Incantator Congressus Chapter 31

"A Daemon contacted you?" came the incisive question from Ghyrun.

Arvael caught the accusatory tone but refused to be browbeaten as he replied, "He sent me a projection, I did not ask for nor desire to converse with an agent of Chaos."

"If you lie then your life is forfeit," Sythah hissed, "To seek the counsel of Daemons is to embrace damnation."

"I'm telling you he sent me the message uninvited!" Arvael snapped.

The others didn't look convinced, as well they shouldn't. Librarians understood the peril of the warp better than any, and any hint of Chaos' association was damning evidence of taint. Arvael had stuck his head into the noose by revealing the conversation with Harbinger, but he knew to try to hide it would be worse. By his own judgement those who concealed possible taint were already damned.

Thankfully Jhur said, "Let's assume for the moment he speaks truth and consider the message."

"My thanks," Arvael breathed in relief.

"Only speaking hypothetically boy, if you are tainted I'll rip your head off and spit down your neck. So, what did this Harbinger have to say?"

Arvael glared at him but answered, "The Daemon claimed to be behind the attack, boasting of his triumph. Harbinger claims to have captured Master Echeb and plans to sacrifice him. Harbinger offered to spare his life, and yours, if I agreed to become its host. Stop looking at me like that. No, I didn't agree, I rejected it outright, I will always reject it."

The others shared loaded glances as the news broke. They were still in their little gully, as safe as anywhere could be at the moment. Jubila was downstream and no other roving bands of hunters were nearby, while the dim sky was clear of aerial spies. This was as good a place as any to share the news and consider how they were going to react.

Chamat rubbed his chin and mused, "Distressing news, but not the worst possible outcome. If the Neverborn knew where we were then he wouldn't have bothered sending a missive, we'd be up to our eyeballs in Possessed."

Arvael glared fiercely as he spat, "Didn't you hear me, Harbinger claims to have captured Echeb!"

"And you believed the words of a Neverborn?" Ashuay scoffed, "Daemons are lies incarnate."

"He wasn't lying about this," Arvael hissed, "I would have known."

"A truthseer you are not," Imix interjected, "Yet greater than what the Daemon said, are the things he did not say. What did he reveal of his purpose here?"

Arvael's eyes fell as he confessed, "Nothing, only vague suggestions of plots against the Regent. I... didn't think to press the point."

"Of course you didn't," Jhur snorted, "Harbinger got you all riled up with talk of your master and you blew your top in a fit of pique. The Daemon played you like a fiddle."

Ghyrun's dark eyes glimmered as he said, "Hunting Daemon-kind is a subtle art. Tell us what else you saw, the minor details, seemingly insignificant things. The smallest slip could betray vital clues."

Arvael thought about it and replied, "He had a host body, unchanged in form, no bird-like limbs, no beak. It was human mostly, frail and weak. I wouldn't have known he was a Daemon, unless it told me. And it had these two mutant antennas..."

"Wait a damned second!" Jhur cried, "This antenna-mutant, was he dressed in rags?"

"Errr... Yes."

"Little guy, squirrely as Necromundian tunnel-eel?"

"That sounds right," Arvael concurred.

Jhur lips drew back and he snarled, "That frakking whoreson bastard. Dung-eating, grox-fondling mother-loving knave!"

"Jhur, you have met it?" Chamat probed.

"Too right I did. Before the grox-dung hit the extraction port, Hyhush and I detected something amiss outside Inquisitor Dago's quarters and ran into the little freak. Hyhush knew there was something off about him, but we never suspected there was a Daemon hiding in that bag of bones. Throne curse me for an idiot, it was right in front of me and I had not the wit to see it. Harbinger must have been laughing his head off as we strolled away. I am the court jester to the fop-king of the Empire of idiots!"

Imix turned to Arvael and said, "This at least clears your name. If Jhur could not see the Daemon right in front of him, then you could not have known it was present."

"Looks like we won't have to kill you after all," Ashuay scoffed.

"I thought we'd moved past that," Arvael muttered sullenly.

Sythah looked thoughtful as he mused, "Dago... that name has weight. The one who brought the Gladius out of hiding..."

"You suspect he is involved?" Ghyrun probed.

"If so then this is beyond a mere opportunistic attack. Harbinger orchestrated all of this, the Gladius, the Congress, our arrivals, the attack... we dance like puppets upon the strings of Chaos."

"That doesn't matter!" Arvael spat, "We have to rescue Echeb!"

Everyone looked at him like he had grown another head and Chamat retorted, "Do what?"

"Master Echeb's life hangs in the balance," hissed Arvael.

"So?" Chamat sniffed.

"So we must assault Harbinger's position and save him!" Arvael cried.

Jhur shook his head and muttered, "You want to go to Harbinger?"

"Not to accept its bargain," Arvael corrected, "Harbinger thinks he's clever but in overconfidence let slip his location. We should come at them in fury and power and break them. Harbinger thinks I will bargain, but won't be expecting a full-on assault."

"I can't tell, is he jesting or is he actually as stupid as he sounds?" Jhur exclaimed.

Imix sighed deeply and said, "Arvael you are young and brave, but foolish to think you can outwit a Daemon. Harbinger spins lies like a spider, catching you in its web of deceit. Every avenue of escape you see is merely a cunning bait to lure you to your doom. You must accept Harbinger is cleverer than you, it will always be cleverer than you."

"I don't understand," Arvael gasped in confusion, "I rejected Harbinger's offer."

Ghyrun snorted, "Harbinger knows you, better than you do yourself. There is no way a Greater Deamon would 'let slip' anything it did not intend to. Harbinger knew you would reject its offer, it wanted you to deny the bargain and applaud yourself for your righteous character. Then, head swollen with arrogance, go haring straight at it, taking the Gladius Incandor straight into its reach."

Arvael saw their meaning and realised they were right. His impulsive decision had made him forget the weight on his back and nearly take the relic into the hands of the enemy. His course was clear but he could not imperil the blade, it above all must remain safe. Knowing what he must do Arvael reached up and pulled the blade from his back, awkwardly sliding its length out of the sheath. He held the blade out to Chamat and said, "You must take this burden, while I go rescue Echeb."

Sythah shook his head and said, "And still you play into harbinger's hands. Even without the blade you know too much of our numbers, powers and disposition. You may not mean to, but you will give the Daemon everything it needs to find and end the rest of us."

"I would die before I betray you," Arvael avowed.

"You will most certainly die," Ghyrun hissed, "And then Harbinger will tear into your corpse and pluck the knowledge from your cooling neurons. No, you cannot do this."

Chamat hefted the blade as he sniffed, "Too right, I have no wish to face a zombie Arvael, steered by a Daemon."

Arvael was incensed and cried, "My Master's life hangs in the balance and you quibble over possibilities. Has it not occurred to you Harbinger wants us to bicker, while he enacts some scheme. Echeb is my master, I must save him. It is a matter of honour!"

"Honour?!" Sythah snorted in derision, "Honour is for initiates, not Librarians. We forsake honour, so our brothers may bask in its warmth."

Ghyrun added, "To be a Librarian is to make the hard choices, so others do not have to. We shield their honour with our lives, but we do not partake in it."

Arvael retorted, "Then stay and wallow in your disgrace, this is too much. I will not abide this!"

"Neither will I," Jhur declared, "If you go I'm coming too."

Arvael was immensely grateful for the show of support and said, "It would be a privilege to fight beside you."

"I'm coming too," Ashuay proclaimed, "I'm sick of running, I want to kick some Daemon arse!"

"This is foolish," Sythah hissed.

"You will halve our numbers and weaken the defence of the blade," Ghyrun spat.

"Count me out," Chamat uttered.

So they stood divided, half for rescuing Echeb, half against. The decision weighed heavily on Arvael but if this was what must be then it must be. They would dare to rescue Echeb, while the rest protected the Gladius Incandor. He wished it could be otherwise, but their minds were set, all save for one.

Imix inhaled loudly then proclaimed, "Nobody shall go anywhere."

"What?!" Arvael spat in outrage.

"Echeb's is lost to us. His life is over, we cannot change this, not if we numbered thirty, instead of seven. To try is the counsel of stubborn pride. You must accept he is dead already and focus on your duty alone."

"Imix, I can't believe you are saying this. You have ever been an ally to the Storm Heralds, to abandon us now is to forsake our sworn oaths. If Captain Toran was here he would not hesitate to lead the rescue himself!"

Imix retorted, "Toran is not here, you are and you must see the truth! Harbinger toys with you as the Carnodon does the mouse. He lures you into a trap and you follow the scent without a care. The Daemon is cunning, it uses your love for your master against you. Harbinger is counting on you being the noble son of the Storm Spirit, and so your doom is set."

Arvael was taken aback and gasped, "But Echeb is my master."

"And he will always be so. Stern, unyielding and defiant to the last, this was the heart of Echeb. Remember his teachings and ask what counsel he would offer, were he here."

Arvael was brought up short as the ugly truth hit him in the face. Echeb would never concede to foolish passion. Time and again he had chided Arvael for emotional acts, reprimanding his sentimentality and rushed decisions. Echeb would not thank Arvael for rescuing him, not if it endangered the Gladius Incandor, he would strip the skin off the youth's back for even proposing such a thing. There was no denying it, were the tables turned Echeb would leave Arvael to die. To protect the blade and their gene-father, last chance for the Imperium, no price was too high. To save mankind, their honour must be forfeit.

Arvael lowered his eyes and whispered, "Damnation... you are right. Echeb would order us to leave him behind and not look back."

Imix placed his hand on the youth's shoulder and said, "Duty... ever the harshest road to walk but one that must be followed."

"So... we're not going?" Jhur asked.

"Apparently not," Ashuay sighed.

Chamat hefted the Gladius and urged, "If we're done arguing can we get going? I'm amazed half the planet hasn't heard us shouting."

"Aye, let's get out of here," Jhur allowed as he set off.

Everyone fell in as they resumed their flight but Arvael's hearts were wracked with misery. He had abandoned his master and all claim to honour. He knew the life of a Librarian was harsh and filled with spite, but this was bitterness he had never expected. For once he was dearly glad his comrades from Third Company were not here to see him. They would never have understood this decision, nor agreed with it. But this secret shame would burn him evermore, a disgrace he would carry to his dying day.