Fear to Tread

by James Swallow

‘And Kreed’s duplicity in leading us to it can mean only one thing. We have been betrayed.’ ‘Kreed might lack courage,’ said Raldoron, breaking his silence. ‘But he has no reason to lead us to ruin.’ ‘You limit your thinking, First Captain,’ Amit replied. ‘Tanus Kreed is not the architect of this. He’s a follower, not a leader.’ ‘Erebus?’ Azkaellon said the name without thinking. Amit shook his head. ‘I say look higher still, brothers. Who sent us here?’ ‘Choose your next words carefully,’ said the primarch, becoming very still. The captain gave a grunt of humourless laughter. ‘You know that is not my way, master. I must say what I believe, and I believe the Warmaster sent us here with a lie on his lips, with full knowledge of what he–’ Gold armour flashed like lightning and Meros recoiled at the crackling shock of metal on ceramite, the deep rush of white wings snapping against the air. Suddenly Amit was sprawled on the hull with a new impact crater on his careworn armour and Sanguinius standing over him. The Angel moved so fast, the Apothecary had barely registered the movement, sweeping in and knocking Amit down with the pommel of his great sword. The red blade now came about in the primarch’s hands, and the tip rested upon the captain’s bared throat. ‘You will beg forgiveness for casting such aspersions on my brother Horus,’ he spat, his expression thunderous, ‘and then I will cut this armour from you and mark you for punishment.’ The icy rage with which the threat was...