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The Red Path 6: Disciples of Khârn – Extract

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The Red Path 6: Disciples of Khârn

Chris Dows

It was difficult for Locq not to smile. He was about to succeed in his mission, and would use it to press home his value to Abaddon, to present himself a worthy equal – or even successor – to Urkanthos. When the two additional ships sent by the Lord Purgator to join the Malevolent Shade had arrived alongside the captured and desecrated Wings of the Eagle, Locq had seen it as a clear reminder of Urkanthos’ superiority. He had not gone so far as to have him replaced as commander, which was perhaps surprising given Locq’s heavy losses during the White Scars attack and the costly encounter on the abandoned moon. Urkanthos’ reasons were not known to Locq and he knew there was nothing to be gained in trying to divine them. The Chaos Lord had been right to say any failure on Locq’s part would end his own service to Abaddon. What Locq had to do was make sure that the glory of victory reflected solely on him.

And so, as Locq stood on the blackened hangar deck of the Skulltaker, he felt supremely confident. Of course, it would have been easy for Khârn to raise that enormous chainaxe of his and charge at the boarding party, but with the numerical superiority Locq held both out in space and here on this wrecked ship, the berzerker would be doomed to failure. With his helmet removed, it was clear to Locq that Khârn was struggling to contain himself, but given the number of guns currently trained on the Chosen of Khorne, the captain felt sure he would be far more willing to listen to his terms this time around.

‘Once again, Khârn, I bring a message from the great Warmaster Abaddon.’

Khârn did nothing more than glower at him. To his left, a berzerker growled something. Locq recognised him from the battle on the moon or, at least, the helmet with the broken horn he rested on one arm. A dozen of his motley warband stood in a ragged line behind their leader, but all had the good sense to keep their weapons trained towards the deck. Locq knew there were scores more throughout the smashed vessel, but he had informed the Skulltaker’s shipmaster that if any more than a dozen turned up to greet them, their ship would be annihilated. Locq had selected fifty Hounds to accompany him; he wanted odds of at least four-to-one just in case Khârn decided to sacrifice himself and everyone else to the Blood God. Growling over the whirring chainswords behind him, Locq continued, relishing every word.

‘He commands you to his presence, and you will heed the call.’

Khârn shifted his weight slightly and looked past Locq to his contingent. His face remained impassive, which was more than could be said of his second. The champion with the half-horned helmet was twitching as if he had been hit with a bolt of energy.

‘We both know, captain, that if you do not… persuade me, you will die for your miserable failure,’ Khârn snarled.

Locq had lost control the first time he had faced Khârn. This time, he was not allowing the berzerker’s words to affect him. Locq had the upper hand in every way.

‘Your words neither impress nor cow me, Khârn. I am tasked with bringing you to the Warmaster, that is true. But it is a great honour to be charged with such a responsibility, although I must confess I do not understand why Abaddon would take even the smallest interest in a wretch like you.’

Locq revelled in the fire burning in Khârn’s eyes. Locq’s gaze flicked to the blood-soaked bandages covering Khârn’s left arm, which were tightening as the cable-thick muscles beneath them tensed. When Khârn replied, his voice was low and threatening.

‘I fight for no one other than the Blood God. I follow nothing but the Red Path.’

Locq had hoped Khârn would resort to his absolute devotion to Khorne. He had heard whispers of this ‘Red Path’ amongst the Hounds. Locq wanted to make Khârn pay with his head for the dishonour he had heaped upon him, but it might just be satisfaction enough to see him acquiesce to Locq’s demands in front of his own warriors. He, too, should taste the bitterness of degradation.

‘What if I were to tell you that Abaddon is showing you this Red Path, Khârn?’

Locq did not understand how Khârn’s hand had clasped around his throat so quickly. He felt his boots leave the floor and he suddenly found he could not breathe or speak. Furious warnings were shouted. Bolter muzzles and chainswords appeared from all directions in his peripheral vision, but right in the middle of his focus snarled the face of Khârn, spitting words at him.

‘You dare suggest Abaddon is in charge of my fate? You know nothing of the Red Path. Nothing!’

Locq took hold of Khârn’s wrist and tried to pull it away. It would not move. Four gun barrels were hastily pressed into Khârn’s skull. Locq’s world was going dark when Khârn’s hand at last withdrew. Locq fell to the floor and, as he recovered, Khârn spat at his feet. The Hounds kept their weapons mere inches away from the Chosen of Khorne, but Locq could see that he did not even notice them. Khârn’s reaction proved that his words had provoked just the turmoil he had hoped for. Now was the time to press home his advantage.

‘If this path of yours exists, you are stumbling along it like a blind fool. Do you know why the Angels Eradicant were attacking you?’

Locq rasped and panted as he rose to his feet. Behind Khârn, berzerkers looked to each other over their raised weapons. Locq held his hands up and then lowered them. At first nothing happened, but when he turned and stared at his guard, they reluctantly stood down. Turning back, Locq could see that he finally had Khârn’s attention.

‘I intercepted the same astropathic transmission you did. But unlike you, I know exactly who it was sent to. The three Imperial vessels were protecting another ship, the Light of the Emperor, buying it time to reach its destination.’

As Locq’s voice returned to full strength, so did his resolve. Khârn continued to eye him dangerously.

‘A destination it has since reached. So you see, Khârn, perhaps the Warmaster is defining the Red Path for you after all.’

Khârn’s reply was full of dangerous intent, but there was something else Locq thought he could hear beneath it. Curiosity.

‘Where is this destination, Locq? Speak, before I take your skull.’

Locq rubbed at his neck and raised his chin. His mouth split to show a predator’s grin.

‘Salandraxis.’

Chapter Master Gaul slammed the hatch to the astropathic chamber on the Light of the Emperor, frustrated by his loss of temper but unable to forestall his fury. For several long seconds he stared into space, ignoring the whirring servitors that scudded and wheeled past him and the rumble of the ship as it idled in orbit around Salandraxis. It was not unusual for those who had communed directly with psykers to be affected by their auras, but what occupied his mind had nothing to do with the unnatural surroundings he had just endured, nor the unsettling spectacle of the astropath delivering his interpretation. It was the content of the message that had flooded his bloodstream with adrenaline.

Three ships had been lost. Three captains. That was half of his strike fleet. The psyker had very few details, so he did not know if they had been destroyed outright or boarded and taken over by the forces of the enemy. When he had laid out the strategy with his commanders, they had agreed it was very risky to split the fleet but recognised that it gave them the best chance of surprising and destroying any threat. The geography of an expansive natural barrier in the void had given them a great advantage – the Phelbic asteroid belt was a navigational point at which any ship traversing the sub-sector had to leave the immaterium to take new bearings. The archenemy had detected the Light of the Emperor’s transmission and taken the bait. Just thinking about Lozepath’s hubris angered him. Gaul had clearly underestimated the strength of the enemy’s forces – and their desire to capture the Living Saint. For all of his professed wisdom, Lozepath had to take the blame for this catastrophe. If the Saint had done what had been asked of him and maintained communication silence, they would not be in this position. But now they were, and Gaul had to take action.

It only took minutes to reach his private chambers, and by then the balance in Gaul’s humours had returned. Despite the enormous and unexpected cost of his rearguard, he still had three ships in orbit, which in itself was a formidable force.

Gaul felt a hatred for his unknown enemy burn in his breast. So many of his warriors were lost to the void. Gaul sent an urgent message to a captain on one of his remaining vessels, then contacted the shipmaster and requested a scrambled long-range vox-channel to Chaplain Tentera. As the various channels switched to their required frequencies and the hail was sent out, Gaul paced the deck, hands clasped behind his back. A signal winked on the communications console set into the wall, and Gaul punched a button on the panel.

‘Chapter Master Gaul. I trust all is well?’

Gaul could tell from the remnants of humanity in Tentera’s distorted voice that he knew it was anything but. As Gaul rubbed his hand over the iron-grey stubble of his beard, he inhaled and replied in as measured a tone as he could muster.

‘I regret to inform you, venerable Chaplain, all is far from well. I have just received an emergency transmission from the rearguard. They are lost.’

Tentera did not reply for some seconds. When he did, his voice was without recrimination or alarm.

‘Your strategy was not without merit, Chapter Master. Lozepath arrived here safely, and we still have three cruisers and a considerable strike force to protect Salandraxis. I assume you will be securing reinforcements as a matter of urgency?’

Tentera understood that Salandraxis presented the next logical target. If the forces of Chaos were intent on destroying Lozepath, they would have to come here to do it.

‘Captain Tercada of the Second Company is communing with the astropaths as we speak. Our request to the Knights Unyielding will carry my personal seal. It may take weeks for them to mobilise a suitable force and transit here. They are spread across the Cadian Gate and fighting the forces of Abaddon in several systems.’

Tentera’s growl was distorted by the vox emitter that served as his voice, but it nevertheless conveyed his understanding of their position.

‘With your permission, I shall convene a council of war.’

Gaul nodded. There was no need to vocalise his agreement to this inevitable requirement. He would have to speak with Rendaj Mahal, the master of the Light of the Emperor, and the rest of his ships’ commanders to discuss the situation they now faced.

‘I shall be there in one hour.’

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A Black Library Publication

Published in 2016 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd,
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Cover illustration by Kev Walker.
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