The Rose in Darkness by Danie Ware

Author:Danie Ware
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-07T12:14:03+00:00

xiv

THE FORGE OF SIN

With the festival’s filth streaming downwards past their boots, the Sisters’ advance continued. Sealed in power armour, they were protected from the waste and the stench, but the Blades were not so fortunate. Many were already struggling, green in the face. Several had fallen, getting sewage in their ears and noses. Tamas, the commander, was staying strong, though his skin was ash-pale in the gleam of Augusta’s suit-light.

‘We will continue,’ he assured her, as she glanced back. ‘We carry Opal’s pride with us, and we will not slow you down.’

She gave him a curt, faceless nod, and they went on. Prayers and grumbles spread out across the vox.

Past the nexus, the tunnels began to sprawl, and the line spread back to its extended formation. Echoing laughter began to follow them, vox-cast from who knew where. Expecting the ambush at any moment, Augusta kept tense hands on her bolter, her eyes on the gleam of the hololith, still gliding over the walls.

‘Movement! Tamas, to your right!’ said Caia.

She was a moment too late. Two perfectly timed attacks hit the skirmishing streetrunners. Augusta did not see them, but she heard the sounds. They were ranged more loosely, checking the sealed dead ends, and they came on in echoes, in cries and shouts and las-fire. Unable to reach the ambushed soldiers, Augusta and Tamas held their position. The commander barked orders to relay along the lines. He was surprisingly able to think on his feet, and she raised the sacred hymnal, echoing out through the stone.

But still, the damage was being done. Voices cursed and shouted and cried. Soldiers sobbed in pain or horror. Those around Augusta tensed, Tamas included. She understood their frustration at their own helplessness, and prayed for their nerve to hold.

They heard screams, splashes, struggles, cries. Barks of half-panicked orders.

‘By the saint,’ one voice muttered, just behind her.

‘Steady,’ Tamas said. ‘Hold your place.’

‘But, sir–’

‘You are in His light, and you perform His duty.’ Augusta’s voice was flat. ‘Stay where you are.’

In the dark, rank tunnel, they could only listen.

The Sister Superior heard the rallying cries, heard the soldiers gather their courage and fight back. In the vox, they raised His name, cried prayers to the Thousand Humble, to Saint Zalan, to Veres and the Three Martyrs. They fought for their world with genuine, fierce courage. There was no way to treat or retrieve their injured, and the instant infection would be gruesome, Augusta knew – yet still, they did not falter.

At last, Tamas said, ‘In His name, the streetrunners are victorious.’ He was panting, though whether from exhaustion or stress, Augusta did not know. ‘We will continue.’ His every word ached with what had just happened. ‘What of our injured?’

‘If they can walk, they may retreat back to the entry point,’ Augusta said. ‘But if they cannot, do not spare uninjured warriors to carry them. Grant them His final blessing and we will celebrate their martyrdom at the proper time. For now, we will hold the line and advance.

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