Hellsreach - Aaron Dembski-Bowden [139]
Asavan descended into the sublevel, immediately marked out from the other preachers by his grimy robes and dishevelled hair. He walked among the people, offering gentle words to families as he passed. He was especially patient with the children, giving them the blessing of the God-Emperor in His aspect as the Machine-God, and saying personal prayers over individual boys and girls that seemed the most weary or withdrawn.
There was a lone guard stationed at the bottom of the stairs. She was slight of frame, both short and slender, wearing a suit of power armour that seemed too bulky to be comfortable. In her hands was a boltgun, the weapon held across her chest as she stood to attention.
Asavan moved over to her, his worn boots whispering across the dusty stone.
‘Hello, sister,’ he said, keeping his voice low.
She remained unmoving, at perfect attention, though he could see the tremor in her eyes that betrayed how difficult she found it to bear this rigid nothingness.
‘My name is Asavan Tortellius,’ he told her. ‘Will you please lower the weapon?’
She looked at him, her eyes meeting his. She didn’t lower the bolter.
‘What is your name?’ he asked her.
‘Sister Maralin of the Holy Order of the Ar–’
‘Hello, Maralin. Be at ease, for the enemy is still outside the walls. Might I ask you, please, to lower the weapon?’
‘Why?’ she leaned closer to whisper.
‘Because you are making the people here even more nervous than they already are. By all means, be visible. You are their defender, and they will take comfort in your presence. But walk among them, and offer a few kind words. Do not stand there in grim silence, weapon held tight. You are giving them greater reason to fear, and that is not why you were sent down here, Maralin.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Father.’ The bolter came down. She mag-locked it to her thigh plate.
‘Come,’ he smiled, ‘let me introduce you to some of them.’
The Bane-Sidhe’s void shields rippled and rained sparks, brought into visibility as another layer was stripped by the explosive shells raining against them. A short growl of accumulating power ended in a blasting discharge of energy as the Warlord annihilated the tanks laying claim to the Hel’s Highway ahead.
A black, smoking scorch smear was all the evidence that the tanks had ever existed. Behind the striding Bane-Sidhe, Oberon drifted forward on its gravity suspensors, gently cruising over any obstructions in its path. Bringing up the column’s rear were the clanking, ungainly Warhounds that Bane-Sidhe had ordered back into the city.
The agreement made was monumentally simple, and that was why Jurisian was certain it would work.
‘Defend Oberon,’ he’d said. ‘Defend it for long enough to take a single shot, to down the enemy command gargant. Then the Ordinatus will be surrendered into your control during the retreat towards the Hemlock River.’
What choice did they have? Amasat’s voice over the vox was harsh with the promise of recrimination should the plan fail to run smooth. Jurisian, for his part, could not have cared less. He had the support he needed, and he had a primary target to destroy.
Infantry resistance was met with punishing and instant devastation. Armour formations endured no longer. Through the Temple District, they encountered precious little in the way of enemy engines.
‘That is because, blasphemer, Invigilata left the enemy Titan contingent in ruins.’
‘Except for the Godbreaker,’ the Forgemaster replied. ‘Except for the slayer of Stormherald.’
Amasat chose not to retort.
‘I have nothing on my auspex,’ he said instead.
‘Nor I,’ reported one of the Warhound princeps.
‘I see nothing,’ confirmed the other.
‘Keep hunting. Draw closer to the Temple of the Emperor Ascendant.’
The Mechanicus convoy traversed the urban ruination