Secret War: Warhammer 40,000 by Ben Agar (reading eggs books TXT) 📖

our medicae," said Karmen as she began to untie him. "We don't want our guide to be in bad shape."

"You just don't want them to see the condition your lackeys left me in," growled No One of Consequence." Which I also knew, without doubt, to be true.

Karmen leaned her head over his shoulder and briefly pulled the ropes tighter, causing No One of Consequence to gasp out in pain,

"Same, difference, really," she said sweetly. "Now, Attelus, can you help me here."

"O-okay," I stammered and moved to comply.

 

 

It had stopped raining while we walked back to Taryst's tower. The going was slow as Garrakson, Torris, and the ten Stormtrooper escort checked every inch of every corner of the maze of twists and turns, which made those alleyways with a zeal that would put even the most overzealous Ministorum priest to shame. Also, Castella, Hayden, and Darrance watched the back, but in a far more casual fashion. Castella had her left hand laid on her the hilt of one of her sheathed swords, while in her right was her raised plasma pistol. Hayden held his Long Las low; the barrel pointed at the ground while Darrance had his ornate, curved power scimitar drawn but carried it casually at his side.

I was happy to let them guard; I was too preoccupied with my churning stomach, my painful throbbing face and my thoughts.

The three assassins were easily, far more intimidating and professional than Torris, Garrakson and the Stormtroopers combined; their casual confidence just added to it somehow. They were skilled extremely; I've seen all three at work during my seven years under Glaitis' employ and knew this well.

But yet, despite this, I knew even they paled in comparison to my father.

Serghar Kaltos could easily slaughter all three before they could even blink. With this, my thoughts wandered back to my dream, the one I fought mono a mono against my father and defeated him.

I looked down and clenched my gloved fist. Could I one day be that good? By the Emperor, it would take a while, although.

Again, I glanced over my shoulder at the senior assassins. However, I had sparred against my father on countless occasion; I'd never actually saw him at his full strength, he was always toying with me, but still, he'd always defeat me with ease.

While he was undoubtedly useful, perhaps I was overestimating Serghar Kaltos actual skill?

Perhaps I was even underestimating my own? While I doubted I was as good as Serghar Kaltos, perhaps I was on par with Castella, Darrance and Tresch? In the last six months, I'd seen more action than many veteran guardsmen would see in years; I must've killed dozens of hammers on the edge of my sword. I must've learned something from all of that crap, even if those months of toil and killing now turned out to be utterly useless.

Then I looked to No One of Consequence, who stumbled handcuffed and blindfolded beside me. I had also gone one on one against him, a man who must be a very experienced throne agent and almost came out on top, then I had held off a rampaging Arco Flagellant long enough to allow everyone in the Twilight bar to escape with their lives.

I did not doubt that now, that I'd somehow accomplished that seemingly implausible feat. Not a shadow of a doubt, Elandria wouldn't have lied, especially if it were her last words.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose; I missed her. Would I ever get over her? I would, I would, one day, without doubt, I'd get over her untimely death, but I wouldn't forget her.

My heart suddenly hurt, and my hand reached up to touch the bandage on my face; I'd surely never forget her, especially with this forever marring my face.

This made me quietly sigh and shake my head, now wasn't the time to be lost in thought! Or as Elandria would've said: 'lost in my little world.'

I smiled sadly at the thought, and then I noticed Karmen was looking over her shoulder at me, her large blue eyes wide with concern.

I met her gaze, giving her a slight smile and a nod. In all honesty, of all the people involved in this, I understood her motivations the least. During our time together in the war-ravaged Velrosia, while we travelled south, I'd gotten to know Estella Erith well. She was a kind woman with great charisma and intellect but was extremely passionate and proud. It'd been that pride which had almost driven her to throw her life away, once.

But now, as I stated before, I think Karmen Kons is an entirely different creature; sure, the pride was still there; in fact, I'd say it was even worse, but she was also far more cruel, ruthless, manipulative, controlling.

A sudden shudder climbed up my spine as another realisation hit me; she was just like Glaitis.

But yet, sometimes, I'd see hints of Estella Erith break through the Karmen Kons persona when her dialogue became more formalised or at times like this. The concern with which she looked at me now was genuine. Genuine in a way Glaitis could never hope to be. I could tell this because it wasn't Karmen looking at me; it was Estella. How I knew, I truly didn't know, I just did.

Estella gave me a great big grin that made my heart flutter, then turned back forward.

The rest of the trip went without incident, which surprised me. If there were a time that Brutis Bones and his secret squad of crack commandos to strike, it'd have been now, while their erstwhile ally was being escorted out in the open and despite everything, I felt like I never wanted it to end. It did, of course, but it was the last time of peace and contemplation I had before everything went to hell in a handcart.

And by the Emperor now, that was indeed the understatement of the millennia.

 

 

I sat stripped to the waist, sitting on a gurney in the medical facility, the big black bruises covering my torso a stark contrast to my pale white skin. I tried hard to ignore the pain as medicae-assistant Hasin stitched up my face for all the frigging good it'd do.

There were five medicaes, hired by Taryst excluding Feuilt; the four others were now busy attending to no one of consequence. While Garrakson and everyone else stood to watch, everyone but Karmen, who had said, "I need to retrieve something of the utmost importance," then left alone.

"I am sorry to say," said Halsin as he carefully added another stitch. "Your face will be permanently scarred, no matter how many stitches I do. You would have been scarred permanently, even without the trauma you suffered to open it and make it worse. Can I ask, how did it happen?"

My jaw twitched. "My cheek was cut by a monomolecular enhanced blade," I informed with forced neutrality. "Then I was punched in the face, a hell of a lot."

Halsin nodded; he was tall and thin and couldn't have been much older than I was, with a gaunt, sallow face and large bulging, thyroid eyes that looked even larger from behind his thick glasses. I hadn't met him before, as Feuilt was the only medicae I had contact with until now.

"And I am assuming that is all the information you are going to give?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, Halsin had given me some chewy tablets to help with my sick stomach, but it either hadn't kicked in yet or wasn't working at all, as another strong wave of nausea hit me.

"And then I am going to assume, again. That you won't tell me what happened to head medicae Feuilt, after you, him and major Olinthre left suddenly around six hours ago?"

"Yes," I repeated.

Halsin sighed. "I had thought as much; I should be used to it by now; everything is a secret around here."

I furrowed my brow; I would've thought of something deadpanned and ironic too...Think of Halsin stating the obvious, but I felt him just saying it was enough.

"Well," he said on. "Well, even if you're scarred, you can still wear a layer of false flesh over the scar."

I shrugged slightly, being careful not to disturb Halsin's work with the movement, in all honesty. I didn't mind the scar until now. I had been able to avoid being heavily scarred during my career, even after going through some particularly heavy engagements.

Then the door slid open, and in walked Karmen Kons; her long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, she was grinning from ear to ear and now wore battered black flak armour with white trim and was carrying behind her back a long, blue ornate box.

I immediately recognised the armour; it was the uniform of the Velrosian branch of the Elbyran Planetary defence force she once served in as a sergeant. It was the same armour Estella Erith had worn the first time I'd met her, a lifetime ago now.

She nodded to me and quickly approached the gurney.

"Almost done, Halsin?" She asked.

Halsin paused in his work, glanced at her and blushed distinctly, "j-just finishing now, mamzel."

Karmen smiled, placed her hands on her hips and nodded. "Thank you. I wish to talk to Attelus in private, please."

"O-of course, mamzel!" he cried as he after quickly finishing the stitches and placing on a new bandage. "It seems that none of your ribs were broken, Mr Kaltos, although I can tell by the density of your bruising that the impacts of those punches should have broken at least a few of your bones. I really do not know what that psyker did to you, Mr Kaltos, but it did not just re-nit your bones; it also somehow made them stronger."

Before I could make a reply, Halsin hurriedly turned, nodded to Karmen and walked out.

My eyes widened, not sure quite what to make of Halsin's words. My bone structure was enhanced? But how? Why? Just as I thought this couldn't get any stranger, it just did.

Karmen pouted, still looking at the door, then turned back to me.

"He is an interesting one, that, Halsin," she said absent-minded, then suddenly shoved the blue box right in front of my face.

"For you," she stated.

I hesitantly took the box with a nervous grin and looked over it; it was made from high-quality wood and was ornate but not overly.

"Aren't you going to open it?" She asked.

I did, quickly unclasping the metal clips and opened it, inside I found to my minimal surprise, a sword, a sheathed longsword, in a simple scabbard, with a basic but practical handle and guard.

I looked up at her, wide-eyed, "I uh..."

"Unsheathe it," she said encouragingly. "And don't worry, Attelus, it's yours ."

Nodding, I slowly took the sword out of the box and immediately, I could tell it was lightweight and balanced even before drawing it, which in the blink of an eye, I did.

It was a sword of masterful make; I could tell that at a glance. It was also of Velrosian design. The blacksmiths of Velrosia had always adhered to simplicity in design, but the quality of make and this one was of the highest quality even to Velrosian standards.

It was also old, very, very old, yet exceptionally well maintained.

But that wasn't what got me; what made me blink was that it was also a powersword.

"It was my family's," informed Karmen, knocking me out of my reverie. "It had been handed down the Erith line for generations, even since the time of King Royd Antares."

I looked at her, taken aback. "This, this is over a thousand years old?"

She nodded. "That it is, Attelus or that is what my grandfather and father said, anyway."

"I-I," I managed. "I can't take this; this is yours! This is your family's!"

Karmen smiled and shook her head. "No, Attelus, it's yours. I am the last alive of the Erith line, and I gave up a long time ago on practising Valisuth. It deserves someone with skill enough to wield it, and