The Emperor's Legion (Watchers of the Throne #1) - Chris Wraight Page 0,100

can have a million more troops here within days if the orbital defences are now deemed overmanned. They all owe their allegiance to us. The Titans are within Raskian’s purview, as are the skitarii maniples in-system, and he’s with us.’

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. We had been reduced to this, it seemed – squabbling over the conduits of power even as the Throneworld disintegrated into starvation and lawlessness and our walls were heaps of daemon-infested rubble.

‘With respect, lord, I do not think this is the time to–’

‘This is the only time we will ever have. He is a primarch. You know your forbidden history – they were fratricidal lunatics, prepared to tear the entire galaxy apart to pursue their feuds. We designed the Lex – he designed the Lex – precisely to stop them doing it ever again. He cannot take control.’

I smiled grimly. ‘And how would you stop him? He was once the commander of a Legion.’

‘The Legions are no longer here, though, are they? They’re gone into history, just where they ought to be.’

‘Not all,’ I said.

Haemotalion nodded. ‘You are right. One remains. One Legion, the Emperor’s Legion. You did what you could to bring it under our control, I suppose.’

‘That was never my intention.’

‘Valoris is one of us now, and he must be made to see reason.’

I remembered how the Captain-General had been, back in the crypt when I had dared to try to impose my will on his. He would not suffer himself to be a pawn in our games. That was why they had resisted being dragged to the table for so long. He must have known of this danger, or seen something like it coming. We had prided ourselves on all our activity, rushing around with our edicts and our policies and thinking the Custodians moribund relics of a long-gone age, but they had played the quiet game more perfectly than us and now held the balance of power in their etched gauntlets.

I remembered what Valerian had told me.

We are not a part of your Imperium. We involve ourselves within it only if we deem that His will demands it.

‘They won’t work for us,’ I said. ‘Not now, not ever, and I was never trying to achieve that. All I wanted was to see them set free.’ Harster’s face still haunted me. ‘I wanted to see them take the fight to the enemy.’

‘Then you’ll give him all he wants,’ said Haemotalion. ‘You’ll give him the crusade he lusts for, and the blood-tide will rise so high we’ll all drown in it.’

‘I’ll give no one anything,’ I said, growing impatient. ‘You see anything in my hands, Master? I’ve lost it all. We all have.’

He grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to face him. ‘He’s only one soul, and he’s not been here long.’ He twitched heavily, and I felt his body spasm through my robes. ‘They say that this Imperium is a rotten corpse, a shell of what it once was. I’ve never believed that. We’re greater now than we’ve ever been, and these trials are no different to the ones we overcame before. We’re hardier, we’re tougher, we’ve faced the dark for longer than he ever did. His age is over. We’re the inheritors of the mantle.’

I looked into his eyes, and saw how poorly they focused now.

‘He can’t take this from us,’ he said. ‘He can’t be allowed to.’

When I next spoke, I did so carefully.

‘Then what do you wish me to do?’ I asked.

‘Support us. Keep the cordon in place, resist the Adeptus ­Custodes being dragged into this. If he wants to launch a crusade of his own, let him kill himself alone out there. He must not become the new Lord of Terra. Valoris must remain with us.’

I don’t know whether he believed all of that. Perhaps he truly thought that Guilliman would usher in yet more destruction, or maybe he only feared for his own standing in this new Imperium. All I knew was that I had been convinced of something back then, driven by a force that it took a long time to recognise.

Haemotalion had done me some service, albeit unintentionally. As I listened to his desperation, I felt some of that resolve return.

I hadn’t been wrong. Not entirely. This was not about the Council, and not about the primarch. This was about what Valerian had said. This was about His will.

‘I serve the High Lords, as I ever have,’ I said, looking the Master of the