The Kauyon by Andy Smillie

Author:Andy Smillie [Smillie, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Black Library
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

EARLIER

The Chamber of Bonding was lit by a single brazier, an echo of the flame that burned in the breast of all the fire caste. Situated in the very centre of the chamber, its glow cast spectral faces across the rock of the walls and reached as far as the low ceiling.

‘It is smaller than I had imagined,’ said Or’sha.

Kal’va nodded, but said nothing. Like Or’sha, he had not set foot on a sept world since taking up a weapon. The rough-hewn, brutal cavern was in stark contrast to the clean lines and smooth decking of the warships on which he had spent his life. Breathing deeply, he filled his lungs with the thick incense that swam in the air.

‘We stand on honoured Vior’la, on the earth that birthed the warrior caste. We walk amongst the ghosts of heroes. What we do now, we do not do lightly.’ Sas’la paused a moment to let the weight of his words settle. ‘Come.’

As was his right, Sasl’a walked ahead of Kal’va and Or’sha, leading them down through the cavern and up onto the Eternal Circle. Carved into a raised dais of rock hundreds of years before, the circle had the same dimensions as the ones Kal’va had seen etched into the ceremonial hangars of the warships he’d served aboard. It was the focal point for all bonding rituals, a reminder that a warrior’s spirit had no beginning and no end.

‘Only in fire can a weapon be forged.’

Sas’la crossed into the centre of the circle and tugged on a length of brass chain connected to the brazier. The action opened a small shutter set into the brazier’s base, allowing a single ember to fall to the ground.

The errant flame ignited the oil that pooled in the recessed outline of the Eternal Circle.

Kal’va stepped over the flames, welcoming the heat, and knelt together with Sas’la and Or’sha. As was tradition, the three sat equidistant from one another, formed as a targeting triangle set within the circle of a rifle’s scope.

‘Ancestors bear witness. Auns honour our vow.’ Sas’la gestured for them to begin, and the three bowed to one another before unsheathing their bonding knives. ‘My life is your life, and your life is my life.’

Kal’va drew his knife across his chest, cutting a deep gash across his heart. Breathing through the pain, he passed his blade to Sas’la as the shas’ui gave his to Or’sha.

‘My strength is your strength, and your strength is my strength,’ intoned Or’sha. With Or’sha’s knife, Kal’va cut into his bicep, drawing the blade down his forearm. The pain was intense but honour demanded silence.

‘My path is your path, and your path is my path,’ he said. He took Sas’la’s knife and made the final mark, a thin line across his forehead. He could feel his rising pulse beating in his neck, its thrum threatening to overwhelm him. Accepting his own blade from Or’sha, he slashed his palm, clenching his fist to squeeze three drops of blood onto the ground.

‘With blood we strengthen the circle and our bond with those who have bled before us,’ said Sas’la.

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