God-Machines, page 94
‘We wouldn’t want to offend the Lady of Miracles,’ said Garath sourly. Jennika shot him a look.
‘Lady Tan Pegasson’s survival on Donatos was nothing short of a miracle of the Emperor,’ said Percivane. ‘You should strive to maintain the appropriate reverence, Sire Garath.’
‘Besides, I’d like to see you survive a direct hit from a macro-cannon shell,’ said Suset.
‘Yes, all right, all right,’ said Garath wearily. ‘It’s a throne-given miracle, even if it did happen five years ago…’
‘Enough,’ said Danial. ‘Let us go. Now.’
‘Honour guard,’ barked Markos.
The kneeling Knights of House Draconis rose to their feet and formed a marching column behind the Exalted Court. Danial and his comrades set out through the labour camp.
They walked north at a brisk pace, making for where the foothills dug down into the grassy soil of the Valatane. They passed banqueting tents from which workers’ hymnals floated, and passed beneath the fiery glare of the chem-braziers that lit the camp. Labourers and militia parted at their coming, dropping to their knees, bowing respectfully. Beaconflies flittered overhead, little clouds of the glowing insects mimicking the stars beginning to glimmer in the sky.
Chargers and all-terrain groundcars moved aside on the packed-earth roads that ran between the habitents, allowing Danial’s procession to pass. On the encampment’s edges, patrolling Knights sounded their vox-horns, silhouetted giants heralding the High King’s coming.
The ground rose steeply as they pressed on. The immensity of the hydromechanical dam loomed before them. Stretched between two craggy hilltops, it was a vast, dark presence in the twilight, its flanks and crest dotted with glowing lumen and electrobeacons. An enormous aquila with a wingspan of more than a mile was emblazoned across it.
Danial and Jennika pulled a little way ahead. Seeing their desire for private conversation, the rest of the Exalted Court dropped back, speaking amongst themselves.
‘It really is an impressive achievement, Da,’ said Jennika quietly. ‘A monument to your faith and wisdom as High King.’
‘It is a start,’ said Danial. ‘I only wish it were happening quicker. My rule began in such dark circumstances – it may be decades before they are forgotten. If they ever are.’
‘I wish father had been honest with us about all that happened before his succession,’ said Jennika. ‘If the circumstances surrounding the crown passing from House Chimaeros to House Draconis had been public knowledge, we would have watched Baron Gerraint more closely.’
‘He couldn’t have made it public knowledge, Jen, you know that,’ said Danial. ‘To reveal the details of the Yordax Crusade… It would have brought dishonour upon all concerned. Better for the people to believe that the succession had been willingly passed as a mark of respect, than to know the crown was taken as punishment for such gross failures.’
‘Besides, I imagine he felt responsible,’ said Jennika. ‘Even if the failing belonged to King Dyforn Tan Chimaeros.’
‘I’ve been reading a lot into our histories, trying to piece together father’s secrets,’ replied Danial. ‘I’m not sure, but I believe there may be more to it than even Markos knows. Something I’m not sure I want to find.’
‘Like what?’ asked Jennika.
‘I don’t know,’ he said with forced lightness. ‘I may never. The old tomes and scrolls are allegorical and evasive. There are gaps. Though in all that research I did find something fascinating regarding grandfather’s amulet. You must remind me to show you when we get back to the ’spire. I think there are buried heirlooms in the depths that father meant for me to find.’
‘There’s that studious boy that Luk always used to mock,’ laughed Jennika.
‘Speaking of which,’ said Danial, letting the comment hang.
‘I’ve heard nothing from him, Da,’ said Jennika. ‘There was no word at the Draconspire when I passed through on my way here, either. Nor did I expect there to be. Luk is gone, at least for now.’
‘I know, Jen,’ said Danial. ‘And I pray to the Emperor every day that his hunt fares well. If he were to bring us back Alicia’s head, I’m sure that would be a cause for celebration.’
‘Not to mention returning your best friend to you,’ said Jennika with a knowing smile.
‘I don’t deny that I miss his comradeship and his counsel,’ said Danial. ‘Though I am fortunately blessed by the Emperor himself in that respect.’
Jennika glanced back at the rest of the Exalted Court, Suset laughing at some joke of Markos’. She smiled.
‘True enough, brother,’ she said. ‘But greatness begets greatness. You earned these companions.’
‘As have you,’ said Danial. ‘Yet you are so rarely amongst them. I understand the struggle you face, the example you must set if you are to encourage more young ladies of court to Become, and more brothers and fathers to accept that choice. But you are never here.’
‘The Emperor’s wars are never won,’ said Jennika. ‘And though you mean well, brother, I don’t think you do understand the pressures I face. Not truly.’
‘Perhaps not,’ said Danial. ‘But, Jen, I value your guidance. I miss you.’
‘And I you, Da,’ she said. ‘But you have long outgrown your need for me to watch over or protect you. You are the High King of Adrastapol, now, in every thought and deed. As you excel in your kingship, so I wish to truly excel in the role of First Knight. I need you to let me.’
‘Jen,’ said Danial. ‘I will never, ever stand in your way. Just know that you do not have to flee father’s ghost.’
Jennika offered him a crooked smile. ‘Nor am I. I said my goodbyes years ago. If anyone still raises that wraith, it is you.’
Danial drew breath to reply, but at that moment the cyber cherubim of the Heavenly Host swept overhead, blaring tinny fanfares from augmetic trumpets. Danial realised that he stood at the foot of the long, brazier-lit ramp that curved up onto the side of the dam.
‘This will be quite a night,’ he said, glancing back to see the last glimmer of sunset fade from the horizon. The sight gave him a frisson of disquiet, though he couldn’t say why.
‘Let’s go and see the spirits awaken,’ said Lady Suset, smiling as she approached. Together, they headed up the ferrocrete ramp, towards the grand gathering atop the dam.
CHAPTER 3
Houses Draconis and Pegasson gathered in a prefabricated pavilion for the awakening ritual. The structure had been raised at the very centre of the dam, which was over a quarter of a mile thick at its mid-point, and flat-topped aside from the guide-rails along its inner and outer edges. The pavilion looked out across the dark waters of the reservoir, to where generatorums and regulator shrines clustered on the mountain’s lower slopes. Tiers of seating rose from the pavilion’s base, hung with banners and tapestries of the three Noble Houses. A sturdy polyweave awning stretched over it to shield the assembled dignitaries from the elements, hung with electrocandle chandeliers.
The Exalted Court and their escorts climbed gilded steps, scattering to join friends and comrades already thronging the tiers. Leading the entourage, Danial passed Knights and lexographers, priests and courtesans, militia officers, artists, servitors and adepts.
‘It is sad to see the Minotos stands empty,’ said Suset.
‘It’s frustrating,’ agreed Jennika. ‘But at least House Pegasson are here in force.’
‘They’ve sent every Knight and dignitary they could spare,’ said Danial. ‘Just as we have. It’s a sign of the Emperor’s favour.’
‘There is the Marchioness,’ said Suset.
The royal box was above them. It was a formidable structure that jutted out over the seating tiers on a framework of gilded girders. Heraldic servitors were built into its structure, their faces distorted by augmetic speakers that blared hymnals. Their arms were heavy gun-units that tracked over each new arrival without exception.
Poised elegantly at the box’s railing was Lauret Tan Pegasson.
Brigantane, the once court-poet for House Chimaeros, had described the Marchioness as a woman carved from ice and starlight, with a heart to match. Her eyes were expensive augmetics dotted with silver pupils. They replaced her biological orbs that had been destroyed during her near-death on Donatos. Rejuvenat treatments had erased the deep scars from her face, leaving her skin smooth and pale. Her hair was white and swept back from her forehead in a series of elaborate plaits that trailed down her back and mingled with electrocables. The gown she wore was quartered in the ice blue and white of her house. Its cut concealed the bionics that made up much of her body. Lauret’s hands rested on the railing before her, one slender and human, the other a brushed silver masterwork whose inbuilt jewellery pulsed softly.
At her side stood three Knights of her Exalted Court and several other, more unusual figures. These wore hooded cowls, heavy cassocks and warrior vestments. Their faces were scarified and they bore weighty-looking staves. Religious tomes were bound to their bodies with chains. They were festooned with Imperial aquilas, tatters of scrollwork and scripture pinned to their clothing and flesh.
They stared as Danial and his retinue climbed the steps.
‘Marchioness,’ said Danial as he led the way into the royal box. ‘It is truly a pleasure to see you.’
Lauret bowed slightly and favoured him with a reserved smile.
‘High King Danial Tan Draconis,’ she said. ‘You honour my House deeply by your invitation. This is a moment worthy of remembrance, a grand gesture of solidarity.’
‘I am glad that you think so, my lady,’ said Danial.
‘It seems our lord Tan Minotos did not concur?’ asked Lauret.
‘It seems not, but I believe his position is softening,’ replied Danial.
‘He is young,’ said Lauret, turning back to the railing. ‘And he is of old Minotane stock. Stubborn and brave to a fault. Given time I believe that you are correct, my king. Kurt will see sense.’
‘We pray for his enlightenment, lady,’ rumbled one of Lauret’s attendant holymen.
Markos snapped. ‘You’re in the presence of the High King. Hold your peace unless called upon, priest.’
‘My lady, let us speak of more auspicious things,’ said Danial, ignoring the exchange. ‘I believe that Polluxis will begin soon.’
As true nightfall settled in the shadow of the mountains, massive chem-braziers ignited across the water. They threw dancing reflections on the reservoir’s waters, and revealed Sacristans gathered in great number on the opposite bank.
Robed half in the red of the Adeptus Mechanicus and half in the colours of their Noble Houses, the Sacristans made for a sinister sight with their strange, mechanical anatomies and heavy cowls. Cyborg cherubim and servo skulls hovered about them like familiars.
A pair of Sacristan Crawlers sat in their midst. The huge vehicles were nearly as large as Baneblade super-heavy tanks. They rested on armoured balloon tyres and bore the heraldry of House Draconis. Repair armatures and nests of servo arms were folded down atop their bulky hulls, interspersed with esoteric weapons systems and pulsing sensor shrines.
Stood atop one of these vehicles in a gilded pulpit was High Sacristan Polluxis. Clad in a more elaborate version of his comrades’ garb, he raised his arms high. In one hand the High Sacristan held a data-wand, which he flourished. When he spoke, his voice boomed from the vox-amplifiers of the Sacristan Crawlers. His words rolled across the dark waters like thunder.
‘Assembled lords and ladies of Adrastapol, Omnissiah’s blessings upon you. Tonight, you bear witness to a miracle of the Machine-God. I beg your reverent silence for the proceedings that follow. All vox traffic and communications are to be held in cessation for the duration of the ritual, lest they disquiet the machine-spirits or disrupt their divine harmonic frequencies. For High King Danial and the glory of Adrastapol, we begin.’
Danial found the rites of the Omnissiah’s faithful intriguing. Certainly, they were no shorter than the rituals of the Noble Houses, but the binharic chanting, the striking of the runes, and the strange mechanical arcana did more to hold his attention. With each new sluice consecrated and thrown open, Danial felt the rumble of fresh turbines turning within the dam. The subtle shudder was accompanied by plumes of smoke and fire from across the water as generatora and capacitor shrines roared to life.
‘It’s as though they awaken dracons on the far shore,’ murmured Suset. A glance at her enraptured expression told Danial that whatever interest he had in the proceedings, hers eclipsed it. Suset’s duties as Gatekeeper hadn’t dimmed her fascination with the secrets of the Omnissiah, a fact that set her at odds with Polluxis and his order on occasion. As the ritual of awakening entered its third hour, Suset’s eyes shone as brightly as they had when it commenced.
Danial was becoming restless, though years of experience at enduring his own house’s rituals had allowed him to perfect his façade of polite interest. Surreptitiously he glanced along the line of the royal box, hoping to see refreshment servitors moving amongst the stands. Instead, he frowned as distant movement registered in his crown’s auspex feed.
Magnifying his field of vision, he saw a robed adept hurrying along the top of the dam with a bundle of data-parchments clutched to his chest. The young man was challenged by a member of the Draconis militia as he reached the bottom of the pavilion steps. A quiet but animated conversation ensued.
Danial’s concern deepened. A glance at Jennika showed she had seen the same thing. She reached for the vox-bead in her ear, clearly intending to reawaken it. He shook his head. Not yet. It might be something minor.
That hope faded as the men took the steps at a jog, drawing whispers and sidelong glances from the nobles they passed. The pair were challenged by Captain Bannoch, and another exchange occurred beneath the muzzles of several servitor guns.
Bannoch skimmed the contents of the data-parchments and scowled. Across the waters the ritual rumbled on, but few eyes were still upon it. On Adrastapol, sacred rites were not interrupted for anything less than an emergency, and those in the stands knew it. Knights stirred. Bodyguards adjusted their stances and became quietly watchful, as knots of Consorts and Squires whispered together with increasing animation. ‘I’m going to see what this is before any further disruption is caused,’ said Danial.
Before Danial could rise from his throne, Bannoch hurried to his side.
‘King Danial,’ he said, leaning down and speaking quietly but insistently. ‘There is an urgent situation developing.’
‘A threat?’ asked Danial as Jennika reactivated her ear-bead.
‘Potentially, sire,’ said Bannoch. ‘Long range atmospheric auspex has picked up an incoming signature, descending at speed through the upper stratosphere towards this location. It is only minutes away.’
‘And we’re only hearing about this now?’ exclaimed Markos.
‘The auspex-adepts can’t account for it, sire herald,’ replied Bannoch. ‘This warning should have come at least half an hour earlier, but the contact simply appeared on their runebanks. As though from nowhere, as they put it.’
‘This is a question for later,’ said Danial. ‘Do they know what it is?’
‘Unknown, sire,’ said Bannoch. ‘It is too small for a void ship, but is possessed of machine signature. The readings coming off the contact are contradictory.’
‘Could be an attack craft,’ said Jennika.
‘Or a warhead,’ said Markos.
‘Has any attempt been made to hail the contact?’ asked Danial.
Bannoch nodded. ‘Nothing,’ he said.
‘We could intercept?’ asked Suset. ‘With the new aircraft and battery assets we’ve amassed…’
‘That won’t work,’ replied Jennika, listening intently to the chatter on her vox-bead. ‘It’s coming in over the mountains, threading the needle between our battery coverage. It’s either extremely poor fortune on our part, or forward planning on someone else’s. And the combat air patrol relocated southwards to avoid disturbing the ritual. They’re returning at speed, but they’re ten minutes out.’
‘What of your Knights on the piquet?’ asked Danial. ‘Jennika? Lauret?’
The Marchioness had plugged several of the cables from her cranial augmetics into data-ports on one armoured vambrace, and was watching intently as runes scrolled over its surface.
‘My Knights are moving to adopt a shield dispersal, liege, but the angle of approach will make it extremely difficult,’ she said. ‘Attempting to march up onto the dam would be too risky, and from down in the labour camp, even those with Icarus mounts will struggle to get a reliable shot before the contact is on top of us.’
‘The same is true of our Knights,’ said Jennika. ‘In respecting Polluxis’ ritual, we’ve left ourselves open.’
‘We’ve had no hint of danger,’ said Markos. ‘There’s been no warning from the Bastion Fleet, and Adrastapol hasn’t known the touch of hostile forces in three years now. Every possible strategic auto-séance was run for threat simulation in the planning of this event. It’s hardly an ill-judged lapse.’
‘Be that as it may, we must remedy it at once,’ said Danial. He stood, activating the vox-amp in his crown.
‘My lords, ladies and honoured guests,’ he began, his amplified voice carrying across the stands. ‘Please make your way swiftly down from the dam into the labour camp. Knights, awaken your steeds and proceed in full panoply to designated mustering points with weapons unshrouded. All other attendees, evacuation craft will ferry you from landing pads two, three, five and eight. Please proceed to your allotted departure point.’
The response was immediate, and every bit as calm and efficient as he might have hoped. Guarded by house militia, directed gallantly by the Knights in their midst, the worthies of Adrastapol filtered from the stands in good order.
