Maloghurst nodded, the Warmaster's furious conviction intoxicating, and dropped painfully to one knee in supplication.
'What would you have me do, my lord?'
Tell this Petronella Vivar that she may have her audience, but it must be now,’ said Horus, his fearsome outburst quite forgotten, 'and tell her that if she impresses me, I will allow her to be my personal docu-mentarist for as long as she desires it,’
Are you sure about this, sir?'
'I am, my friend,’ smiled Horus. 'Now get up off your knees, I know it pains you,’
Horus helped Maloghurst rise to his feet and gently placed his armoured gauntlet on his equerry's shoulder.
'Will you follow me, Mai?' asked the Warmaster. 'No matter what occurs?'
You are my lord and master, sir,’ swore Maloghurst. 'I will follow you until the galaxy bums and the stars themselves go out.'
'That's all I ask, my friend,’ smiled Horus. 'Now let's get ready to see what Erebus has to say for himself. Davin, eh? Who'd have thought we'd ever be back here?'
Two hours after making planetfall on Davin.
The communication from Erebus of the Word Bearers that had brought the 63rd Expedition to Davin had spoken of an old tally, the settling of a dispute, but had said nothing of its cause or participants.
After the carnage on Murder and the desperate extraction from the Extranus, Loken had expected a warzone of unremitting ferocity, but this warzone, if indeed it could be called that, was deathly quiet, hot and… peaceful.
He didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Horus had come to the same conclusion not long after they had landed, sniffing the air of Davin with a look of recognition.
There is no war here,’ he had said.
'No war?' Abaddon had asked. 'How can you tell?'
'You learn, Ezekyle,’ said Horus. 'The smell of burnt meat and metal, the fear and the blood. There is none of that on this world,’
'Then why are we here?' asked Aximand, reaching up to lift his plumed helmet clear of his head.
'It would seem we are here because we have been summoned,’ replied Horus, his tone darkening, and Loken had not liked the sound of the word 'summoned' coming from the Warmaster's lips.
Who would dare to summon the Warmaster?
The answer had come when a column of dust grew on the eastern horizon and eight boxy, tracked vehicles rumbled across the steppe towards them. Shadowed by the Stormbirds that had flown in with the Warmaster, the dark, brushed steel vehicles trailed guidons from their vox-antenna, emblazoned with the heraldry of an Astartes Legion.
