Secret War: Warhammer 40,000 by Ben Agar (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📕

some plan, some knowledge. The idiom 'knowledge is power' is a cliche for a reason, and I'd always adhere to it. Not just because of Glaitis' teachings, but my father also drilled it into me as a boy. Wars were won and lost because of which side had better knowledge. But that was it! I was used to working for the one who knew the most, the one that could out plan and outmanoeuvre everyone, yet here we were, caught on the back foot by someone with not just the better knowledge and planning but the better army, the better everything.

Edracian had outmanoeuvred us, played us like Regicide pieces. He'd driven us to desperation and beyond. We were no longer fighting for any kind of victory anymore but our very survival. There was only one thing we could do, improvise, and it was all up to me, little, exhausted, beaten and battered me.

I'd never had to bear such a burden, such a responsibility before; I'd killed, sure. But I had never made the big decisions. Decisions that truly affected the lives of thousands or hundreds or even dozens of others.

Taking that pict, perhaps, but I was yet to see the consequences of that.

I was going into this now without prior knowledge, without prior planning, without Glaitis' guidance. I doubted that Karmen could help me either. But this is reality; the big decisions are usually made when one has nothing to prepare them for. I finally truly understood what it was to be a Glaitis, a Taryst or even an Edracian.

A leader.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I made it to the steps to the church and began to bound up them, two at a time.

I risked a glance over my shoulder; the daemons were close, no more than six metres behind, but I'd gained ground, much to my surprise.

One jumped, leaping with inhuman strength and flew at me like a bullet. I dived to the side as it smashed into the rockcrete sending bits of rubble showering everywhere and grey dust into the air.

The first came up the stairs punching at me, forcing me to kneel and duck underneath.

I clenched my teeth; I was so close only to be caught and killed now?

They were like a wall as they bounded after me, a wall of snarling, snapping jaws, of countless claws, flying, sweeping and uppercutting at me. I slowed to a crawl as I desperately swayed, ducked and sidestepped, stumbling through attack after attack, my heart in my throat as even the slightest misstep on those slippery, bloody steps would cause my instantaneous death.

After Emperor only knows how long of utter desperation and fear, I found the top of the steps, flat ground.

I didn't hesitate. I spun and started to run, straight toward the doors.

My heart lunging in my throat, I sprinted across the long expanse, expecting in any second the death blow to hit me in the back. But it never came.

I barely managed to slow enough to keep myself from running full tilt into the ornate doors.

Without daring to look back, I grabbed hold of the door and, hoping beyond hope it wasn't locked, pulled with all my remaining strength. Much to my pleasant surprise, it opened without resistance but what I found made me hesitate.

I faced another wall of pitch black, exactly like the one that'd surrounded Brutis' building. I looked over my shoulder, seeing one of the daemons bearing down on me as it drew back its arm.

With a sigh, I drew my sword, turned and plunged straight into the black.

 

 

At first, I ran through the blackness, I ran and ran, but it went on and on. Soon I couldn't go any further. I had to come to a halt and look back. Much to my surprise, there was nothing, just more black behind me.

I activated my power sword and readied it weakly while trying to stop my insistent gasping. Just because I couldn't see them didn't mean they weren't there, silently stalking me through the darkness.

For a long time, I stood, glancing around like a madman to find some trace, any trace of them; their absence was just more terrifying than if they were there.

Stop standing around, my mind said. There isn't enough time for you to indulge your rampant paranoia!

I clenched my teeth, knowing it was the truth, but I seemed unable to make myself move; I was barely able even to stand.

Think about this, you idiot; if they were there, they'd have killed you by now; keep moving, frig it!

"What, what if they're out there and just toying with me?" I stammered.

Really? I don't think they have the intellect to do that, do you?

"Who knows, perhaps they do. Perhaps they actually do have the intellect and have been pretending to be like mindless beasts to trick me into that assumption, so it'd lull me into a false sense of security. Perhaps..."

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, interrupted the voice. The daemons. Aren't. There! Right now, all your friends are fighting for their lives! They may be dying out there or even already dead! The more time you waste standing around, perhapsing like an idiot, the more likely that Karmen will be dead, or Castella! Or everyone! Get moving!

I closed my eyes and gripped my sword.

"But!-"

But nothing! Go!

I sighed and turned forward; anyone else may've became lost there and then, but my instinct carried me innately on.

The voice was right; again, I'd hesitated, allowed myself to give in, put my friend's lives at risk. The darkness was doing this; the first played on my fear, this on my paranoia.

Fear? Paranoia? Were they really that different?

I furrowed my brow and limped on, but then a thought suddenly hit me.

Friends, I'd just called them friends by the Emperor; how long has it been since I've called anyone a friend?

How long? I didn't know I couldn't recall, and even if I had, was it as genuine as just then? Castella, Torris, Garrakson, Tresch, perhaps even Darrance and Vex. Friends.

And here I was, standing around of my pathetic insecurities when all their lives were on the line. I clenched my teeth and furrowed my brow, then burst into a sprint.

I emerged into the church, its abruptness causing me to stumble and almost lose my balance.

I was standing at the entrance, looking down the main aisle leading to the altar, the many rows of pews were empty, and the blood-red light was in here too. The same crimson clouds covered the ceiling as the underhive outside. Strangely, despite the outward appearance of disrepair, everything here seemed in pristine condition. Statues of various saints lined the walls, some in the attire of warriors wearing armour of multiple makes, their weapons slung and sheathed. Some in the garments of civilians, some women, some men, but all kneeled in prayer.

Standing behind the altar was what I guessed to be the 'conduit.' A thick, half a metre tall black pillar that seemed made of marble. From its tip, it spewed a swirling, whirling mass of black and red that intertwined into the air like a hurricane.

"You, you must be the conduit," I gasped and began to limp my way toward it, but the slow, mocking clapping made me stop in my tracks.

"Well done, well done. He did say you would make it," said a figure as he stepped out of the shadows, still clapping slowly, mockingly.

He was tall, thin and lean and wore a flak jacket. His head was shaven, and he smiled at me through sickeningly sharpened teeth. "I'm impressed you managed to make it this far, young, Mr, Kaltos. I didn't believe him. I guess I'll never question anything he says ever again,"

"Feuilt?"

The man grinned widely and bowed deeply. "Why the one and only."

Sudden rage overtook me, and with a roar, I found myself charging down the long aisle with reckless abandon.

He smiled, swayed under my slash and spun sideward, out of reach of my blade.

"Ohh, Mr Kaltos, is that the way to greet the one who saved you?"

"Where is she, you bastard!" I snarled.

"Who? Ohh, you mean your little girlfriend, right? The Elandria girl? Why do you care? She's now a corpse."

Bellowing out, I slid the distance and struck down my sword, but Feuilt backpedalled easily out the way.

"Tsk, tsk so touchy."

"You bastard, tell me where the hell she is, now!" I roared.

"Or what?" sneered Feuilt. "You're going to continue waving your little sword about like a little girl? If you really want to know, Mr Kaltos. I don't actually know; the corpse was taken off-world, into the warp, she's gone, long gone. Deal with it."

I looked at him, gaping like an idiot. "Taken off-world? But, but why?"

"I don't know!" He exclaimed. "And if I did, do you seriously think I'd tell you? My master wanted the corpse frozen and somewhere other than Omnartus. That's all I know, and that's all you're going to get."

I clenched my jaw and glared at him balefully. Everything is all your fault, you smug son of a bitch, I thought.

"Oh, that's right," said Feuilt. "I almost forgot."

He suddenly moved and punched me hard in the face. I reeled back in pain, then his kick smashed into my guts, causing me to bend double forward and briefly off my feet, then collapsing to my knees, coughing and winded.

"That's right, I'm here to stop you from destroying the Conduit, aren't I?" he said. "And I'm sorry, Mr Kaltos, you have fulfilled your purpose; now you're expendable. You can die."

From under his jacket, Feuilt drew a powerblade and activated it.

I slowly climbed to my feet and smiled, pointing my sword at him.

"I still have a purpose, Feuilt, and that's why I won't die. Not here, not now." Then I turned and ran for the pillar.

My eyes widened, and my teeth clenched as he was suddenly in front of me and slashing his power sword. Desperately I leapt away, the crackling blade, missing by me less than a millimetre. Feuilt followed on with a stab at my chest that I just managed to sidestep but was forced to block his third, a vertical, downward cut.

He didn't pull back but applied pressure, and quickly I found my arms buckling under his superior strength and weight. I knew I couldn't hold out, so I kicked at his groin, forcing him to bound back.

"Uh uh uh," he said. "You already forgot what I said, didn't you? I said, 'I'm here to stop you from destroying the Conduit,' and that, 'you can die.' I used the wrong word there; I meant, 'you will die.' So why can't you just give up and make this more comfortable for the both of us?"

With a growl, I lunged, cutting at his skull. Feuilt ducked then slid suddenly onto my side, and scarcely I managed to parry his thrust. With a laugh, Feuilt slashed, causing me to stumble out the way.

I stabbed back, but Feuilt parried it with ease, and roundhouse kicked me in the back.

Staggering, gasping with the pain, I turned just in time to block his low horizontal slash then sway just out the way of his following thrust.

Clenching my teeth and swallowing back the bile rising in my mouth, I countered and sliced diagonally at his legs. Feuilt only laughed and danced over it, then smashed away my next cut. Undeterred, I carried on my offence, next slashing vertically upward, which Feuilt backstepped. I followed with a stab that he sidestepped, then a horizontal blow he ducked.

Feuilt slipped out the way of my front kick and spun into a lightning-fast slash that forced me to lean back like mad; luckily, he was wielding a short blade; if it were just a few centimetres longer, I would've lost my head.

He stabbed next, and I parried, countering by cutting over his arms, toward his skull. Like water, Feuilt weaved away, but my blade barely missed. I'd almost got the bastard.

"I see you have some fight left, Attelus," said Feuilt, standing out of range, sounding almost genuinely impressed.

"I, I have fight