Venenum Filios Chapter 10

Through the thick jungle came the thunder of crashes and tearing wood, the screech of roots ripping out of the wet ground and the thuds of boughs hitting the ground. Small animals and birds fled before the oncoming destruction, racing to get away from the wave of devastation. It moved inexorably, neither pausing nor relenting, nothing slowed it and nothing could stand before it.

The cause of this destruction was a line of gigantic beasts, huge animals whose bulk and weight spelt doom to any obstacle before them. They were Megasaurs, half a dozen of them, moving through the jungle like ships breaking through waves. These were fully mature adults and they were truly huge. They boasted legs wider than any tree trunk and their heads ploughed into the jungle canopy, pushing it aside with ease.

These animals did not need to walk around trees or copses, they simply went straight through them. Between their bony skulls and massive legs anything they hit simply went over, torn in two or crushed underfoot. They left a wide trail of destruction in their wake, a long line of broken boughs and toppled trees, creating a trail a blind man could follow. On each of their backs were wooden howdahs, broad platforms which currently held the weight of the Storm Heralds. The unvarnished wood creaked and groaned under the weight of armoured Transhumans but it was holding, for now. So huge were these Megasaurs that each one could hold a whole squad of Astartes above the canopy and between them they carried all the Storm Heralds who had woken up in time to come to the planet, some sixty Brothers.

On the back of one Megasaur Persion was standing with his weapons in hand. He swayed slightly with the motion of the beast, but it was no worse than a boat on the ocean wave. It was standard protocol to be armed in hostile territory, a practice he agreed with for they must be ready for action in a heartbeat. So the squads stood in a ring, facing out in all directions with weapons ready. Persion was alert but the Megasaur's sheer bulk and height sent most creatures into a panic. Not even the most vicious local predator, of which there were many, dared to face these beasts. Taming these beasts was how humanity had survived on this harsh planet, thriving amid the damp boughs and teeming dangers.

Persion breathed deeply and his nose filled with the overpowering scent of oozing sap and squashed leaves, creating a thick mix of wet smells. His enhanced senses told him that the local wood was damp and pliable, easily broken but fast growing. He knew in a few weeks the jungle would have grown back and the trail they were leaving would be completely erased. No wonder the local inhabitants were nomadic, if they stopped anyplace too long the jungle would reclaim their homes from under them.

Persion felt memories stir within him, triggered by the cloying scents. Long lost childhood moments, fighting with siblings, grubbing for tasty insects in the underbrush, running from fast predators in the darkness. For a moment he considered that he might still have family out there somewhere, then he shook it off. He was an Astartes, the Storm Heralds were his family now and evermore. Besides he had been fighting for the Emperor for just over a century and a half, the chances of anyone he used to know still being alive were vanishingly small.

He was distracted by the voice of Novak saying, "This is strange, I can't imagine a more bizarre way to get around."

Persion commented, "Be grateful, it keeps the carnivores away. Without these we would be attacked every step of the way, it would take days to make this journey. Even for us."

Novak said, "It just feels wrong."

Persion snorted in derision and said, "Now you know how I felt the I first time I stepped onto a boat. All that open water on Lujan II, it was the most shocking thing I had ever seen."

Their conversation was interrupted by Brother Jediah calling, "Captain, I request permission to take the reins."

Persion didn't take his eyes off the jungle but he heard Toran sound surprised as he said, "For what purpose?"

Jediah responded, "To learn how to do it."

Wrethan's voice growled, "We are not here for your amusement, an Astartes' duty is a most serious calling, we do not indulge in personal frivolities."

Jediah however countered, "My concern is tactical, if these mortal guides get themselves killed then we must have Brothers experienced in handling these beasts."

Toran's voice hid an undercurrent of amusement as he replied, "Ah yes, sound tactical thinking Brother. Very well you may drive for a bit."

Persion glimpsed over and saw Jediah eagerly stow his bolt pistol and Fractal-edged short sword. He practically leapt to the front and elbowed aside the mortal steering the Megasaur, taking up the ropes with gleeful élan. He held the reins tightly and focused on the path, eagerly steering the Megasaur into the largest trees he could find, knocking them over one by one.

Persion looked back outwards but then Furion leaned over and whispered, "I do believe that's the first time I've seen Jediah enjoying anything that didn't involve killing somebody."

"Next he'll be asking permission to strap Heavy Bolters onto the sides," Persion snorted, "But we should let him have his moment, we need something to keep everybody's spirits up."

Furion nodded and said, "I know, tensions are high. This Phage is stressing the Company in strange ways; I've never seen Astartes so jittery. The Captain looks lost, Wrethan is hiding something, Jediah's smiling and Mylos is being… nice."

Persion glanced over and saw Sergeant Mylos standing on the next beast over. It was indeed odd, the Sergeant had been nothing but helpful since their chat, a most unusual state of affairs. Persion didn't know how to process that, he was far more used to seeing Mylos as a soured soul filled with resentment.

Persion sighed, "We are not built for this kind of fight. To wither and twist from within is not a fate worthy of an Astartes. Give us a horde of Khorne Berserkers and we know exactly how to fight and die, but this is totally outside our experience. I am covered in a rash and I can feel it getting worse, soon the mutations will come. I don't want that, I don't want to end up looking like some Chaos scum, corrupt in body and mind, I'd rather die first."

"Rest assured I won't let that happen," Furion answered, "When the time comes then I will kill you myself."

"Thank you Brother," Persion said in genuine relief, "I knew I could count on you."

They returned to their vigil, watching the jungle pass by as the Megasaurs plodded along. They weren't fast but they were inexorable, nothing slowed their pace and they proceeded at a steady lumber. Soon a craggy mound emerged ahead, soaring over the jungle canopy. It was a lone spire of rock, rising vertically from the vegetation like a watchtower over a fertile plain.

The slopes had seen the touch of man, there were faint faces carved into the slopes and lumpy figures. Once they may have been towering statues but the passage of millennia had worn them down until they were merely half-formed silhouettes, with only the vaguest impression of men left behind. In one side of the crag was a large crack, a vertical slit that gaped wide, leading to a large cavern within.

The Megasaurs were steered into that crack, passing into the darkness within. As they entered the cavern Bylan said, "+This is impressive, you could fit a Titan in here+"

Persion replied, "You wish, this was made merely for Knight engines. The surviving keeps are claimed by off-worlders, they are used as trade stations and the home for the Astropaths."

"Speaking of which," Furion interjected, "Looks like we were expected."

The Megasaurs were brought to a halt by hard yanks on the reins and Persion saw a small crowd in the cavern. There were no lumen orbs or other technology present so they were illuminated by small lamps, hung from long poles carried by retainers. There were a score of people below, in threadbare robes with fading symbols inscribed upon them. One person, an elderly woman, was being carried in a wicker chair, borne on the shoulders of four stout natives.

As the Megasaurs stopped the Astartes gathered together, then dismounted. They didn't need rope ladders, they simply stepped off the howdahs and dropped to the ground. Persion hit the dirt and kicked up a cloud of dust as he did so, staining his proud colours with grime.

He followed the Captain up to the group but before anyone could speak the woman called in a croaky voice, "I know why you're here."

Persion blinked as he saw that the woman had no eyes and her robes were hemmed with icons of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica. This was unusual, Astropaths tended to live short, troubled lives. The pressure of their psychic labours burned them out fast and only the most powerful of their breed lived to old age.

Toran wasn't put out by the greeting and said, "I am Captain Toran, Third Company, Storm Heralds Chapter."

"Ah yes," the old woman croaked, "Forgive me, I've been living among the heathens so long that I've forgotten my manners. Welcome my lord, I am Hestia Vaar, Chief Astropath of the Trux Choir and these wastrels are my disciples and acolytes. I won't bother telling you their names; there's no point since you will never see any of them again."

Persion was set back by the pronouncement, the Astropath spoke not out of scorn but certainty. Could it be that her psychic gifts including prophecy?

Wrethan was undaunted and stepped up to say, "You know why we are here?"

Hestia nodded her eyeless head and pronounced, "You are beset on all sides and ill-fate looms all around. You seek salvation in the forgotten past, yet there are perils awaiting you that you do not expect, for the greatest danger comes not from without but from within."

Persion sensed a shiver run through the assembled squads, was she talking about the Phage, had she seen it in a vision? Feats of psychic endeavour set them on edge, no matter how Sanctioned they were no Psyker would ever be accepted or fully trusted in the Imperium. Wrethan seemed to agree and spat, "We are not here for vague Prophecy, but directions. We seek the source of this."

Wrethan held up a data-slate, displaying the image of a Golden Chalice. Hestia had no eyes but reacted as if she could see it anyway, she peered at it and said, "So the mystery reveals itself. That is a legend among the heathens, but it has a true origin. When I was young I came to this world and heard a tale from the eldest Astropath. Many, many seasons ago dark horrors fell to the earth and wreaked a terrible slaughter in the jungle. They claimed a lost Keep for themselves and drove out all who lived within its shadow. They disappeared soon after but left that mark behind as a warning. So great was the slaughter that no one has dared test the warning since, to this day the heathens avoid that place as being cursed."

Persion blinked, that sounded like a Codex sweep and clearance, standard practice when setting up a forward base of operations. Could it be, had renegade Astartes really set foot on Trux?

Toran declared, "Sounds promising, we shall investigate it."

Hestia said, "Are you sure? You will not expect what you shall find there. You can yet turn back and find some honourable war to die in. If you follow this course then you shall be tested, you shall find that those who seem the brightest harbour dark thoughts and those who seem darkest yet harbour light in their souls."

Persion had no idea what that meant but Wrethan growled, "Give us less in the way of metaphor and more in the way of co-ordinates."

"I was being poetic," snapped Hestia, "Fine then, take your Megasaurs south for three days until you find a river, follow it upstream for five more days and you will find the lost keep of House Viperae. There you shall find your fate, either way."

"Good," declared Toran, "We shall set off immediately."

As the Company returned to their Megasaurs Persion heard Hestia call out, "Remember what I said, the greatest danger comes from within!"