Witchbringer (Warhammer 40,000) by Steven B Fischer

Author:Steven B Fischer [B Fischer, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

A strange nostalgia washed over the Colonel at the sight of Providence’s walls. Strange to think that he had once commanded the guns lining them and the soldiers sheltered behind them. Even now, years later, he recognised each footing and segment of foundation and could picture the convoluted, twisting streets within.

All the easier to raze the city entirely, then.

‘You must understand,’ he said softly to the prisoner beside him. ‘I bear no ill will towards you or your comrades as individuals. Only to the idea that you, as a whole, represent.’

In the mud beside his feet, a Cadian trooper squirmed.

The young man, wearing a simple private’s rank insignia and scarcely old enough to shave, groaned slightly as the Colonel set a mud-caked boot atop his broken ribs. He leaned forward with an unfortunate crack.

‘Quiet,’ Sergeant Gross grumbled at the sudden scream.

The trooper caught his breath in shallow gasps and finally managed to give force to the words he had been mouthing for the last minute.

‘Go to hell,’ he muttered. ‘The Emperor protects.’

The sergeant raised the butt of his lasgun, but the Colonel held up a patient hand. He set his foot back into the shallow puddle of sea water that gathered over the small rise like an oil slick.

‘I thought that once, myself, too, but I learned. The Emperor did a poor job protecting the rest of your squad.’ The Colonel knelt down and grabbed the trooper by the collar, turning his body so he had no option but to stare into the faces of the eight dead men and women lining the small rise beside him. ‘He did a poor job protecting your home world, too.’

Behind him, the crone paced like a caged animal, keeping her distance from the Colonel and his last living prisoner. He’d allowed her the first opportunity to crack the captured squad of Cadians, but after she’d driven two mad with little additional information acquired he had turned to more conventional means. Leave the witch her voices and visions and torments, he needed little more than a boot to extract information.

At the sight of her, the man in the dirt raised a battered arm in a pitiful attempt to make the sign of the aquila.

‘Don’t mind her,’ the Colonel ordered. ‘Her petty gods care no more about you than your Emperor does. Now, show me the access chit for the service corridors.’

This was the problem with gods, whether dark or light. The Colonel did not deny their existence, only their interest in the fleeting, futile striving of their servants. Blood for the Blood God. Change for Tzeentch. But how many more martyrs lay at the feet of the God-Emperor of Mankind, however pure His motives?

Let them wage their petty wars in heaven. Let crusaders, black or light, throw their lives away on behalf of whatever deity or power they chose. Neither great movements nor their deities gave a single thought to the humans dying in agony to sustain them.

So let the gods grapple. Let them tear each other piece from piece.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.