[Inquisitor Rosenadel]

II

“You are sure your diversion is working? I will not have our kindred be massacred in the open. Our task’s completion is imminent. We have only to slip through into the aether and we are free.” The tall, slim figure stood menacingly over two bodies. The humble human before him cowered on his knees. This time he did not cry at the sight of the bodies. He was far past that point.


The rest of the human’s apartment was in the state that it had always been. The disheveled kitchen was still in its weathered-looking state. Except for the half-dozen lithe shapes that slunk around, wearing little except the occasional piece of spiked plate armour and loin coverings


“Yes, Master! All is ready! We are ready to depart,” said the man in a quavering voice. The tall figure nodded and turned away. “But…”


The figure turned back, a dangerous look in its eyes. “Yes?” it hissed. “You have something more to say? Some part of the plan has been fouled, no doubt. Tell me, slave, or I shall have to convince you to trust me again.” The figure’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and pure, evil cruelty.


The man’s eyes widened and he trembled slightly. “No, no Master! I am still convinced! However… you are correct. Caldwell has been captured! If they break him, he could lead them here!” the man squealed.


“I am well aware of what could happen, slave. Be gone. Announce that it is time to leave. Everyone is to gather at the appointed spot.” The figure was calm, but its tone was icy.


“At once, Master!” The man scampered out of the house that was once his, hurrying down the road.


The figure turned to the shadows prowling the room. “Go,” it hissed, “gather the slaves, and bring them to the portal. Make haste!” The shadows slipped out of the house. A warrior in plates of heavy armour stepped out of the shadows. Despite the wicked-looking weapon glowing with power it carried, the tall figure did not flinch. “Archon, what if they do break him? What if they have already broken him?” The armoured figure stood at a stiff attention, but there was a hint of concern in its voice.

“It does not matter. We will gather as many as we can, hold out as long as we can, and then simply leave. We have done this for years. I did not become Archon because I am a fool, Draathek. We will once again escape with our harvest. She Who Thirsts will be well sated, and perhaps I can conjure something to ward her off forever. Perhaps more. For now, we will concern ourselves with herding the slaves through the Gate. Go and assist Jerik in gathering his kind.”


“At once,” Draathek answered and walked out the door.


The Archon looked down at the bodies that lay at his feet. How he had savored their pain as he tortured them. He had learned the best methods of torture from his master Haemonculus. He had also gleaned much knowledge from observing the Chaos Space Marines of the Emperor’s Children legion. He was close to completing his goal. Soon, he might not sacrifice merely to survive, but to gain power and favor from the Tempter of Souls. He could tell from the way her moans and screams had resonated in his head as he killed them that She Who Thirsts was very pleased with him.


He was confident that his harvest would be great. The distraction set up to neutralize the officers of the Adeptus Arbites was working. Thousands of emergency lights were going off at the precinct headquarters, some indicating that the population was rising in revolt, some that there was dangerous warp interference within the city, and more that there were dangerous weapons of mass destruction inside the governor’s hall. This had distracted them as his warriors gathered all the slaves to be transported through the portal.


Yes, the Archon thought, I will have my slaves, and then my power. I will have power over that fool Vek. She will be Queen of the Shadowed Talon Cabal no longer. And then, I will torture her, and offer her to Her… she will be a most satisfactory sacrifice for the both of us.

=][=