Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 65

He dropped the knife and let it fall to the mud, covered in blood stains. His breath rasped inside the confines of his helm, the internal air supply roaring in his ears as his body laboured to restore itself. Below him the body of the White Scar commander fell still as blood gushed out of the immense gash in the throat, the transhuman blood mixing with the methane in the atmosphere to create strange colours. Around him the battle of Lorthal raged on, purple and white figures clashing in the murky haze but Reddam saw none of it.

He had slain a fellow loyalist Space Marine; he had killed one of the Emperor's Finest. In a long lifetime a Reddam had killed countless Heretic and Xenos, he had fought Traitors, renegades and misguided fools without a qualm. He had slain those who turned against the Golden Throne and those who refused to bend the knee, with pride and hatred even those from his own Chapter who embraced Heresy. In shameful moments he had slain innocents and steadfast Guardsmen, but that wasn't the same, they had been necessary acts and the lives lost had been doomed regardless. But this Astartes was different, a noble warrior hero, a champion of the Imperium and a gloried warrior. This one had stood for all that was good and right in the galaxy, he was truly the best of men and Reddam had killed him. What did that make Reddam, he asked himself, had he crossed the line and become the renegade all others held his kind to be.

Reddam didn't know how long he sat staring at the corpse but suddenly Shrios came running out of the fog shouting, "Reddam, snap out of it, we have got to go!"

Reddam blinked in confusion as he said, "What?"

"Emperor Wept," Shiros barked as he shoved Reddam hard, "Get it together, Coluber is falling back, we are evacuating!"

Reddam's heart felt like a stone but he was yet an Astartes, hardened and Hypno indoctrinated for battle. Walls of self-control slammed down, shunting his recriminations into a tiny box and his body leapt into motion. His eyes scoured the ground for a weapon but his bolter was in pieces. Bereft of any arms he grabbed the only thing he could see, the White Scar's spear and held it in both hands as he rose to his feet and followed the Apothecary.

Flashes of light surrounded them, exchanges of bolt fire mixed with the roars of bike engines and Reddam shouted, "They won't let us go so easily!"

Shrios shouted back, "Then we fight our way out, either we reach the evac shuttles or we die here. There are no other options."

Reddam gripped his new spear in his hands and his heart trembled at the thought of killing more loyal Brothers. Yet he shoved his misgivings aside and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. He focused solely on the fight to come but at the back of his mind a tiny voice whispered that this day would haunt his nights and the guilt would follow him evermore. Suddenly the ground shook, buffeting him madly. That wasn't right, he didn't remember an earthquake on Lorthal. The world was breaking up before his eyes, images dissolving into hash and nothingness. Reddam tried to make out anything but his eyes were confused, he seemed to be looking at a tree. That's wasn't right, trees didn't grow on Lorthal. Then it hit him, he wasn't on Lorthal, he was on Athelling and Glord was shaking him awake.

"Wha…" Reddam hissed but was cut off as Glord's hand clamped over his mouth and he frantically put a finger to his lips. Reddam blinked in confusion as the world righted itself. He found himself laying flat on his back, covered in leaves and staring up at the soaring canopy far above. His back itched and his chest was cold and wet from blood loss while his throat screamed for water, but his instincts demanded he be silent. At his side Glord lay under a pile of heaped leaves and brush, obviously having piled it up over the both of them.

Reddam tried to grasp what had compelled him to do this, then he saw it. Flapping a half-kilometre over his head a green flying beast was passing by, its rider scouring the floor below. It was an Eldar and it was looking for them. Reddam bit down on the urge to ask questions, the hunter was far too close to risk speaking aloud. Normally he would have discounted the chances of a visual sweep catching them from so high above but Eldar senses were keener than any human's, even an Astartes'. Reddam heard his hearts thumping loudly in his chest and was amazed the Eldar couldn't hear it too. Yet the hunter flew away in a straight line, heading further into the forest without any indication that it had seen them.

After a moment Glord sat up, spilling leaves from his body as he said, "That was close, we can't stay here."

Reddam felt gruff hands grabbing his body as Glord heaved him up and asked, "How long was I out?"

Glord pulled him upright and said, "Another day, I thought you weren't going to make it."

Reddam could barely stand, even with assistance but still asked, "How much further?"

"Not far," Glord explained, "If we push ourselves we can be back at base within a day. I don't think anyone else has made it this far, I haven't seen any other humans for hours."

Reddam opened his mouth to ask if they should risk a vox call, but at that exact moment a trio of Eldar bounded from behind a tree and charged at them. They were riding two-legged beasts with snapping fangs and they wielded long lances with expert skill. Reddam's hand flashed to Glord's belt and grabbed the bolt pistol hanging there but before his trembling arm could rise he was thrown from his feet. Glord heaved Reddam to the ground and lifted the spear in both hands, meeting the Eldar with the point.

Reddam gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and lines of fire encompassed his ribs but all he could see was Glord meeting the Xenos blade to blade. The first lance came at him but Glord knocked it away with a lateral swipe, then he dodged the snapping fangs of the mount that followed after. Only a Space Marine could move with such speed and surety, a mortal could never have evaded with such skill and the Eldar were dumbfounded by their prey's unexpected agility. The riders let out a wild yell as they swept about, trying to stab the warrior with their lances but Glord was in too close to hit. The spear's point gouged a line of blood alongside the flank of a mount, while the butt cracked against a knee, forcing one of the beasts to stagger. The Xenos screamed insults at the lone warrior but Glord ducked and weaved between their blows, using the confusion to his advantage as he yelled, "Ave Imperator!"

Glord was doing well but for all his skill and speed he was still outnumbered three to one and the Eldar had him surrounded. A lance scored over his shoulder, showering blood from a vicious slice. Glord spun on his heel and tried to fight back but another lance caught him a slashing blow to the flank, then the third lashed over the back of his leg, dropping him to one knee. Glord parried and denied but he was surrounded and outnumbered, he couldn't cover his own back and frankly his skill with a spear was dubious at best. He was a heavy weapon trooper, not a melee fighter.

Laying prone upon the ground Reddam saw his Brother's distress and knew he was witnessing Glord's death throes. In moments a fatal blow would land and that would be his end. A surge of denial welled up within Reddam, after everything he had seen and done he was about to watch Glord die. Glord, who had carried him through hostile territory, always having a ready laugh and a cheerful attitude. Reddam wouldn't let that happen, he couldn't allow it and the thought brought with it a wave of righteous anger. Hot rage flowed through Reddam and lent him its power.

He gritted his teeth and set his shoulder straight as he fought to lift his right arm. Pain and weakness clawed at him, the wound in his chest trying to steal his strength and drag his arm back down, but Reddam refused to yield. Reddam was Astartes, his will was iron and his determination unbreakable. His injury was the enemy and he would meet it with the same defiance and rage as he would any other. He focussed everything he had into lifting his right arm, drawing his bolt pistol into alignment and then he fired. A percussive bang shot forth as the pistol fired, the recoil sending his arm skidding away but he managed to get off a trio of shots before the pistol shook itself from his numb hand.

In his injured state Reddam's aim was atrocious, his targeting poorer than the rawest aspirant on the firing range. Two bolts went sailing off into nothing but the third clipped one of the mounts, ripping away a few scales. The bolt didn't explode inside the target but instead flew away but the impact caused the beast to jerk aside, stung by the shot. The trio of Eldar reared back, startled by the unexpected shot and at that moment Glord swung low, cleaving the mount's leg off. The Eldar toppled with a scream, thrashing to get free of the falling beast but was unable to get clear. The bellowing animal fell on top of him, crushing his spindly body under its bulk and then both rider and mount fell still.

Reddam hoped the other two Eldar would be dumbstruck long enough to be taken out but they reacted instantly, spurring their mounts to break free. They ran ten metres away and then turned to face the Astartes once more, their lances held low. Glord placed himself between them and Reddam and called, "Come on then, let's have at it!"

The mounts pawed the ground as the Eldar barked back, "Filthy Mon-keigh!"

Reddam wasn't sure if that was all the gothic they knew but it hardly mattered, this was the end. The Sergeant looked up at Glord, who might have made it back to base had he left Reddam behind and knew he had forsaken his own life for their Brotherhood. Reddam fumbled for his bolt pistol and managed to get the grip back in his hand as he said, "Brother… I thank you."

Glord kept his eyes on the Eldar and the spear level as he replied, "No need, this is a fine death and I am happy to share it with you."

Reddam fought to lift his pistol as he hissed, "Then let us die proud and go to the Golden Throne together."

Glord snorted, "Wherever we're going, there better be a good beer."

Suddenly the Eldar let out a wild yell and spurred their mounts into a charge. Their clawed feet tore the ground as they sprinted forward, fangs gleaming and the riders steering their lances with deadly skill. They had the Astartes' measure now and they would not miss again. Reddam saw them take one ponderous step, then another and another, their charge as irresistible as the wind. Yet on the fourth step another force intervened.

Suddenly a hail of bolt rounds came out of nowhere, scything in from behind to catch the Eldar in the rear. The Xenos were struck in the backs and the mass-reactive rounds tore them to shreds, exploding their bodies apart in showers of gore. The beasts went down under the barrage, massive craters blown into their bodies and they collapsed at Glord's feet as the warrior exclaimed, "What the Frak?!"

Reddam's eyes lifted and he saw the most wondrous sight, a trio of Amber Vipers bounding forward. They were a motley collection, two warriors of Primus and Brother of Secundus in scout-plate, but all of them were advancing with bolters raised. Reddam recognised the leader, Sergeant Nuros, a fellow survivor of the Old Seventeen, and the Sergeant had never been so relieved to see another Astartes in his life.

Glord lowered his spear and gasped, "Where did you come from?!"

Nuros replied gruffly, "No need to thank us for saving your lives."

Reddam interjected then, "Nuros, I am damn glad to see you. Thanks for your timely assistance."

"Don't mention it," Nuros sniffed, "We heard the fighting and came as fast as we could. We thought we were the only ones to make it this far. Glad to see you alive, but why are you laying in the mud?"

Glord reached down and heaved Reddam to his feet saying, "The Sergeant is injured, he needs an Apothecary."

Nuros scoffed, "Injured? Let me see… Emperor Wept! Reddam, how are you still alive?"

"Not sure," Reddam replied, "But this is hardly the time or place."

"Indeed it's only another five kilometres to base," Nuros replied, "Here, let us help carry you."

However Glord replied defensively, "I've got him."

Reddam sighed, "Don't be stupid, let them help you."

Yet Glord stated firmly, "I brought you this far, I'm taking you the rest of the way."

Reddam knew Glord was being a stubborn fool but hadn't the heart to argue with him. As he was once more slung over Gord's shoulder he felt only gratitude towards his Brother. It made him realise that despite his past loses he had had not forsaken everything, he still had the Brotherhood of his comrades and that made everything to him. As the survivors headed for the base Reddam looked to the future with confidence, sure that so long as they stood together the Amber Vipers would overcome anything.