Void King (Warhammer 40,000) by Marc Collins

Author:Marc Collins [Collins, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Weight of Decisions

‘The mission was, all things considered, a resounding success.’ Erastus poured a generous amount of wine into the goblet, swirled it lightly under his nose, and then sipped it thoughtfully. The bouquet was rich, spiced, and it warmed the tongue quite admirably. He savoured it, before replacing it on the lacquered surface of the table. ‘The crew were adequate, though the next time a more ostentatious ship wouldn’t go amiss. Appearance matters, after all.’

‘You were given what was required.’ Davos leant forward, resting his chin on his hands as he watched Erastus’ indulgence. ‘You know I do not approve of your…’ He waved a hand in the air as he sought the word.

‘My?’

‘Indulgences.’ Davos scoffed at the very mention of the word. ‘You are a son of a noble lineage. Our mastery of voidcraft hearkens all the way back to the clans of Jupiter. Your ancestors knew service at the very birth of the Imperium, and that is where our legend was forged.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Erastus sighed. ‘In fire and blood and fury. At the point of a sword and the end of a gunsight. You’ve told me a thousand times.’

‘Because you do not listen!’ Davos snapped. ‘Silks and airs, as though you were a common merchant!’

‘It is a Warrant of Trade, after all.’

‘Do not be smart with me, boy.’ Davos glowered at his son as he rose from behind the desk. There was fire in him; the burning vitality of a man who had waged war his entire life. Who had stood in judgement over civilisations. ‘The worlds I send you to might be charmed by you, my son, but I am beyond such things.’

‘You do not have to remind me, Father.’

‘Oh, but I do.’ The old man laughed, brushing his hands down the front of his crisp blue uniform. ‘You have done well, I will give you that, but you must understand one thing. There will come many days when all your pretty words cannot save you. You will stand before them, and they shall count for nothing.’ He shook his head slowly and placed a hand upon Erastus’ shoulder. The affection of it seemed strange, alien. A gesture atrophied through lack of use, and lack of care.

‘What would you have me do then?’ Erastus asked. He tried to keep his manner steady, but he knew his voice was as plaintive as his eyes. He had done much, sacrificed much, for even the smallest of gestures of favour. Evelyne was gone, elsewhere. She was burning the frontier to make the old man smile. He hoped she was well. That she was, in her way, happy.

‘I would have you hone every part of you,’ Davos said. ‘You are a man of the name and lineage Lamertine. You are my son, such as you are. When you are ready, I am sure you will rise to the task. You must be as much a blade as you are a man of confidence.’ He paused, weighing his own words.

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