Diem Infamia Chapter 17

Through the bowels of the Cruenta Caede Kasarox angrily strode, his pace fast and his face filled with terrible anger. Crowds of miserable helots parted before him, none of them brave enough to tempt his wrath. The Unhallowed saw the filthy, emaciated wretches pass by but gave them no consideration, they were beneath his notice. The Coryphaus left them in his wake as he stormed onwards, his blood drenched claw furling and unfurling in frustration.

Two paces behind him ran Raruma and Burronox, the later struggling to keep pace in his cumbersome Terminator plate. They too ignored the mortal chattels as they followed him and Burronox called out, "Slow down."

Kasarox was incensed by that and spat, "Keep up or be left behind."

Raruma edged nearer and urged, "He's right, this is foolish. Slow down."

"Don't you know what they've done?!" Kasarox spat testily.

"What I know is you're drawing too much attention," Raruma hissed, "Everyone can see you and word will get back to Abulaz."

That made Kasarox slow down, awkward questions were the last thing he needed right now. He forced himself into a measured pace but his claw sent a pulse of pain up his arm, the Blood God's gift demanding the hot rush of adrenaline and the mindless bliss of rage. The Unhallowed rose above the primal urge, forcing himself to walk calmly but still he muttered, "One day, we are one accursed day from launching our attack and our erstwhile allies pull this on us."

Burronox was stomping along and he uttered, "I still don't understand, what have they done?"

Kasarox snarled, "I spend years putting our people in the right places and on the eve of our assault they abandon their posts and summon me to hear their demands. Me!"

Raruma shook his head and said, "I have to admit I wasn't expecting our own side to muck things up. I would have sworn it would be the Alpha Legion who turned on us."

"It doesn't matter," Kasarox snarled, "I'll rip out their tongues for this."

Swiftly they proceeded deeper into the ship, heading towards the lower decks where the Word Bearers typically did not venture. They left the crowds of helots behind and found themselves approaching a fane, one of the many desecrated temples buried in the ship's innards. It was dark and brooding, covered in runic script work and upon the walls hung crucified bodies of sacrifices unto the pantheon, some of them still dripping bodily fluids. Kasarox paid it no mind as he strode up to the doorway and stepped within, only to find a massacre.

The black marble walls were covered in fresh blood, torn from the piles of priestly bodies laying everywhere. Mortal demagogues lay in pieces in all directions, many of them so badly defiled that the brands of Chaos upon their skin could hardly be seen. Flaming scones guttered feebly as their brands burned low, making shadows move in the corners. The brass icons of ruin were smashed, the lecterns toppled and a great vat of bubbling blood at the centre of the fane had been left unattended, broiling over without the ministrations of the acolytes of Chaos. Normally Kasarox would have been vexed by the offense to the Dark Gods, but today his wrath was focussed solely on the authors of this destruction.

Standing amid the ruins of the temple were three Word Bearers, all of them known to Kasarox and all part of his conspiracy. The first of them was a warrior with elaborate flourishes to his plate, silver icons obscuring the gore red ceramite below. In his hand was a curved sabre, honed so sharp it could slice molecules in twain and wreathed with black flames. This was Hehzr, a blademaster of the Legion and a sullen wretch. The next was surprisingly thin-faced, his armour 's bulk at odds with his appearance. He bore many tomes about his belt and shadows danced at his feet, seemingly like mastiffs held on a chain. This was Ulreanor the Daemonsmith, an enchanter steeped in the lore of the Pantheon and one eager for power.

The last one loomed large, growing head and shoulders over them all. His form was swollen with corded muscle, bulging out of his plates and his arms had been exposed to reveal biceps bigger than most men's chests. This was Festerlax the fleshweaver, a Legion Apothecary steeped in the mutational power of Chaos. Recently Festerlax had taken to working his art upon his own body and his huge bulk was topped by a ram's head, complete with curving horns around his pointed ears.

Kasarox glared at the trio as he entered and spat, "What are you doing?"

Ulreanor answered plainly, "Making sure there are no witnesses."

Kasarox ground to a halt before them as he growled, "I meant what are you doing here? Why aren't you where I sent you? Festerlax, you are meant to secure the Crooked Path's gene-seed. Hehzr you were meant to be recruiting more swords to our cause and Ulreanor I sent you to take command of the Testament of Destruction."

Hehzr stepped forward and uttered, "We are not your minions, to be sent where you command. We go where we will."

Kasarox was vexed by their tone and he growled, "You endanger everything, we are about to launch our attack and you are needed at your posts."

Festerlax spoke up then, his goat's mouth mangling the words as he spat, "Plots… always plots."

Ulreanor concurred, "He's right, you always have some scheme in motion, some big plan. You make speeches and draw up strategies but ultimately you do nothing!"

Kasarox barked back, "Where would you be without my plans? How many wars have I led you to victory in? How many battles were saved because I had foreseen what no one else did?"

Raruma interjected, "Who has led us across the killing fields? You Hehzr, or you Ulreanor? Kasarox has ever been in the front, leading by example and sharing every danger. You are fools to doubt him."

Hehzr lifted his sword's edge and growled, "And yet Abulaz still lives, while my twin does not."

So that was it, Kasarox realised; these three had got impatient and decided to make their move. Each of them wanted Abulaz gone, Hehzr's twin brother had died in a bungled mission, Ulreanor wanted the Dark Apostle's secret lore and Festerlax… well no one knew what the fleshweaver wanted but it was certainly bloody. Kasarox eyed them and hissed, "I want Abulaz dead as much as you do, but I am no fool. He still wields powerful sorcery, that is why I intend to strike while he is distracted by the upcoming assault."

"Words," Festerlax growled.

Ulreanor concurred, "You twist and writhe like a snake, but never take what you want. The Coryphaus who would not attack, how pathetic! We've waited long enough; we won't stomach your cowardice anymore."

Raruma sounded concerned as he muttered, "Unhallowed, be wary, this is no time to act rashly."

Yet Kasarox faced the trio and snarled angrily, "Say that again."

Hehzr stared at him and spat, "You are a coward and we will not…"

Before he could complete the sentence Kasarox was moving, his great claw slashing out to disembowel the blademaster. Hehzr was stunned by the unexpected move but he remained Transhuman and got his blade into the path of the attack to block the strike. Kasarox twisted his hand, trying to wrench the blade away but Hehzr fell back, weaving his sword before him. Kasarox's lips drew back over his teeth as he gave chase, feeling the rush of power and vitality from his Daemonic claw flooding over him. No more holding back, no more denying the might of Khorne. The power filled him and he embraced it.

Desperately Hehzr parried his attacks, over and over, as the Unhallowed matched him pace for pace. Vicous cuts came out of nowhere, battering at the blademaster's defences, a shocking assault that left him reeling. Kasarox could sense the blademaster's astonishment at his prowess, the unexpected speed and strength. Hehzr was fast and skilled, utterly precise and ruthless, he was counted among the best of the Crooked Path but Kasarox had grown mighty in recent years, becoming far more than he had been before. The Unhallowed blurred as he hacked and slashed and stabbed with his bleeding talons, always coming at Hehzr from an odd angle, far more agile with his five claws than he had any right to be.

He heard a heavy crump as Burronox and Raruma stepped forward but he yelled over his shoulder, "No! Stay out of this!" The Coryphaus knew his authority was being challenged and he had to win this alone, no leader would stay in power long if he relied on others to fight his battles for him. The moment of distraction cost him for suddenly Hehzr's blade stabbed forward, plunging into his chest with a cry of, "Ha!"

Kasarox felt tongues of fire running through his chest but he was not beaten, he had felt the ragefire of Khorne and this was a mere candle by comparison. Kasarox's good hand shot out and grabbed Hehzr's gorget, then before be could react yanked him forward into a vicious headbutt. The blademaster was dazed for a heartbeat and then Kasarox's claw swept low, tearing belly armour apart and spilling entrails. Hehzr collapsed in a bloody heap; desperately stuffing his guts back in as he fought to stay alive.

The blademaster was down but there was no time to celebrate for a flurry of dark shadows came out of nowhere, engulfing Kasarox in black chains. The Unhallowed heard chanting from afar and knew Ulreanor was setting his Daemonic shades upon him. He thrashed about as he tried to beat them off but there was nothing to hit and his claw found no purchase. In return the shadows wrapped him in suffocating blackness, choking his throat and squeezing the life out of him. Kasarox couldn't see and he couldn't fight and he knew of no spell that could counter this, but he could still hear just fine.

The Unhallowed froze, listening for the chanting noises and his transhuman ears picked it out effortlessly. His good hand seized the hilt of Hehzr's sword, still sticking out his chest, and he wrenched it free, before hurling it through the air with a snap of his wrist. There was a sharp thunk as the blade struck something and the chanting instantly ceased. Ulreanor was hit, probably not fatally, but enough to disrupt his sorcery.

The clouds dissolved and Kasarox could see again, only to find Festerlax charging at him. Time slowed before his eyes and he saw a great ham fist swinging at him, ready to smash him down, but Kasarox merely lifted his claw and caught the punch in the palm of his hand. Festerlax slammed to an abrupt halt, eyes bulging in disbelief at the unbreakable wall he had slammed into. Enormous forces wrestled back and forth but Kasarox's hearts glowed with triumph as his strength proved the greater.

He forced Festerlax back a step then turned and twisted, throwing him across the temple to smash into the cauldron of burning blood. Quick as a flash Kasarox was upon him, grabbing him by the back of the neck and heaving him against the side, before plunging his head into the scalding fluid. Festerlax thrashed and kicked out, desperately trying to break free but the Unhallowed's grip was iron. He held Festerlax under the surface for long seconds, his savage will unyielding and relentless. Festerlax's motions grew still then he feebly beat the cauldron's edge twice, a signal of submission.

Kasarox knew the fleshweaver was beaten but his claw stabbed him, urging him to claim the kill. The Unhallowed was tempted, it would be so easy to kill this one, but he repulsed the instinct. His plans required followers and he would not succumb to blood rage, he was the master not the servant of his gifts. Kasarox released Festerlax and the mutated Marine came up spluttering, his skin and fur burned off in places as he fell on his rear and clutched at his scalded face.

Kasarox turned away from the pathetic display muttering, "Stop acting so weak, its only pain."

Elsewhere Hehzr was clutching at his intestines as Ulreanor pulled the sword from his shoulder but he saw Kasarox's eyes upon him and hurriedly dropped to one knee saying, "You are victorious, I yield."

The Unhallowed calmly stepped over to him, he looked down at the kneeling enchanter and said, "You defied me and you attacked me. Do you think I should let you live?"

Ulreanor didn't dare look up as he said, "I shall serve you wholeheartedly and will spread word of this, your position will be secure."

Kasarox sniffed, "And what shall they hear? That I let my own followers turn on me, without extracting a price in blood?"

Suddenly Kasarox's hand blurred as he snatched up his bolt pistol and fired a single shot, blowing Hehzr's brains out. The blademaster fell dead to the floor as Ulreanor looked up in shock. Kasarox grinned as his claw pulsed with pleasure at the kill and he stated, "Tell the others what you saw and make sure they know the price of defying me. Now get back to the Testament of Destruction and stay there."

He turned his back on the pair and marched away, passing Raruma and Burronox. They fell in with him and as they left the temple Raruma muttered, "Impressive work, I didn't know you had that in you.

Burronox concurred, "You have grown mighty but I'm surprised you left any alive."

Kasarox replied without looking back, "Those two have useful skills, I need them."

"And Hehzr?" Burronox asked.

Kasarox answered, "I didn't need him."

"So at least that's over with," Raruma declared.

"Yes and no," Kasarox replied, "Their oafish blunder showed me an important truth: the time for plotting is over, the time for action is at hand. Tomorrow we strike and the true slaughter shall begin."