Shadows of Treachery by C. Z. Dunn

Author:C. Z. Dunn [Dunn, C. Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781849701952
Publisher: The Black Library
Published: 2012-08-31T23:00:00+00:00

Raven's Flight

Gav Thorpe

A bloodstained hurricane swept across a desolate hillside, its furious roar a hundred thousand throats crying out in anger and agony. Crimson winds turned to a raging inferno, setting all ablaze. The sky burned and a multitude of dark shapes flocked into the air, their wings alight, sparks trailing from their dark feathers. Dying shouts became the cawing of ravens, a rising cacophony that drowned out the wail of the storm.

Sweat soaked, heart hammering, Marcus Valerius broke from his torment with a scream stifled on his lips. Blood and fire. Always the same. Fire and blood. He pulled aside the sodden blanket, the recycled air of Deliverance drying his lips, crusting the salt on his brow. Valerius coughed and rubbed at his eyes as dim raven shapes danced in the shadows of his gloomy quarters. A faint echo of that desperate roaring rebounded from the bare metal walls, taunting him.

Trembling, Valerius pushed himself from his bed and fumbled his way into the shower alcove. He pulled the brass-ringed chain and tepid water flowed over him, washing away his fatigue. He quickly scrubbed at his flesh with a rough flannel and massaged the water into his curled brown hair. Like most things on Deliverance, water was closely rationed. After his allotted forty-five seconds the stream stopped. Valerius skirted with the idea of using his second daily allotment but dismissed the notion. After a day in the stifling air of Deliverance’s artificial habitat his evening shower was essential in washing away the filth of the day. It was impossible for him to sleep without it.

Not that sleep had come so easy these past days. Every night for seven nights the dream had tortured him. Blood and fire, fire and blood, and a host of ravens crying out in pain.

Mind still occupied by these disturbing thoughts, Valerius rubbed a hand across his narrow chin, feeling stubble on his fingertips. He took a deep bowl and filled it from the waste water of the shower, placing it on a shelf beneath the small mirror fixed to the wall. He looked at his red-rimmed eyes and the lines on his young cheeks. It did not look like the face of a man not long past the thirtieth anniversary of his birth. The past seven days had taken more of a toll than fourteen years of fighting; first against the orks on Therion and then as part of the great army of the Emperor alongside the Space Marines of the Raven Guard Legion. He had slept more easily on a drop-ship as it crashed down towards a world that had refused Enlightenment; he had spent nights in foetid swamps in more comfort than he had found in his own bed of late.

Valerius stropped his straight razor and drew it carefully down his cheeks, calmed by the motion. He paid particular attention to his thin moustache, carefully trimming just above his top lip. He took pride in his facial hair, a testament to his upbringing

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