Fist of Demetrius

by William King

  ‘We will be using it in the future to coordinate the defence. We should be able to give you some warning of incoming attacks. We have established the fact that the xenos are using a valley in the mountains as their primary base, a relic of blasphemous xenos.’

  A confused look passed over the Tyrant’s face. ‘The Valley of the Ancients? That makes no sense. Surely one of the greater city-states would be better.’

  It did not suit Macharius to tell him quite how few the xenos were and that they would have difficulty holding down the population of a whole city. ‘I believe it was once a site sacred to their deviant race. Perhaps they have some unholy purpose there. In any case, I intend to cleanse them from it.’

  The Tyrant nodded. He was obviously not troubled by the fact that the ancient site was under xenos control. The only thing that meant anything to him was probably that his city-state was the closest major population centre to the valley. This meant, as far as he was concerned, that it was bearing the brunt of the attacks.

  ‘You wish to use Kha as a staging post for your attack,’ said the Tyrant, who clearly had not got his position by being slow on the uptake.

  Macharius nodded.

  ‘That might draw unwelcome attention to us,’ said the Tyrant.

  ‘You are already receiving that attention,’ said Macharius. ‘I will end it.’

  ‘You are very sure of yourself,’ said the Tyrant.

  ‘I will drive these xenos off,’ said Macharius. ‘I will remember those who aided me. I will also remember those who opposed me. The Imperium is the most powerful force in the universe. It rewards those who stand with it. It punishes those who defy it. It protects its allies. It smashes its enemies.’

  The Tyrant looked around. I could practically see what he was thinking. The ship was impressive. He had been brought the long way from the docking airlock. He had seen how vast it was. He had no idea of how many other ships there might be. Macharius carried himself with superb confidence, and then there was Grimnar. I could tell the Tyrant was wondering if he was really seeing one of the legendary Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes. Even if one had not been seen in this sector for millennia, they would not have been forgotten.

  ‘We will of course cooperate in any way possible,’ said the Tyrant. ‘But our forces are shattered and demoralised, and our resources are scant.’

  ‘We require only a secure place to set down our forces,’ said Macharius, ‘and local guides would be useful. Troops who know the mountainous area leading into the valley.’

  ‘Such can be provided,’ said the female advisor. I noticed that the Tyrant did not contradict her or object to her speaking. ‘My husband can arrange such things. You will need to provide troops to guard what is left of the space-field perimeter in case of attack. My husband cannot guarantee that our troops could hold it in the face of these inhuman enemies.’

  ‘The perimeter will be secured by my personal guard until we have landed our armour.’

  ‘Armour?’ the Tyrant said.

  ‘We have brought Baneblades, Shadowswords and other super-heavy tanks. My force is entirely mechanised.’

  ‘And you intend to take it through the mountains to the sacred valleys?’

  ‘The ways look passable. Are there local conditions I should know about?’

  The Tyrant considered this for a moment. ‘The mountains would be a terrible place to be ambushed. There are local tribes, bandits who have swarmed there since the world was first taken by men. They defied our rule. They could never be entirely hunted down or exterminated.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Macharius said. His face and his voice were bland. I guessed he was interested in these bandits. They might prove more useful allies than the Tyrant and his followers. If those thoughts were running through his mind, he gave no sign of it. ‘I will bear that in mind.’

  ‘It would be wise to,’ said the Tyrant.

  Kha was surrounded by mountains. It lay in a long valley at the roots of the range and the titanic, snow-capped spires loomed over it, like great white-haired giants. The space-field had been hit hard by the eldar. I could see burned out vehicles along the perimeter and ruined control towers where they had struck. I could see Leman Russ amid the rubble, weapons facing outwards as they guarded the landing site where the shuttles had landed.

  The old familiar roar of tank engines filled the still, cold air. It made me nostalgic thinking of all the other times I had spent hearing that sound. I had been more than two decades listening to the rumble of mighty engines flood the air of dozens of worlds. The acrid smell of engine exhaust hit my nostrils.

  I scanned the sky. Large birds, most likely predators of some kind, hung on the thermals amid the peaks. White clouds smudged the clear blue. The air seemed to have some special quality to it; it was so clear I felt like I could see further than I ever had before. I felt a certain curiosity, I must admit, knowing that somewhere over there was a secret valley occupied by the enemies of mankind. I turned and looked back towards the city.

  It was not a hive. It was a massive, tangled sprawl of buildings made from old grey stone. Huge statues rose amid the towers. I could see that some of the buildings had been shattered. Their metal spines were showing. Their structures were scorched black in places as though they had been hit by some powerful weapon and burned. There were crowds of locals around the chain-link fences of the field, looking in. I studied them through the magnoculars, ostensibly to check for threats to Macharius’s safety, in reality out of simple curiosity.

  They had the look of refugees mostly. Their clothes were dirty, their faces had a starved appearance; more than that, there was fear there, a haunted quality that made them look frail and fragile. I thought of what I had seen of the eldar, of how they had tortured and maimed for pleasure, and I tried to imagine what it was like to have been driven out of hearth and home by such creatures and to lie awake at night, under a planetary sky, fearing their return.

  ‘See anything interesting, Lemuel?’ Macharius asked. He was standing beside me on the field, looking around with the intense interest he always had when he set foot on a new world. He seemed to be testing the air and the gravity as if they contained information vital to victory. Who knows, perhaps for him they did.

  ‘Refugees, sir, unless I miss my guess. I doubt they are any threat to us.’

  ‘It tells us something, though, Lemuel.’

  ‘Does it, sir?’

  ‘It tells us that the Tyrant and his regime are not terribly well organised or they would have set up shelters and encampments for such people.’ For Macharius, a problem could always be solved by logistics. Or almost always.

  ‘Perhaps he has, sir. And perhaps those folk just don’t want to stay there. Or perhaps they have come simply to take a look at us. To see what we are like. There might not be much other entertainment for them.’

  ‘Is that what you think we are for them, Lemuel? Entertainment? We are protecting them, and bringing them the Emperor’s Law.’

  ‘Of course, sir. That too.’ I wondered if Macharius had ever known what it was like to be poor and have no other entertainment save what you saw in the street. The answer was obvious.

  ‘I will have the quartermaster disburse some ration tabs to the crowd,’ he said. ‘It won’t do any harm to get some of the locals on our side.’

  It was typical of him to turn a gesture of charity into a military action. The charity was genuine, I think. But still it was propaganda.

  An alien-looking craft, all predatory lines and curves swept over the horizon, ignoring the clouds of anti-aircraft fire that tracked it. I wondered if it was the first of many, but it was only a scout.

  Some of our own Lightning fighters scrambled to intercept it. They swept away beyond the mountains and were lost to our sight.

  The humans are transporting a force down to the planet’s surface. They have already established a beachhead. Observers have noted a large contingent of their primitive but powerful armour. There is a practiced precisio
n about what they are doing that suggests competence and experience. These warriors will not be like the planetary defenders, easy prey to our superior tactics and technology. The warriors appear to be wearing the same green uniforms as those on the ship that escaped. Is it possible that their commander, this Macharius, has returned seeking vengeance? I must see some prisoners are taken and interrogated.

  In truth, I would welcome his presence. I like my prey to be challenging. It will help stave off boredom while I wait the last few days for the gate to open. I will take any amusement I can find at the moment, no matter how petty.

  I toy with ordering a strike against them now. It would mean concentrating my force at one point and attacking them when they most expect it, at a place where they would have plenty of human allies to act as cannon fodder. It would mean revealing the true strength of my force, which is smaller than the humans’, although doubtless infinitely superior in morale, firepower and tactical ability.

  The alternative is to wait. Time is on my side. The longer I wait, the closer I get to the gate opening and the secrets of the ancients entering my grasp. I doubt the humans will arrive before that happens.

  Am I willing to defer gratification for so long? I am. Unlike Sileria and Bael and the others I need not give in to the first impulse that enters my mind. That is what makes me a leader and them followers.

  Seventeen

  Long lines of Imperial armour rumbled along the old road from Kha towards the distant mountains. The tracks churned up the ancient stonework, which had not been made to take the weight of super-heavy battle tanks. I found myself wondering what purpose this road had served. Perhaps it had been a trade artery linking this city-state with another. Perhaps it had provided pilgrims with an access route to the holy valleys. Perhaps there were mines up there and this was a trade route. I studied the road looking for clues, but if there were any I never saw them.

  I had plenty of time to think about such things because I was standing behind Macharius in the turret of the Baneblade. He was surveying our surroundings through his magnoculars. He liked to get a feel for the terrain. I worried about the fact that we might see eldar aircraft moving to attack us. On these narrow roads any flyer with sufficiently powerful weapons could wreak terrible havoc. I did not have much fear for the Baneblade. This ancient monster would be proof against most such weapons. But there were other vehicles, packed with troops, which might be vulnerable.

  This was good terrain for an ambush. There were many smaller valleys and gulleys leading off from the one that the road ran through. Huge boulders marked the hillside. There were caves up there, and I was sure there were people watching us. I sometimes caught the glitter of the sun on magnocular lenses. I saw signs of stealthy movement that set the hairs on the back of my neck to rising. It might have been some mountain predator, but I did not think so. I thought there were men in those mountains who were watching us pass through their land.

  I thought of what the Tyrant had said, about bandits. That did not imply any love was lost between the mountain people and the city-dwellers, and they would know where we had come from. I doubted we had anything to fear from hill-bandits unless we were beaten at the Valley of the Ancients. Irregular troops could make our line of retreat very unsafe indeed. I thought of the effects of demolition charges on these mountain roads, of man-made landslides, of all the things a few determined men could do against an armoured convoy.

  I wondered what was going through Macharius’s mind. Was this what he had expected to find when he set out? I doubted it. How could he have expected to encounter a force of xenos. He had come prepared for some trouble, though, and I was glad. This was not the usual sledgehammer world-conquering army he would have brought to bear during the course of a normal campaign, but there were enough troops to give me some sense of security and the idea that we would achieve our goal.

  I was especially glad of that when I thought about the insanity of the eldar we had encountered, their unending, unrelenting malice and cruelty. I found that despite my horror I was looking forward to reaching our objective. I was looking forward to another chance at killing them.

  I looked up at the sky. It was reassuring to think that somewhere in space overhead was a company of Space Wolves ready to drop in and reinforce us. I would have been happier with a Chapter, but you can’t have everything.

  I wondered what they were thinking. Most likely they planned to drop on the site under cover of our attack and reclaiming the Fist. It appeared to be what Macharius expected, and he was usually right about such things.

  It seems certain the humans are advancing towards the valley. They have ascertained our position and are moving against us with their cumbersome vehicles. Despite the primitive nature of their tanks, it is nonetheless a formidable force, made all the more so by the presence of the warship in orbit.

  The swiftness with which the human commander has assembled his forces and launched them through the mountains is impressive. I am afraid that dealing with the slow-witted inhabitants of this world has caused me to underestimate humans in general. I confess I am pleased. There is more pleasure to be had from humbling foes who at least have a comprehension of the basic uses of military force.

  I am left with several choices. I can cease harassing the primitive cities and concentrate my forces on this new threat. This will give the humans a respite and a chance to organise against me, and most likely they will swiftly realise they have an advantage. Or I can wait for the humans to reach me here and do battle on a prepared ground of my choosing.

  The main thing is to hold the valley for the moment. Timing is becoming critical. Soon the gate will open and I wish to be here when that happens. I do not want to surrender any ground to the humans. It would be foolish to allow the prize to be snatched from my hands at this late hour.

  Let them come. I have a few surprises in store for them when they get here.

  It grew swiftly cold in the mountains once the sun went down. The temperature dropped perceptibly within minutes. Breath clouded in the cold air. We set up camp, the largest and least vulnerable of our vehicles forming a perimeter around our improvised base, turrets turned to face outwards, engines left running to provide warmth. Our scouts had chosen a valley large enough to contain our entire force. It was easy enough to hold each end of it. Lines of fire covered the approaches. Overhead, I caught sight of a sleek eldar craft silhouetted against the moon. A few of our fighter air cover got on its tail and the battle raged on somewhere into the darkness, moving out of sight behind distant mountains. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed where the conflict continued.

  We sat ourselves around a fire, eating rations out of mess-tins. Macharius and Drake sat like common soldiers. It was not just for the sake of morale. It made them less conspicuous targets for any sharpshooter seeking officers to kill. They ate the same field rations with the same cheap Imperial Guard-issue utensils. Back on Emperor’s Glory, they might have the ransom of planetary governors. Here they mucked in with the rest of us.

  ‘In two more days we should reach the valley,’ Macharius said. ‘We will drive out the xenos and take possession of it in the Emperor’s name.’

  ‘You think it will be that easy?’ Drake said. There was a troubled expression on his face. More and more of late it had been there in his dealings with Macharius. If I was not talking about an inquisitor I would be tempted to say it looked as if he were having a crisis of faith. In Macharius.

  ‘Easy or not, it is what we must do. I have not come so far to fail now at the last hurdle.’

  ‘Are the maps of the valley the Tyrant gave us accurate enough for our purposes?’

  ‘They match our orbital divinations in so far as they go. The secret underground routes may prove useful, but I am not counting on them.’

  ‘That is wise since they may not be secret any longer. The eldar have been in possession of the place long enough to find them…’

  ‘But they have not, at least not all of them,’ said a strong
ly accented voice. I looked up and saw a massive bearded man flanked by two members of Macharius’s Lion Guard. More soldiers were with him. One of them said, ‘Speak to the Lord High Commander when you are spoken to.’ He turned to Macharius and said, ‘We found him skulking around the edges of the camp, my lord.’

  The bearded man laughed. ‘You found me because I stood up and let you see me, otherwise I could have walked into your camp and taken food from your plates without being noticed.’ The Guard lieutenant turned and looked as though he were about to strike the giant. Macharius raised his hand and said in a level voice, ‘You do not have the look of a thief, sir.’

  ‘I take what I want from those who pass through my land without my permission,’ said the hill-man. ‘It seems only fair. It is more in the nature of a toll.’

  ‘Why did you allow my sentries to see you?’

  ‘I wanted to talk with you, to see what manner of man commands this force. You are moving towards the xenos so that means you are no city-man, certainly not one of Kha. None of them would dare move towards the valley now. The mere thought of those xenos has them shitting in their pants.’

  ‘And yet you are not afraid,’ Macharius said. The big man laughed.

  ‘Oh, I am afraid. Any sane man would be of those xenos. They are not like the peaceful beings our legends spoke of. They live to torture and kill, and they have more ways of going about doing so than a Dakathi village woman. The screams that rise from the Valley of the Ancients let us know that. I have toyed with sending them some of my enemies for their sport, but in the end I found I did not have the stomach for it.’

  ‘You would deal with xenos?’ Drake asked. There was a note of soft, purring menace in his voice.

  The hill-man studied him, obviously aware of the threat and equally obviously unafraid. He shook his head. ‘In the hills we are unkind to our enemies. As unkind as can be. Or so I thought until I saw those eldar. I find at this late hour, and very greatly to my surprise, that there are things I would not do to my worst enemy.’ He laughed and shook his head as though he really were surprised to find this thing out about himself.