Warhammer 40k - Anthology by Bringers of Death # Marc Gascoigne

Author:Bringers of Death # Marc Gascoigne
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-01T13:43:11+00:00

‘And why aren’t we still in the square back there, picking over the greenskins as the bombardment came in on top of us?’ Costes asked. ‘You may not have had much use for things you can’t record in your guild’s ledgers, but you’re not in Primax now, you-‘

‘I agree with Massau.’ Heads turned sharply. Brael was standing over them. He had been listening, unseen, from a short way off. ‘We make our own luck by keeping our eyes and ears open for things that might kill us…’ He surveyed his men, their faces painted by the firelight.

‘And then make sure we kill them first.’ The men laughed and nodded. Brael noticed that Massau had missed the point; the Primaxian wore a self-satisfied expression, sure that Brael had proven his argument for him. All Brael cared about was making sure that his men aimed their hatred at the greenskins, not at each other.

He moved away from the fire. Looking up through the trees, he saw that the sky was almost cloudless, the stars as bright as gems. It reminded him of a similar night, a year ago. But he forced himself to think ahead to the route they should take to catch the rest of the army.

It would be so easy to think of Vika and Bron, to imagine how their lives had been since he set them upon an iron caravan’s open wagon and waved to them as they pulled away. It would be so easy to imagine how it would feel when he saw them again, among the crowds of people who will have gathered behind Mallax’s high walls by the time Brael and his men arrive.

If only he had not woken, less than a month after their departure, gripped by the sure and certain knowledge that they were dead.

Dawn had begun to tint the sky when the remains of the fire were kicked over and the men moved down to the riverbank. The water rose to mid-chest and ran quickly and forcefully over slick, rounded rocks. Vikor found the noise of its passage oddly soothing - a reminder of the natural world, after the overwhelming noise of the greenskins’ infernal machines. Invisible among the treetops, birds began to sing their greeting to the new day.

They moved carefully across the river, holding their powder pouches overhead as they felt their way around the largest of the riverbed rocks with their toes. Brael was first across, half-sliding down the steep bank into the icy water, pushing through the stiff reeds and then fighting to hold his balance against the strong current, all the while feeling his way with the toe of his boot as the water rose to chest height before the riverbed at last began to rise towards the gentler, less reed-clogged opposite bank.

On the far side, Brael secured a line around the nearest tree and threw it back to Kobar, who was waiting waist-deep in the water. He and the rest of the men used the line to help maintain their balance against the force of the river.

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