Chapter 7.3 Muster of the Warmaster
"What if I refuse?"
Sanguinius remembered back, far into his memory of that first meeting with the Emperor on Baal. With his Father.
There he was. Human, but as close to a deity as was possible in this universe. Or at least, that was what he believed at the time…
"You will not refuse," came the reply after a moment's hesitation.
'The arrogance,' thought Sanguinius, 'And also not an answer. He never did give an answer to my question during our first meeting. Would he have killed me? Would he have scoured my Legion and my World from the face of the Universe for my defiance? Would I be nothing more than a shade, not even a memory like the Second and Eleventh?'
"I know your soul. Here, you have saved tens of thousands of lives. With me you will save billions of lives on millions of worlds. You will save the life of every human yet to be born."
"And what happens when my duty to them… conflicts with my duty to you, Father?" whispered Sanguinius under his breath, "What happens when I must defy you to save them?"
"I want something from you," said the memory shade of Sanguinius within his mind, "I want your word. Do you swear, on whatever oaths hold value to you that you will leave my people in peace? Untouched by your designs unless they desire otherwise, free to exist as they already exist, believing in whatever they choose to believe?"
"You have my word."
'But you gave no such promise to Magnus…' thought Sanguinius, 'You gave no such promise to Lorgar. And by enforcing the Librarius you broke that promise to me. My sons are my people, as much as the ones that toil beneath the sun of Balor. You promised to leave them untouched, to be free to exist with or without psychic gifts, believing in whatever they choose to believe. You lied to me, Father. You betrayed me. Yet why still do I feel uneasy? Why do I still wish to be your loyal and dutiful son, even now…'
Words came to Sanguinius, words he spoke to another who called himself 'Emperor' on another world called 'Terra', some time after he was proclaimed Warmaster.
"The fact you break this the most simple of human contracts calls into question your very humanity itself. You are not fit to be the so called 'Master of Mankind'. Your actions reveal only your pride and arrogance of your rule, and if you will not treat with us as equal children of humanity, then we shall do so from a position of superior strength."
"That is my answer… isn't it…" murmured Sanguinius, "One who lies, betrays and cheats his position does not deserve to hold absolute power. And since he did not treat us as equals before, we must negotiate from our position of strength…"
Sanguinius looked out at the muster gathering in the void beyond. Thousands of ships, millions of warriors, all pledge to his banner. So many military commanders had thrown off their loyalty to the Emperor in exchange for accepting the Warmaster as their liege lord. Hundreds of worlds ferried him supplies and troops. The amount of letters and gifts from supporters eclipsed anything Sanguinius had received before, for any compliance.
The Warmaster was beloved above all. The Angelic figure, striding forth to topple a Tyrant was a potent image which Lorgar had worked hard to cultivate. Men would charge into flames and blades to please him, mothers would hand their fresh born babes to serve as warriors at his command. No General or Admiral had refused his request to join the Crusade Vitae when he spoke to them personally. His explanations had been clear and honest, and few could argue with the Great Angel.
Many followers of Lorgar's old beliefs of the Lectitio Divinitatus refused to accept the Warmaster's command, but those individuals were swiftly locked up, vanished in mysterious circumstances, or vanished with their ships into the warp, never to be seen again.
Regardless, Sanguinius had his Crusade. And it was more than just a force of Astartes. The people who followed him loved him, and believed in his vision of a better tomorrow.
He did have many of his siblings by his side as well of course.
Perturabo was missing, still maintaining position at the edges of Terra's defenses, but now 5 of his brothers waited on his command around Prospero.
On the planet below, Magnus and Lorgar made preparations of the gateway that would lead the march to Terra. Lorgar had seemed somewhat afraid of Magnus following the events on Molech but despite that the zeal of the Word Bearer had not weakened in any form. Magnus had been working tirelessly on his Primordial Essence, and the news had been positive.
Jaghatai was also present, even inviting Sanguinius to his command ship to enjoy the pleasures and decadence from his adventures. Sanguinius had politely declined, but the fact the War Hawk still gave him respect put his mind somewhat at ease.
Out there as well was Vulkan and the Lion, both Legions at full strength. Vulkan was much changed, as was the Lion which still unnerved the Great Angel. Vulkan seemed as jovial as ever, but the was a sinister sardonic aura about the Lion which Sanguinius could not put his finger on, even with his mutated form.
At first Sanguinius had been horrified, much like his reaction to Vulkan, but the Lion insisted he had merely tapped into the power of Caliban. It was hard for Sanguinius to accept, but given the beliefs of Jaghatai and Russ it was hard to argue about it. Ever wanting to avoid being the hypocrite like his Father, Sanguinius had accepted the Lion's support without further question.
Sanguinius' thoughts then turned to Leman Russ, the punishment he had visited on the Wolf King and his heart sank. He could no longer justify what he had done to the Wolf King.
"First thing I will do…" he muttered to himself, "After victory on Terra, is find Leman to apologize for my actions and re-instate his Legion's traditions. That was too much of my Father's way. Not any more. The Space Wolves shall have their Rune Priests back and be free to practice their personally held beliefs."
The doors slid open and Abaddon emerged. The First Captain was in his white Terminator warplate and had a look of despondency about him. He knew why he was being summoned to the Warmaster. This was their first direct meeting since the Sixteenth and Ninth Legions had arrived on Prospero. The Great Angel clearly wanted answers.
"Ezekyle…" said Sanguinius in a reproachful voice of an adult addressing a misbehaving child, "Where is the Vengeful Spirit?"
After a moments pause, Abaddon admitted, "It is gone, Lord Warmaster. It has been… destroyed."
"When I summoned my Legions to Prospero, I was rather surprised to find nearly a Fifth of my forces missing, from both the Ninth and Sixteenth Legions," accused Sanguinius, his tone turning more stern, "My First Captain from the Sons of Sanguinius is dead. The Mournivals have been devastated, beyond what had occurred prior to my departure. I questioned Askaellon but he has upheld a vow of silence and tells me he refuses to speak on the matter! I have had no choice but to lock in him the brig on potential charges of murder! I beg of you, Ezekyle, please tell me there is some SANITY in this madness?!"
"Forgive me, Warmaster," said Abaddon, bowing on his knee, "Askaellon is not to blame. The fault falls entirely on me. Save him from any punishment, for if punishment is to be meted out it should fall upon me alone."
The Great Angel stared down, a dark rage boiling behind his eyes, which slowly softened. He could not remain angry at the first son of his favourite brother, despite all that might have occurred.
"Continue… Ezekyle. Tell me everything that happened," commanded the Angel softly.
"The truth of the matter is… Sejanus and Tarik learned of your departure," said Abaddon, putting as much earnestness behind the half truth as he could muster, "They would never have gone along with your desire to potentially move against the Emperor. I… attempted to lock them up aboard the Vengeful Spirit, but there were those amongst the Ninth that also posed a threat. I rushed to the Ninth to discover whether any had learned of your plans, especially amongst the Wardens who would never have stood with you. Askaellon was forced to kill Raldoron when he and I were locked in combat. It is not his fault, he is a dutiful and loyal son that will serve you well in the coming days. Though… do not tell him I said that."
"And what of the Vengeful Spirit?" asked Sanguinius, processing all he was told.
"There was much confusion," admitted Abaddon, "I was aboard the Red Tear when the message got out that a conflict was occurring. Many stood with us, but some fought against us. During the skirmish there was a collision between a cruiser and the Vengeful Spirit. Also a handful of Frigates managed to escape the system before we could stop them..."
"So it is likely Terra may know of our approach already," sighed Sanguinius, "This is all my fault. I should have been honest with my sons before departing. Perhaps I could have swayed more to my cause. Hearing it second hand as a whisper of treason may well have driven many of my sons to act rashly… Once again, a lack of honesty is the greatest evil."
"The fault is mine, Warmaster," said Abaddon, bowing his head whilst ignoring the comment about lacking honesty, "I should have been more vigilant to stop any from escaping to bear the news to Terra."
"Rise, Ezekyle," gestured Sanguinius, "I fear I may have been guilty of my Father's sin in this case. I did not trust my sons with the truth when I should have done. I put undue burden on you and others. I am glad you and Askaellon have stood together in this matter. He protected you with his silence, and you protect him in turn with the truth. You have proven the value of the Mournival and the bonds you have forged."
"As you say, Warmaster," muttered Abaddon as he rose, trying to prevent the guilt of his inner voice spilling into his words.
Sejanus and Tarik were probably dead because of him. Raldoron definitely was, and Nassir Amit had more than likely perished in the purge. He had single handedly cut down all but 1 of the Mournival with his actions, and whilst he did not regret serving the Warmaster, his inner turmoil did not sit well with him.
"I will have Askaellon released immediately," continued Sanguinius, "And he shall be appointed Acting-First Captain. I will need commanders I can trust, and it will take time rebuilding the hierarchy. Time we do not have. We much march immediately. The longer we delay the longer Terra has to prepare. If we are to make this a short war, we must strike as hard and as fast as we can."
"I will prepare my Legion for war," nodded Abaddon, relieved the topic had changed.
"I have Eight Legions at my command," said the Angel, gesturing out the window to the void, "All of which are near full strength, bar some minor skirmishes… I shall take Four with me on the Long March to Terra. The Sons of Horus and Sanguinius, the Thousand Sons and the Word Bearers shall march with me. Perturabo already encircles Terra with his Iron Warriors, and to him I shall send the Salamanders, the Dark Angels and the White Scars to ensure that when the Imperial Palace is breached our Father has nowhere to run. Magnus and Lorgar shall accompany me through the Gateway Magnus has created. My other brothers shall go with their Legions to Perturabo's command."
"I bring word on that matter, My Lord," said Abaddon, "The Ninteenth Legion recently appeared in system. I believe the Raven Guard are with us as well. I did not hear from their Primarch directly but his chosen representative, a Captain Rushal I believe, has stated the Primarch is convinced to make common cause with us."
"This is excellent news," said Sanguinius brightly, "Seems like the embassies of Lorgar and my pleas have appealed to the nature of my brother. I am glad to have him with us."
"Regardless, this puts you at Nine Legions, my Warmaster," concluded Abaddon.
"Nine… once again that number…" murmured Sanguinius, "The Ninth Legion, my Legion. Nine Legions in total. Eight Primarchs. I have a sense of foreboding, Ezekyle. I feel there is some significance in these numbers, but I do not know whether for good or ill."
"Well the Sixteenth isn't exactly fitting with the pattern my Lord," joked Abaddon with a smirk, "I never put much trust in signs and symbols, only what I can hold with my own two hands. You have Nine Legions, Eight Primarchs, and I'll warrant fewer await us on Terra."
"We can expect Dorn at the very least," agreed Sanguinius, "The Imperial Fists will stand against us. If Russ has made it to Terra, the 'other wolves' as you call them will not join us. Nor will Mortarion and the Death Guard. Jaghatai claims he had conflicts with Fulgrim, though he claims the Legion was destroyed so perhaps he is no longer a threat."
Abaddon shifted uncomfortably outside the gaze of the Warmaster, focused on the ships outside. No one had bothered to mention to the Warmaster that the Emperor's Children had been savaged by the White Scars AND his precious Sons… The First Captain planned to keep it that way.
"Guilliman is trapped in Ultramar, I have that under good authority by Magnus and Lorgar," continued Sanguinius, "Ferrus will be too far out to respond. Curze could be anywhere at this point. As is Alpharius. I do not think either would reach Terra in time however. That puts us at a likely Three to Five Legions the enemy can field at most, assuming they keep none for the defense of the rest of the Solar System."
"What about Angron?" enquired Abaddon.
Sanguinius smirked at the question.
"If I know anything of my renegade brother he will not answer the call to Terra. He will continue doing what does far from here, and when the business is done on Terra he shall have his reckoning with me."
"So that leaves in a worst case scenario Five Legions on Terra against our Nine," mused Abaddon, "But more likely Three."
"And so we should bring the Raven Guard with our main advance to increase our own count to Five, with the other Four blockading," decided Sanguinius, "I will send instructions with Vulkan, the Lion and Jaghatai for Perturabo that if we should fail to reach the Imperial Palace by a given time and date, they are to advance on the world from above. Terra will fall to us. Even if our advance is stalled should we meet Five Legions against our own Five, we shall cut them down from behind. If the enemy is Three or fewer they may hold for a time, but they will not be able to stop us. I may yet convince some of our other brothers to join our Crusade Vitae. Rogal is no fool, I will accept his surrender should he give it, and welcome him openly should he see reason. I yet hope for that to be the case."
"I would not object avoiding to fight against the Seventh Legion," admitted Abaddon, "Sigismund is a skilled duelist. I'd rather have him with us than against us. I still think I could beat him, but I'm not interested in losing many of our forces to him."
"Go now, Ezekyle," commanded Sanguinius, "Go see to it Askaellon is released. I must also go and meet with my brother Corvus. I shall need you both in the days to come, and I would have you both by my side for the speech."
"Speech my Lord?" enquired Abaddon, turning to depart.
"No Crusade should begin without a speech to bolster the hearts and spirits of those that undertake it," explained Sanguinius, "I wish for all our warriors to see that I am strong an unafraid of the endeavor we are about to set forth upon. I wish for them to know, honestly, why we are doing this thing and keep no secrets as my Father has done. I wish for the Crusade Vitae to be the championing of the Truth, of our strive to make a better Imperium, a better galaxy, and beyond."
Abaddon nodded and retreated, his own deceptions kept notably quiet.
Sanguinius took a few more moments to glance out at the distant stars, contemplating the actions before him, before making his way down to Prospero's soil.
When Sanguinius met with Corvus Corax later on the surface of Prospero, the Primarch seemed... on edge. The were a dark aura that seemed to hang over the Raven Guard Primarch, which Sanguinius saw as less than pleasant. Once again, Sanguinius felt an uneasiness at seeing another brother pledging loyalty in such a state.
His face was covered by a re-breather mask which seemed almost welded to his face. His eyes, normally a dark black, now blazed with a deep dark red, the colour of congealed blood. He wore his full battle plate, and his talons dripped with fresh blood from which a source Sanguinius dare not ask.
"Brother..." said Sanguinius softly, saddened to see yet another brother in poor shape, "What has happened to you?"
"Blood," replied Corvus with an effort that sounded like he repressing a roar, "My sons... my captains... my... friends... they died. There were... monsters. Beasts. The big one. He... took something from me."
"Oh my brother..." whispered Sanguinius placing a hand on Corvus' shoulder in comfort.
The Bloody Raven snapped at the Warmaster, slicing across Sanguinius' arm with his talon. The eyes of the Raven Guard Primarch glowed a bright red for just a moment before settling back into their darker shade. A few drops of blood hit the ground as Sanguinius recoiled in surprise.
"Brother!"
"For... Forgive... Me..." rumbled Corvus, staggering back away from the Warmaster, "I know... not... what... I do. I have... been... broken, brother. Help... me... I cannot... control... the... blood."
"I will help you," promised Sanguinius, once again feeling that sadness for a brother in pain, "I do not know what sorcery has befallen you but I promise we shall cure you."
"I... will come with... you," growled Corax, "I... will fight. It... is easier... when I... fight. When... there is... blood."
"Are you sure you do not wish to rest, brother?" asked Sanguinius, holding his wrist to stop the flow of red liquid onto the ground below as his Primarch biology healed the wound, "I do not ask you to join me in such a condition. Perhaps you would be better aboard your ship. There are many of our brothers here, I do not need you specifically."
"NO!" roared the Bloody Raven, his eyes glowing again, "THERE MUST BE SKULLS! BLOOD!"
"Corvus..." whispered Sanguinius, resisting the urge to once again reach out to his brother.
"Use... my... curse... brother," muttered Corax, holding his arms to stop the twitching, "I know... Father... He would... kill me. For this... curse. Like our... lost two..."
Sanguinius bit his lip as he remembered his Legion's own curse. It was the Red Thirst that cut into the Blood Angels, now Sons of Sanguinius.
He had long feared death at the Emperor's hands as well if such a flaw had been discovered. It scared the Great Angel how similar the misfortune that befell the Primarch of the Raven Guard was to his own children's curse. None had ever known of it except Horus, and Horus had kept his secret. Now it was Sanguinius' turn.
"I understand brother, better than you know. We shall find a cure for this. I swear it."
"Then... brother... Just... Promise me..."
"Promise you what, Corvus?"
"Promise... me... We... Fight... For... Justice."
Sanguinius stared deep into the sad, lost eyes of his brother, and his heart shattered once again. The eyes of his brother were pleading, begging him that what was about to unfold was for good, that if he let go of the darkness within it would serve a greater good. That his mindless rage could be turned for a better cause, and his slaughter would fall upon the wicked and deserved.
"I promise you, Corvus," said Sanguinius calmly with a nod, "I will ensure only the criminal and guilty shall fall beneath your blades, or those we cannot reason with. I promise that together we shall fight to our Father to get a cure for you, willingly or no. I swear that your suffering will not be in vain."
"Blood," said the Bloody Raven, forlornly.
Some hours later, Sanguinius was stood on a tall dias, his golden armour illuminated by a thousand lights. Behind him towered the Chaos Gate, much like the one on Molech, as it glowed and pulsed with an unnatural aura. Before him, a crowd of over half a million Astartes, millions of Astra Militarum, Titans, Knights, allied Mechanicus and more. This was more than an army. This was a Crusade. Not since Ullanor had such a force been gathered for a single purpose.
To Sanguinius' left stood Abaddon in his glorious white Terminator Armour. To Sanguinius' right, Askaellon stood resolute, his own golden armour in perfect harmony with the Warmaster. Behind the Great Angel stood Magnus, Lorgar, Jaghatai, Vulkan, the Lion and Corax, all basking in the setting sun of Prospero.
Magnus held a glowing sphere in his hand, a first draft of his new Primordial Essence. It was far from complete, much more work would take place, but he had assured Sanguinius the work could be done on the march. It would be ready by the time they reached the Imperial Palace, or so the Crimson King claimed. Lorgar eyed the Essence like a child eyeing a candy shop's window.
Vulkan merely laughed and waved, his infectious personality coupled with his infectious form, all others keeping a distance from the plague ridden Lord of the Salamanders.
The Lion grinned a mad sadistic grin of a psychopath about to see an elderly man fall to his death, as his other faces garbled nonsense or gasped silently in agony. The Lion's warriors stood silent, like empty suits of armour throughout the proceedings.
The Bloody Raven seemed an inch from killing everything in sight, especially Jaghatai who lounged on his palanquin, but somehow restrained himself enough to hear the words of the Warmaster.
"My Fellow Children of Humanity!" called Sanguinius, brandishing the Spear of Teleston on high, "Warriors of the Crusade Vitae! We Stand Now at a Historic Moment! For Too Long has My Father Hidden the Truth From US! From YOU! For Too Long has He Withheld Power That Could Have Saved Your Loved Ones! For Too Long, You Have Been Shedding Blood For One Who Does Not Respect You Enough to Be Honest! But No More!"
This was met with a roar of agreement from the crowd.
"The TRUTH Must Out! The Power MUST be Shared! We Go Now To Treat With My Father and To Ensure, Willingly Or No, He Shares His Power! Not Just With Me, But With ALL of YOU!"
More roars of agreement came forth.
"We Do This NOT To Be Conquerors. We Do This NOT To Punish, Or Seek Vengeance! We Do This NOT To Replace My Father With ME, Or Some Other Tyrant! We Do This Because It is RIGHT! We Do This Because It Is JUST! And Most Of All, We Do This Because TRUTH and LIFE Will Prevail Over LIES and DEATH!"
A cheer rang out from the crowd at this, with smatterings of applause throughout.
"I Shall Be Straight Forward. We Go Now To a Battle of Which None of Us Can Foresee the Outcome!"
"Speak for yourself," muttered the Lion with snicker.
"Many Of You May Fall In The Line of Duty! I Cannot Promise That We Will All Reach Terra Unscathed! But As I Stand Within The Imperial Palace, And as My Brother Horus Is Brought Back to Life Once More, We Will Prove That The Power Over Death Is Within Our Hands! And If Horus Can Stand Once More, So Can Anyone! From The Finest Trooper, To The Mightiest Primarch! Fear Not Death, For If We Succeed, It Will Be Nothing More Than A Memory! Fight Hard! Fight Well! And Together We WILL Build A New Imperium! Together, We Are UNSTOPPABLE! TOGETHER, WE ARE THE CRUSADE VITAE!"
Sanguinius raised his hands with the last sentence, which drove the crowd into a frenzy. As if inspired by his words, Abaddon and Askaellon stepped forward and led the crowd in a chant that echoed all across Prospero.
"FOR! THE! WARMASTER! FOR! THE! CRUSADE! VITAE!"
Turning his back to the chanting crowd, Sanguinius gave a nod to each of his brothers, some of which nodded in return.
As the first of many, the Warmaster stepped through the Gate of Prospero and on the path to Terra.
The march to War had begun. The Crusade Vitae made for Terra.