Lorgar: Bearer of the Word (The Horus Heresy Primarchs Book 5) by Gav Thorpe

Author:Gav Thorpe [Thorpe, Gav]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 2017-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

After Monarchia

963.M30

The Fidelitas Lex, Over Khur

Before he even set foot inside the chamber of his primarch Kor Phaeron could smell the stench of sweat, burned flesh and pungent blood through the swirl of spicy incense. The crack of a flail startled the Keeper of Faith and he stepped swiftly inside.

Lorgar sat cross-legged upon the bare floor, a seven-tailed scourge in one hand. His other lay in his lap, as though in quiet repose. With serpent-quick vehemence the primarch lashed the scourge across his shoulder and back, laying the knotted tails upon his flesh with a drawn-out slap. The blow would have crippled lesser beings but the primarch’s only reaction was a twitch of the lip.

Through a layered daub of grey ash his skin was in tatters. A remarkably disturbing achievement given his Emperor-gifted physiology. Testament to the viciousness and persistence of Lorgar’s self-flagellation for the last three days.

At his side was a gold-rimmed bowl of white clay – a font from one of the many chapels of the Fidelitas Lex. Within the metre-broad dish were ashes and charred remnants. Lorgar noticed the perplexed look of the Keeper of Faith.

‘All that is left of proud Monarchia,’ the primarch said quietly, his expression haunted. He dipped his hand into the ashen mess and let pieces fall through his fingers. ‘Buildings. People. A lifetime of endeavour. My foolish pride.’

‘None should be prouder,’ declared Kor Phaeron. The door whispered shut behind him. He spied a brazier in the adjoining room, its coals now embers, the heat of it glimmering on the wall where a tapestry of the Emperor had once hung, now torn down to reveal bare wall.

In the brazier he saw several irons, their heads shaped as the various runes of Colchis – sigils Lorgar himself had created to represent the new faith he had ushered in. Signs of the One, of the Truth and the Word.

He saw burn marks upon the flesh of Lorgar, branding fit for a sternback that would have overcome a mortal with pain.

‘How…?’

‘A servitor of the Mechanicum makes a useful unthinking factotum on occasion. Devoid of conscience, they will happily perform any instruction for days on end. No remorse, no hesitation. An instrument of succour in these dark times.’

It was a delicate moment and Kor Phaeron judged that Lorgar did not need instruction as much as guidance, to be returned to the path he sought. He affected his most fatherly demeanour.

‘You asked for me. You wish to talk, my son?’

‘And Erebus, though I have allowed us a brief time to converse before he arrives. There is a matter that we must discuss and it is not for his ears. Not yet, I would say.’

‘This scourging, it is because of Monarchia,’ said Kor Phaeron. ‘The crime is not yours.’

‘It was and remains so. There is not an accusation levelled against us that we can defend. What we sought to create in purity was a distortion of the Truth. The Emperor cares not for these worlds, save as numbers in a ledger on Terra.

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