Their stern martial bearing was an inspiration for Julius, who held himself a little straighter at their presence.
Eidolon looked unimpressed at the gathered warriors, while Vespasian’s humours were unreadable behind his flawless, classical features. Both lord commanders were armed, Vespasian’s sword held sheathed at his side and Eidolon’s hammer carried upon his shoulder.
Julius could feel the tension in the air as the expedition awaited Fulgrim’s words.
‘My friends,’ began Fulgrim, taking his seat before the assembled warriors, his pale skin radiant in the glow from above, ‘it gladdens my heart to see you gathered so. It has been too long since last we made war, but what a chance we have now to remedy that.’
Though he knew what was coming, Julius felt an unreasoning excitement build within him and saw that the normally sardonic Lycaon smiled broadly when he heard the primarch speak.
‘We orbit the world of a fearsome species that calls itself the Laer,’ continued Fulgrim, his voice having lost the Cthonic harshness he had picked up while the Emperor’s Children had fought alongside the Warmaster’s Luna Wolves. The cultured accent of Old Terra again flavoured every syllable, and Julius found himself beguiled by the timbre and cadence of the primarch’s words. ‘And such a world it is! One that the honoured representatives from the Mechanicum tell me would be of immeasurable value to the crusade of the Emperor, he who is beloved by all.’
‘Beloved by all,’ echoed the chamber.
Fulgrim nodded and said, ‘Though a world such as this would be of immense value to us, its alien inhabitants do not wish to share what blind fortune has blessed them with. They refuse to see the manifest destiny that guides us through the stars and have made it abundantly clear that they hold us in nothing but contempt. Our peaceable advances have been rebuffed with violence, and honour demands we answer in kind!’
Angry shouts of threatened violence filled the Heliopolis. Fulgrim smiled, clasping his hands to his chest in thanks for their devotion. As the cheering and shouts died away, Julius saw Lord Commander Fayle stand and bow deeply to the primarch.
‘If I may?’ ventured the soldier, his voice deep and laden with experience.
‘Of course, Thaddeus, you are my most favoured ally,’ said Fulgrim, and Fayle’s stern mask twitched in pleasure at being addressed by his first name.
Julius smiled as he remembered the skill with which Fulgrim flattered those he spoke to, knowing full well that he was soon to blindside Fayle with hard facts and uncomfortable truths.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ began Fayle, placing his gnarled hands on the wall that separated him from the dark floor of the Heliopolis. As Thaddeus Fayle spoke, microscopic motes of crystal floating in the column of light focused on the Army commander, wreathing him in a diffuse glow. ‘Perhaps you can enlighten me as to something?’
Fulgrim smiled and his dark eyes were alive with mirth. ‘I shall endeavour to bring illumination to your ignorance.’
Fayle bristled at the implied insult, but pressed on. ‘You have called us here for a council of war regarding what is to be done with Twenty-Eight Three? Yes?’
‘Indeed I have,’ replied Fulgrim. ‘For I could not conceive of undertaking such a decision without your counsel.’
‘Then why have you already sent warriors to the planet’s surface?’ asked Fayle with impressive force of will. Most mortals were rendered imbecilic simply by standing in the presence of a primarch, but Thaddeus Fayle spoke as though to a member of his own staff, and Julius felt his choler rise at such boorish behaviour.
‘I heard word that the Council of Terra had decided that subjugating the Laer would cost too many lives and would take too long. Ten years was the figure I heard,’ continued Fayle without pause. ‘Wasn’t there even talk of making them a protectorate of the Imperium?’
Julius saw the
Eidolon looked unimpressed at the gathered warriors, while Vespasian’s humours were unreadable behind his flawless, classical features. Both lord commanders were armed, Vespasian’s sword held sheathed at his side and Eidolon’s hammer carried upon his shoulder.
Julius could feel the tension in the air as the expedition awaited Fulgrim’s words.
‘My friends,’ began Fulgrim, taking his seat before the assembled warriors, his pale skin radiant in the glow from above, ‘it gladdens my heart to see you gathered so. It has been too long since last we made war, but what a chance we have now to remedy that.’
Though he knew what was coming, Julius felt an unreasoning excitement build within him and saw that the normally sardonic Lycaon smiled broadly when he heard the primarch speak.
‘We orbit the world of a fearsome species that calls itself the Laer,’ continued Fulgrim, his voice having lost the Cthonic harshness he had picked up while the Emperor’s Children had fought alongside the Warmaster’s Luna Wolves. The cultured accent of Old Terra again flavoured every syllable, and Julius found himself beguiled by the timbre and cadence of the primarch’s words. ‘And such a world it is! One that the honoured representatives from the Mechanicum tell me would be of immeasurable value to the crusade of the Emperor, he who is beloved by all.’
‘Beloved by all,’ echoed the chamber.
Fulgrim nodded and said, ‘Though a world such as this would be of immense value to us, its alien inhabitants do not wish to share what blind fortune has blessed them with. They refuse to see the manifest destiny that guides us through the stars and have made it abundantly clear that they hold us in nothing but contempt. Our peaceable advances have been rebuffed with violence, and honour demands we answer in kind!’
Angry shouts of threatened violence filled the Heliopolis. Fulgrim smiled, clasping his hands to his chest in thanks for their devotion. As the cheering and shouts died away, Julius saw Lord Commander Fayle stand and bow deeply to the primarch.
‘If I may?’ ventured the soldier, his voice deep and laden with experience.
‘Of course, Thaddeus, you are my most favoured ally,’ said Fulgrim, and Fayle’s stern mask twitched in pleasure at being addressed by his first name.
Julius smiled as he remembered the skill with which Fulgrim flattered those he spoke to, knowing full well that he was soon to blindside Fayle with hard facts and uncomfortable truths.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ began Fayle, placing his gnarled hands on the wall that separated him from the dark floor of the Heliopolis. As Thaddeus Fayle spoke, microscopic motes of crystal floating in the column of light focused on the Army commander, wreathing him in a diffuse glow. ‘Perhaps you can enlighten me as to something?’
Fulgrim smiled and his dark eyes were alive with mirth. ‘I shall endeavour to bring illumination to your ignorance.’
Fayle bristled at the implied insult, but pressed on. ‘You have called us here for a council of war regarding what is to be done with Twenty-Eight Three? Yes?’
‘Indeed I have,’ replied Fulgrim. ‘For I could not conceive of undertaking such a decision without your counsel.’
‘Then why have you already sent warriors to the planet’s surface?’ asked Fayle with impressive force of will. Most mortals were rendered imbecilic simply by standing in the presence of a primarch, but Thaddeus Fayle spoke as though to a member of his own staff, and Julius felt his choler rise at such boorish behaviour.
‘I heard word that the Council of Terra had decided that subjugating the Laer would cost too many lives and would take too long. Ten years was the figure I heard,’ continued Fayle without pause. ‘Wasn’t there even talk of making them a protectorate of the Imperium?’
Julius saw the
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