Wolfblade (Space Wolves Book 4) by William King

Author:William King [King, William]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2011-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ragnar lay in his chamber in the palace and stared at the ceiling. He could not help but notice the elaborate plaster patterns there, complex swirls of leaves and coins forming what he thought was the star pattern over Fenris. He would have much preferred the actual stars himself, but it seemed no one was consulting him.

Gravity tugged at him again, and the air held the distinctive tang of Old Earth. He considered it. This was air that had been breathed a billion, billion, billion times. It was tainted with the dust of ages. The weight of the buildings around him appeared incredible and oppressive. He realised that this palace was older even than the Fang. Yet the Fang was a solitary miracle, a huge base hidden in a gigantic mountain that was one of the wonders of the galaxy. This palace was surrounded by buildings just as old and situated atop layers of buildings even more ancient. He had heard it said that all the ancient civilisations of Earth could be found here still, buried in layers. And if you dug deep enough you would find the remains of even such legendary ancient places as Atalantys and Nova Yoruk. It certainly seemed possible.

A strange languor filled him. The events of the previous day could have happened to someone else in a different lifetime. The thick pile carpet, the heavy wooden furniture, and the ancient works of art conspired to make his memory of the battle dream-like. Such things could not happen here, they whispered. Everything was too ancient, too civilised, too comfortable.

He forced himself upright. That was an illusion, he knew. Many many times, the streets and warrens of old Terra had run with blood. No doubt battles had been fought within the walls of this very palace. Certainly there must have been killings, and stealthy murders a plenty.

Someone knocked on the door. The scent told him who it was before he said: ‘Enter.’

‘Greetings, Ragnar of Fenris.’

‘Greetings, Gabriella of Belisarius. What brings you here?’

She paused for a moment. ‘I wanted to see how you were finding things here.’ Ragnar rose from the pallet and moved across the room towards the food on the table. It was simple Fenrisian fare.

‘Strange,’ he answered truthfully. ‘Not what I expected.’

‘What did you expect?’

‘Holiness. Sanctity. The radiant presence of the Emperor.’

‘You will find all of those on Terra, though not in the Houses of the Navigators. Our religion is commerce. For us gold has a sanctity all of its own.’

Ragnar knew he should have been shocked to hear such words spoken but he was not. They echoed only too well what he thought himself. ‘You sound as if you do not approve.’

It was her turn to smile. ‘I fear I have spent too much time among the stalwart warriors of Fenris. It may take me a little time to get used to being back here.’

‘You’d better not take too long,’ said Ragnar. ‘It might prove fatal.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That is the hard part.

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