He did not add that the remembrancers had chronicled most of the Raven Guard’s accomplishments and victories, as well as the defences of Deliverance. He could not risk the ship transporting the remembrancers being taken by a traitor vessel with such information on board.
‘Just how bad is this?’ asked Iconialis, his voice losing its usual timbre, hushed with worry. ‘I mean… I do not know what to say. I can scarcely believe it.’
‘I won’t lie to you, iterator. War is coming, like nothing you’ve ever seen. A war that will tear the galaxy apart. A war between the Legiones Astartes.’
THE PRISONER WAITED patiently, bemused by his incarceration. He sat on a plain chair that was almost too small for him, dressed in a simple grey robe. He was being kept in an empty storage room not far from Alpha Terminal near the summit of Ravenspire. Corax had ordered the old punishment cells sealed forever after the revolution and it had seemed pointless to open up one of the vacant wings for one legionary. On a world that had once housed nearly ten million prisoners, the massive warrior looked incongruous amongst the metal shelves and cabinets; there was still a mop and bucket in the corner.
Agapito stood to one side of the closed door, Solaro on the other. The commanders stared directly ahead, not looking at their charge. Agapito did so only with immense self-control, and knew that Solaro felt the same. That the prisoner was still alive was a testament to the discipline of the legionaries that had returned directly from Isstvan. He had been taken into custody and treated with a level of dignity that many of them had not known as inmates of Lycaeus. Corax had taught them that there was no honour in heaping the suffering they had endured on others.
A spoken word from the legionary standing outside heralded the arrival of the primarch. Corax had been forced to deal with the remembrancers first, but this matter had been raised between the primarch and his commanders on the return to Deliverance. Agapito opened the door, unsure what his master intended as Corax ducked through, instantly filling the small room with his bulk. The door closed again with a dull clang and Agapito finally allowed himself to look at the prisoner, disgust welling up from the pit of his stomach.
His name was Iarto Khoura and he had come to the Raven Guard shortly after the Edict of Nikaea to ensure the ban on the Librarians was enforced. Like others of his kind throughout the Legions, he had been an unpopular figure, an embodiment of outside interference that aggravated the independently-minded Raven Guard. Despite this, Agapito had never had any personal argument against the man, and had fought alongside him in several wars.
The Word Bearers Chaplain looked up at Corax’s entrance, relief on his face.
‘Lord Corax,’ he said, rising to his feet with a bow of the head. ‘I am glad you have returned to right this matter.’
‘Be silent,’ snapped the primarch, causing the Chaplain to flinch. ‘Sit down and do not speak.’
‘I have been patient thus far with your men, bu–’
‘Silence!’
Corax’s roar flooded the room, causing Agapito’s ears to ring. Khoura fell into the chair, almost breaking it, stunned by the violence of the primarch’s outburst.
‘You are a traitor,’ said Corax, his voice now dipping to an angered whisper, more intimidating than his shout. ‘You are an enemy of the Emperor.’
Khoura opened his mouth and then quickly closed it as the primarch’s frown grew even deeper.
‘Your primarch is a cowardly, treacherous worm,’ Corax continued, crouching down so that his face was centimetres from that of the Chaplain. ‘Your Legion are worthless scum, whose false praises of the Emperor ring even hollower than ever. Your fellow Chaplains are either dead or fled.’
Fighting against the urge to retort to such accusations, Khoura squirmed in the chair, mouthing wordless defences.
‘Why did you not come to Isstvan?’ demanded Corax.
‘It was not my place,’ replied the Chaplain. ‘It was better that I remained here to continue my instruction of the Legion’s recruits. You agreed with that proposal, lord.’
‘Convenient for you. Very convenient that you were not there when your Legion opened fire on my warriors, cutting them down from behind.’
‘They did what?’ Khoura looked aghast at the thought and shook his head. ‘No, that is impossible.’
‘There are seventy-five thousand Raven Guard corpses as evidence of its possibility,’ snarled Corax. ‘How long have you been planning your betrayal, Iarto? Since the Emperor slapped Lorgar back into place? Before then?’
‘I am a Chaplain, dedicated to the spread of the Imperial Truth,’ replied Khoura. ‘I was despatched to Deliverance by the edict of Malcador to ensure the Emperor’s will was being done.’
‘More lies! You were sent by Lorgar to spy on us, to pervert my warriors to the cause of Horus.’
‘That is not true. What evidence do you possess that I am anything but a loyal servant of the Emperor? I have been with your Legion since Nikaea. How can you hold me responsible for the actions of my primarch?’
‘Because you are a Word Bearer. You speak with the tongue of Lorgar. That is your dark creed. You masquerade as the bearer of Enlightenment, but you are nothing but an apostle of treachery.’
‘You have no right to acc–’
Corax snatched up Khoura by the throat, lifting him into the air, banging the Chaplain’s head against the ceiling.
‘Liar! Nothing but filthy lies spill from your bastard lips, son of Lorgar.’
Agapito took a step forwards, but was stopped by Solaro’s hand on his arm. The other commander silently shook his head. Khoura’s gasping face grew redder and redder as the primarch’s grip tightened.
‘This is my world, my Legion,’ rasped Corax. ‘You pollute both with your presence.’
There was a loud crack and Khoura’s head flopped to one side, neck snapped. Corax growled wordlessly and lowered the limp corpse back onto the chair. He turned back towards the door and stopped suddenly as he saw Agapito and Solaro. The primarch’s face was deathly white, his eyes black pits. Agapito felt a moment of trepidation as he looked at his lord’s twisted snarl.
‘Throw this filth in a furnace,’ said Corax. He closed his eyes and visibly calmed, some of the blood returning to his face. ‘I want his quarters searched again. If there is anything to connect him to Horus’s plans, I want it found. Check his communications logs to see if he was contacted by Lorgar or any of the other Word Bearers within the last year.’
‘Should we not have done that before his execution?’ asked Solaro.
Agapito drew in a sharp breath, detecting a hint of annoyance in the tone of the other commander.
‘To what end?’ said Corax.
‘Proof of his guilt, as he demanded,’ said Solaro. The commander met the primarch’s gaze without fear, hands clasped respectfully in front of him.
‘We cannot take the risk of allowing a traitor in our ranks. Besides, I could smell the taint on him, now that I know what it is,’ said Corax. He looked at Agapito. ‘You saw what had become of the Word Bearers on Isstvan.’
‘I saw things that I wish I never had,’ replied Agapito. ‘The Word Bearers were only one amongst many such.’
‘If you are blind to it, I must open your eyes,’ said the primarch. ‘Too long have we kept this secret. It was the Emperor’s will, but that no longer matters. He underestimated its threat.’
‘What are you saying, lord?’ said Solaro. ‘What threat?’
Corax blinked rapidly with surprise and wiped a hand across his face. His expression of torment had gone when he removed his pale hand, replaced by a saner look.
‘Nothing. I am not… My judgement is clouded,’ said Corax. He opened the door but turned his head as he stepped through. ‘Send Branne to me. We must prepare the recruits.’
When the primarch was gone, Solaro gave Agapito a strange look.