Chapter 2.5 The Stacked Deck

Mortarion paced back and forth, enraged as Russ entered the small chamber. The Great Wolf slouched his way over to the nearest seat and collapsed with exhaustion, a weary look on his face. A pair of Sixth Legion servants rushed forward with a tankard of Mjod which was gratefully received by their master. Russ took a long deep drink of the strong liquid and sighed, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the chair. Mortarion looked at Russ disdainfully.

"How can you be drinking at a time like this brother? We need to rally if we to have any chance of swaying the minds of the Council to see the truth we both know. We must spend all night speaking with Malcador and the others to persuade them of the folly of Magnus' words. If we do nothing but sit here and get drunk then the Crimson King shall win the day and the Imperium will take another step down the road to Ruin."

Russ looked up at Mortarion and his pacing, waving his hand dismissively.

"Brother, I admire your… passion for fighting the scourge of sorcery. Honestly it is refreshing to see another as concerned about our brothers as I am. However, I do not think you see the truth of the matter. Magnus has done nothing but made his eventually punishment more harsh. Nothing will come of his words."

Mortarion stopped pacing and glowered at Russ, angrily.

"Brother, did you observe the same events over the past few days as I did? Did you not hear the words of both our vaunted 'Warmaster' and the Crimson King? Did you not see how so many that sat beside Malcador fawned and swooned at the honeyed words they spoke? Were it not for the Sisters of Silence present I would swear the pair of them used their vile sorceries to cast a spell on them all…"

Russ banged his tankard on the arm of his chair, sending a loud echo around the room. The servants, startled, scattered from the room leaving the pair of Primarchs alone. The Great Wolf gaze across at the Pale King, a combative look in his eyes.

"You will not speak ill of the Warmaster, brother of mine. Magnus walks the ruinous path, I do not disagree, but the Warmaster was appointed of all the Allfather's sons to lead the Great Crusade in his name. I see your frustrations but remember to maintain proper respect for those who are deserving of it."

Mortarion scoffed at the reprimand. He resumed his pacing tapping his gauntlets over and over in a sign of frustration.

"What does Sanguinius know of suffering. The Warmaster should have been one who knows the true meaning of suffering. He is not worthy of walking in the shoes of Horus Lupercal. It does not surprise me that a pampered Prince would arise to the rank over us all… It is decisions like this that make me fear the Imperium's fall has already begun."

"Who would you have as Warmaster then, brother," contested Russ, his own ire rising at his far too blunt companion.

"Horus. It should have always been him. He was the greatest of us, the only one who could keep stability. He was robbed of a noble role he was born for."

"Yes, but Horus is dead," growled Russ in frustration, "We all mourn his loss brother, none more so than Baal-son. I would have thought your shared love of our first found brother would have brought you together."

"Sanguinius stole Horus' throne from his still warm corpse!" hissed Mortarion, "Our brother was barely dead when we heard news Sanguinius had used his silver tongue to convince the Emperor to appoint him Warmaster! And to add insult to injury Sanguinius has stolen his sons to keep for his own. The 'Angel' has stolen much of Horus' legacy."

"Baal-son had the support of many brothers," retorted Russ, gruffly, "Myself included. He is not Horus, but he is a rightful choice. If not him than who else?"

Mortarion paused and considered the question.

"Perturabo perhaps. He built this magnificent arena, and his attention to detail in analytics is impressive. But even he is pale in comparison to what Horus could have been. Even Curze would have been preferable, he has a good sense of justice."

Russ chuckled roughly at the suggestion that Perturabo or Curze should have been Warmaster, but made no further comment. Mortarion resumed his pacing.

"Regardless, brother, we must consider what to do about our current predicament! Unless we act swiftly Magnus will walk away tomorrow with all the keys necessary to tear the Imperium to its very foundations and issue in a new Old Night!"

Russ took a large drink from his tankard, letting the now empty container drop to the floor beside him.

"Brother, why do you think the Allfather is present at these hearings?"

Mortarion paused again. He could sense a shift in the conversation, truths previously unspoken. There was something in the Great Wolf's tone that hinted at knowledge that none knew.

"To oversee the Council, is he not?"

"Why would there be need the Allfather to be present if the matter were to be handled by the Regent and the Council?" pressed Russ, "The Council will not be making the final decision, the Allfather will."

"I do not understand the relevance," said Mortarion in confusion, "The Emperor heard the same arguments as we all did. Surely he will take the advice of the Council and render the same judgement."

"The Allfather is not here judge the merits of the arguments, brother," said Russ sadly, "He is here to see if Magnus is able to shed his pride and admit he has played with forces he should not have. He is here to see if Magnus is willing to let go of the dangerous forces he plays with, or whether he shall have to do so forcefully. It was not a test of speaking skill brother, it was a test of character. A test of Magnus to see if he would admit to the sins he had already committed, the powers he already brokered with. It was never a judgement of what the future should be, but if Magnus could be honest about his actions of the past. A test of character to which Magnus has failed, by my judgement."

Mortarion appeared stunned by this revelation. He finally took a seat close to Russ, contemplating the words he had just heard.

"This really was the trial of Magnus, wasn't it? Just not in the way any of us thought."

Russ nodded solemnly, looking around for another tankard of Mjod and realizing there was none to be had.

"The Allfather was put in a predicament by Baal-son's intervention. He could not be seen to be undermining the son he had just appointed Warmaster, so the Council had to continue in the form it has. But he cannot allow Magnus to continue his actions. Tomorrow he will render judgement on Magnus, and it will be all the worse now. Many more present may consider the judgement unjust due to the effective arguments of Baal-son and Magnus, but the judgement was always to be the same. Magnus will be forbidden from using his powers, and the Librarius shall be disbanded for all legions."

A smiled spread across Mortarion's face, not a warm one, but one as cold as the grave.

"Perhaps my lack of faith in our Father has been misplaced. After his choice of Sanguinius I truly began to fear his judgement had been compromised. But if this is true, Russ, there is hope for the Imperium yet."

Russ nodded and sighed. He slouched back in the chair in the form of a man defeated, not one who secretly knew the deck was stacked in his favour.

"This will be all the worse," he repeated, "Magnus will not be happy, but that always was to be so. Baal-son will be most upset by the Allfather's ruling, and I hope our brother will not do something rash in response."

Mortarion shruggled dismissively.

"Let him. I care not. If the price for peace and security in the Imperium is the pride of one pampered Prince I shall call that a bargain."

"I fear by the end of this all," said Russ sadly, "We may all come to regret the breaking of Baal-son's heart."