to the nadir of the earth where lava ran thick in

streams and shimmered with lustrous heat. Pools of liquid fire threw murky, joyless light that

seemed to cling and conspire instead of illuminate. And

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