There was a tearing, agonised shudder. Sargaul’s eyes opened, and suddenly they were his again. ‘Reclaim our gene‐seed, brother,’ he said.
There was a flash of lucidity, of consciousness in those eyes. A brief return of Sargaul.
For a moment, Barsabbas almost believed he’d needlessly killed his bond. But then Sargaul faded fast, descending into a dazed stupor before expiring quickly, his life signs fading on the squad link.
138
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE DECISION HAD been made for Barsabbas. There was no other option but to continue to Ur.
Try as he might, he could not turn back. Like the southward bird in winter, Barsabbas was drawn to his objective. It was the behavioural pattern of a Space Marine that he could not have stopped had he wanted to. The impulse to go north lingered over his every thought and action. The original objective was Ur, and until Barsabbas received express orders to desist, his mind would allow him to do nothing else but tread step after step in the direction of that cloistered, faraway place.
Strangely conscious of his mental conditioning, Barsabbas did not resist. The ability to execute their objectives until death made Space Marines the most effective military formation known to man. If Hauts Bassiq had a sea, he would walk along the ocean bed to reach his destination.
Behind him, the power facility burned. A high afternoon wind lifted the flames, taunting them higher and higher. None of that concerned him. In his mind, Barsabbas could only picture the city of Ur – a solid polygon at odds with its environment. Sealed, impervious and smooth‐walled, harshly artificial amongst the softly undulating clay plains.A segregated island of man amongst an oceanic spread of feral, uncultivated wilderness.
‘What now?’ Gumede asked, the roaring fire reflecting off his prominent cheekbones.
‘To Ur. It is what Sargaul would have done. Besides, there is little left for me. In Ur, I will find my death or my redemption.’
‘You cannot enter Ur. There is no way in,’ Gumede replied.
Perhaps not for a plainsman, Barsabbas accepted. Ever since the Blood Gorgons harvested the first plainsman stock to replenish their ranks, they had known of the existence of Ur. But even the Blood Gorgons had never entered the city. It was sealed, a hive world with no entrance nor exit; a ziggurat that could not be entered. In turn, the Blood Gorgons had plundered more vulnerable targets, content to claim the planet of Hauts Bassiq as their own and leave the insulated bastion to itself.
‘I have entered Ur,’ Sindul proclaimed smugly. Content with himself, the dark eldar lay in the dry grass. He flicked his blades playfully, tossing them and catching them.
Barsabbas remained impassive. ‘Tell me how you got in.’
‘It is not ruled by the Barons of Ur. The Imperial cult has fallen,’ Sindul laughed.
‘Don’t ignore my question,’ Barsabbas growled, shifting his weight menacingly. ‘How did you get in?’
‘I was in the retinue of my lord’s firstborn son. We were guests of the Ner’Gal warlord.’
‘Then we will not be welcome. You cannot enter Ur. Not in all of our stories has anyone entered Ur,’ Gumede concluded, shaking his head.
‘Then you have resigned yourself to following history,’ said Barsabbas. ‘But I have a plan.’
IT WAS NOT right for an emissary of the kabal to be treated like a pet hound. The humiliation sat like the cold edge of a rock in Sindul’s boot. Although the mon‐keigh’s thrall‐worm had 139
been excised from his flesh, it would leave a humiliating scar for the rest of his days.
Holding a shameful hand to his face, Sindul harboured the resentment deep in his belly.
The three had walked for six kilometres north and made camp in a high cave overlooking the alkali flats. When they looked south, black storm clouds had crept up behind them, promising a heavy afternoon downpour.
Barsabbas departed without explanation, disappearring into the storm as the curtains of rain fell over him.
It was the opportunity that Sindul had been waiting for since his capture. Only Gumede remained to watch over him, an arrow notched loosely inside his bow frame. The plainsman sat cross‐legged across from him, watching the sky swirl darker.
But Barsabbas had grown careless. By extracting the slave‐seed, he had removed the last reason for Sindul to stay.
The dark eldar was no longer trapped. Barsabbas had slain the survivors of their raiding party and with it, any trace or evidence of Sindul’s disgrace. Alone, Sindul could return home as the sole reminder and the events on Hauts Bassiq would be his words, and only his words. To