Flesh Tearers by Andy Smillie

Author:Andy Smillie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2023-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

THE TRIAL OF GABRIEL SETH,

ACT I

Gabriel Seth prepared himself for death, and stepped forwards.

The Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers entered the Forum Judicium and took his place at its centre. Shrouded in the depths of Baal, the chamber had remained unchanged from the day it had been carved into the rock. A vast elliptical space, it was reminiscent of the grand amphitheatres of ancient Terra. Towering rows of superimposed arcades formed the bulk of the structure, with each of the arches supported by a pair of Ionic columns. Angled buttresses carved in the likeness of Sanguinius provided further support and served as a reminder that it was his strength, his blood, upon which all undertakings were built. Higher up, held suspended in the space below the ceiling, a golden statue of the Emperor gazed down in silent observation.

‘I have not come here for your judgement.’

Standing beneath each of the arches was a Chapter Master. Each was a son of Sanguinius charged with commanding a Chapter of the Blood. A sea of red armour cast in every shade and hue, some rich like fresh-spilled blood, others ruby or swept through with crimson. Still others were clad in darkened scabs, the colour of scorched blood or the black of the curse. Seth cast his gaze over the assembled Chapter Masters, and found no friends among them. Their jaws were set like iron and their eyes carried the threat of violence. Seth felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth, amused by the challenge inherent in their damning stares. ‘I am not here for your help.’ He spat the word, his eyes narrowing to slits. Whether any of them would act as a brother and not as a juror remained to be seen.

It was a rare and dangerous occurrence for so many Chapter Masters to gather in one location. Yet duty and blood demanded the risk be taken. The Judicium was no simple court. It existed only to arbitrate in the direst of circumstances. In such times the scions of Sanguinius were called upon to lend their voice to the shape of history, to stand and make a choice. More than once Seth had stood with the others, passing sentence on the future. A surge of guilt quickened his heart as he remembered the consequences of such occasions. Some decrees, some judgements when passed, were like the pulling of a trigger. They could not be undone.

‘I have come here in sacrifice alone.’ Seth upturned his eviscerator and planted it in the red rock of the ground. The weapon’s ragged teeth were caked in gore.

A ripple of disapproving murmurs echoed around the chamber.

Like his blade, death clung to Seth like a badge of honour. His armour was rent and scarred from recent conflict. His cloak was torn and stained by foul ichor. A fresh scar sat atop his brow. Another bisected his left eye. ‘You may damn me. You may swallow up my name in secrecy and remove my deeds from the histories of the Imperium.

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