The Eternal Crusader - Guy Haley by Warhammer 40K

Author:Warhammer 40K
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781782516439
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2014-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

A Gathering of Brothers

Fergax turned peacefully beneath the ventral weapon mounts of the Eternal Crusader, green and ignorant of the endless wars wracking the heavens. A feral world, innocent in spirit, some might think. The people there lived hard but simple lives, their greatest contribution to the Imperium being a supply of recruits for the Black Templars crusades. The world hosted a Chapter keep; aside from that, the Emperor and all his doings were myths to its inhabitants.

The Chapter anchor at Fergax played host to more brothers of the order than had been gathered simultaneously for two thousand years. The aged castellan, a Space Marine too damaged to fight further, had been extremely relieved when Helbrecht informed him that the Black Templars would not be descending to the surface en masse, but would remain in orbit.

Above the backwater world, more ships had joined the Black Templars fleet: the cruiser Virtue of Kings, commanded by Marshal Amalrich of the Damaris Crusade, and the battle-barge Light of Purity, lead vessel of the Tiberor Crusade under Ricard. Five more escorts came with them to bolster Helbrecht’s destroyer and light cruiser squadrons. Three combined crusades of the Black Templars were, by any measure, a powerful force.

Helbrecht greeted his marshals in person as they arrived on one of the Eternal Crusader’s cavernous embarkation decks. Amalrich landed as Helbrecht, Theoderic and their entourage of honour guard, sergeant-serfs and mortal priests arrived at the deck. Amalrich’s Thunderhawk was as black as interstellar space, its hard angles brightened by the marshal’s personal heraldry.

Amalrich, the younger of the two, strode down the gangplank. Four Sword Brethren of humourless demeanour and a dozen shield-serfs came after him. All looked as if doomsday was upon them, except the marshal himself, who wore a broad smile. He took Helbrecht’s armoured forearm in the warrior’s grasp. ‘Brother Helbrecht! Master of Sanctity Theoderic. How goes the war at Armageddon?’

‘Badly,’ said Helbrecht.

Amalrich pulled a concerned expression tinged with disbelief.

‘I had heard you had destroyed three hulks through boarding actions alone, my liege.’

‘I have,’ said Helbrecht. ‘It is not enough.’

Honking klaxons announced the arrival of Ricard. A serf officer’s warnings echoed over the landed craft arrayed neatly down the length of the deck, the tail end of his orders lost to the scream of engines as Ricard’s Thunderhawk blasted from the launch tubes. Armsmen, deck-serfs and forge thralls marched to their positions, ready to welcome the machine-spirit of the ship. With a wash of acrid exhaust, the ship came to a gentle hover and landed with the clanking of spreading landing claws.

‘I have news, brother!’ shouted Amalrich over the roar of Ricard’s ship. ‘A Champion has arisen.’

‘Truly?’ shouted Helbrecht, although he had no reason to doubt his commander. His reticence came from what the news betokened. His thoughts went to Grimaldus at Helsreach.

‘Yes, my liege! Yes! We have removed our black sword from its stasis field, and begun the rituals of sanctity,’ said Amalrich. Pride was on him like raiment; it was honour for a Champion to arise in his crusade.

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