[Soul Drinkers 01] Soul Drinker by Ben Counter

Author:Ben Counter
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction. warhammer 40000
ISBN: 9781844161621
Publisher: BL Publishing
Published: 2005-04-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Master Gorgoleon adhered to one rule in war: the rule of despair If an enemy despairs, if he does not believe there is any hope left, if he has seen his comrades dead and maimed by the hand of invincible foes, he has lost. When he is in such a state he cannot resist - whether he is to be captured or killed, or merely broken, there is nothing he can do. Battles are won when one side is rendered incapable of fighting, and that is best achieved by the massive and unrelenting infliction of despair. This was one of Daenyathos's prime tenets for the conduct of war, and it was one Gorgoleon had turned into a science. It was why he was Chapter Master. It was why he so rarely failed.

Despair was usually created by inflicting fatal or mutilating damage on an enemy, but there were other ways. That was why the walls of his private chambers had been stripped out and replaced with carved marble slabs depicting his life as a warrior - here he was, kneeling on a pile of the dead, back-to-back with the long-dead Chaplain Surrian as the pulse shots blazed down at him. Here he strode into the halls of the Archfoul and looked it in the eye as bolter-fire poured into its corrupt flesh. Again, in the jungles of Actium, and again, in the shattered streets of Helsreach. Gorgoleon's entire chanson had been carved out here, an epic of his life chiselled into the stone.

He didn't really care for it personally. There had been careers more glorious than his in the long history of the Soul Drinkers, and he needed no picture-book to remember it all. But it inspired a measure of awe in those who saw it and, in the right circumstances, he had hoped it would inspire despair.

A servitor shuffled along the long gallery that led to Gorgoleon's chambers, past the carvings of his early heroics. 'The shuttle approaches.' it said in it's the thin, feeble voice. The servitor had once been a Chapter serf, who had become too aged and decrepit to be of further use and had been rebuilt as Gorgoleon's personal valet. Gorgoleon took pains to make the menials in his presence especially wretched.

'Convey permission to board the Glory. Have Sarpedon leave his escort squad in the shuttle bay and send him to my presence immediately. Ensure he is not rested or fed.'

'Yes, Lord Gorgoleon.' lisped the wizened servitor, and limped off across the gilded tiles of the chamber.

Gorgoleon settled his armoured bulk into the ivory chair. Pict-slates set into the hardwood of his desk flashed images of Sarpedon and the officers now apparently under his command. He called up the Chapter command citations from Quixian Obscura, Karlaster Bridge and the Haemon Forest. Sarpedon had turned battles, buying time when all was lost, sowing confusion to crack open impenetrable positions. Gorgoleon switched to a list of active commands. There was only one - Van Skorvold Star Fort, joint command with Caeon.

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