The Emperor Expects – Extract
My new novel The Emperor Expects (book three in The Beast Arises series) is out this week, and you can read an extract here:
Lansung was the last to arrive, a roll and crash of drums and the climax of the clarions announcing his presence. Above, amongst the smog of incense that hung constantly beneath the dome, vast chandeliers carved as flights of ribbon-trailing cherub-like figures holding burning torches blazed into light, banishing the gloom that had previously filled the room.
Into this brightness stepped Lansung, the medals on his broad chest glinting, the gold of his brocade glistening.
Though still corpulent, the Lord High Admiral’s considerable frame showed signs of being slowly eroded by his busy schedule of late. His jowls hung a little looser, his chins wobbled a little more with skin than fat. Vangorich estimated that Lansung had lost twenty, perhaps as much as twenty-five pounds, in recent weeks, and wondered whether the stress of such politicking was taking a toll in other ways. Whatever the cause, the loss of weight could not be overlooked. Certain compounds, toxins, stimulants and soporifics had to be administered in precise doses relating to the target’s body mass and Vangorich would have to take this into account if his plan for the coming conference did not bear fruit and more drastic measures became necessary.
It was no coincidence that Lord High Admiral Lansung had chosen this venue for his announcement. Probably more than half of the names circling the hall were of starships; such was the nature of war in an interstellar empire. The echo back to Dorn holding council with his brothers was also a striking image to be exploited.
With a magnanimous wave of a ringed hand Lansung invited his fellow High Lords to sit down at the ornate table sitting somewhat lost in the middle of the vast chamber. Vangorich found his place towards one end amongst the other lesser participants, though this was of no surprise. He had always been fascinated by the physical representations of more abstract concepts like power and influence, and the seating arrangements of any Senatorum conclave were a study in the principles.
Somewhat more surprisingly, Lansung chose not to sit at the head of the table as Vangorich had expected, but settled between Tobris Ekharth, the Master of the Administratum, and the Speaker for the Chartist Captains, Juskina Tull. They were close enough to the head of the table to make it clear they were in ascendance, but nobody claimed the empty chair that would once have been occupied by the Sigillite or Dorn during their long councils.
On reflection, Lansung’s positioning made some sense. Vangorich knew that the head of the Imperial Navy was about to announce a fresh offensive against the tide of orks encroaching upon the Segmentum Solar – and assumed the other High Lords were equally informed – and such an expedition would require considerable supplies and logistical support. By choosing to associate himself with the Administratum that would provide those supplies and the merchant fleet that would carry them, Lansung was elevating the status of both organisations above even the Astra Militarum and the Adeptus Arbites who had thus far been waging much of the fight against the barbarous greenskins.
Sat on the opposite side, at the far end, Vangorich’s own position was almost as far away from Lansung as was possible whilst still remaining at the table. Only poor Hektor Rosarind, the Chancellor for Imperial Estates, was further away from the seat of power.
The chair to the right of the Assassin was empty; the Inquisitorial Representative, Wienand, was not present. Her absence annoyed Vangorich more than the admiral’s posturing. He had figured she would be an easy ally to win during the coming council. Of almost equal measure was his annoyance that Wienand’s chief aide and bodyguard, Raznick, had managed to disappear. He had a suspicion, but no evidence as yet, that Raznick had been sent to Mars; no doubt to make inquiries regarding Vangorich’s ongoing operations at the heart of the Cult Mechanicus.
The Grand Master had at least hoped to see Wienand’s public assistant on Terra, Rendenstein. She was proving as elusive as her mistress. The Inquisitorial Representative was being far more cautious since Beast Krule had killed her last second.
Lansung made no pretence of allowing the Lord Commander or the Head of the Administratum to open the proceedings. This was his war council and he rose up, hands balled into fists on the age-worn wood, and looked up and down the length of the table. There was a chorus of mechanical whines as vox-trackers were powered to catch the coming oration, while flashes from pictograph-capture units reflected from the marble columns and dark walls as the scene was recorded for posterity by the Senatorum’s recollection scribes.
‘In each age of man there comes a time when we are most sorely tested,’ Lansung began, speaking quietly, with forced gravitas and sincerity. ‘I beg leave to bring forth a motion before the Senatorum Imperialis that will define this age, and humbly lay upon the deliberations of those gathered here such meagre thoughts as I can collect on the subject that vexes us most at this time.’
Vangorich wanted to laugh – there was nothing humble or meagre about Lansung – but he kept perfectly silent and still, seemingly fixed upon the Lord High Admiral while in fact he gauged the reactions and temperament of the other High Lords.
‘The encroachment of the orks staggered us, I admit. These savages we thought broken, scattered and of little consequence. Like many others, I allowed hopes of peace to outweigh distrust and conscience of duty. Their remarkable offensive has caught us off-guard. Even the might of the Imperial Fists, the honoured defenders of Terra itself, has been insufficient to match this threat.’
A few of the senators drew in sharp breaths. Vangorich was amazed that Lansung would openly criticise one of the First Founding Chapters as he seemed to be doing.
‘We must not allow ourselves to be intimidated by the presence of these armoured ork stations in unexpected places behind our lines. If they are behind our forces, we are also at many points fighting actively behind theirs. Both sides are therefore in an extremely dangerous position. And if the Imperial Guard and our own Navy are well handled, as I believe they will be – if the brave Navy retain that genius for recovery and counter-attack for which they have so long been famous, and if the Imperial Guard shows the dogged endurance and solid fighting power of which there have been so many examples in the past – then a sudden transformation of the scene might spring into being.’
This intrigued Vangorich even further. There had been consistent whispers that Lansung was organising a fresh offensive using the fleet he was gathering at Lepidus Prime, but was he really going to openly promise a reverse of the war’s fortunes?
If this has whetted your appetite, you can read the full extract at the Black Library site.
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