Kephalon followed the chapter master of the Noble Crusaders towards the dueling arena. Teliolux and Holonnius entered the upper levels of the arena, passing and greeting those who watched the ongoing duel, being greeted in kind with much respect by each Noble Crusader they passed. He trailed behind, always within arm's reach of his charge, greeting those astartes he passed with respect, and was given respect in turn, less so when compared to how they greeted Holonnius and Teliolux, but that was to be expected. He looked around the arena, a barren but elegant construct of splendid architecture, marble white walls and pillars inlaid with gold and silver with flowing designs that complimented the style of the arena perfectly, a work of art many mortals would stare at in unabashed awe. It was a bit much for his taste, the inner polymath inherent within all Iron Kings rearing its head. There were too many useless affectations upon the pillars and walls, they were beautiful, that couldn't be denied, but nothing else beyond that. He could identify the exact locations where he would put a few artillery shells and make the entire thing crumble to dust and the inefficient utilization of the given space irked him somewhat, but this was not his arena, so kept his opinions to himself and studied the dueling astartes below.
One wielded an exquisitely crafted polearm, a single bladed spear, with the other wielding a artificed greatsword. Their armor was stripped from the waist up, chiseled musculature bulging and relaxing with every stroke of the blade. The duelists were practically flowing across the arena floor, an elegant dance of death, with smooth blade work, sharp ripostes and thrusts, each duelist testing each other's defenses, and if he were to adjust his autosenses, he could hear them speaking to one another between clashes.
"Your footwork is great, Cacistus, but focus on your defense. I almost got through your guard."
"Would you mind showing me how you accomplished this, Valentine? I must confess it has become something that I need assistance on. I have bested those around me, so I must turn to you, my better."
"Of course Cacistus. Meet me here three days hence, and I will teach you."
He watched them duel for a few more minutes, approving of their skill in bladework, before his attention was drawn to Holonnius.
"They are from the 3rd Company, under Akeman's command, yes?"
"Yes, my liege. They are promising duelists, but tend to favor polearms and two handers over a proper sword," answered Teliolux. "Their records are worthy of respect, and show a marked talent when in command of our auxiliaries, knowing where to put each formation to maximize their overall effectiveness. The command staff of the 13th Auxiliary Regiment gives them especially high praise and commendations for their exemplary skill in command."
"I see. Well then, when next we deploy, ensure that those two are in the command staff of the 13th, and monitor their progress. I see great promise in them."
"As you wish, my liege."
The duel ended when the one wielding a polearm, Valentine from what he discerned from the exchange, swung low, forcing his opponent to try and counter the blow, only for it to be a feint, the real move being to knock the blade from their hands and hold the spearhead to his opponent's throat, both breathing hard, but unharmed from the exchange. The two disengaged and smiled at one another, clasping their forearms and exiting the dueling arena.
"Kephalon, fancy yourself a duel before you depart?"
He turned to look at the beatific chapter master, a look of hope upon his countenance. Kephalon sighed behind his helm, disabling his vox grill so as to not offend the liege of the Noble Crusaders. From the moment he arrived he had been asked by the chapter master to duel, to test his might against one who is near peerless in the art of melee combat, matched only by the savagery and brutality of the Nova Rampagers' chapter master Duratan. An Iron King astartes is not known for his proficiency with a blade in single combat, nor is he known for his skill in the forges. He is known for his skill in the art of the defense and the siege, of coordinating mind-boggling levels of artillery and bolter fire into a near literal torrent of death upon the foe, of smashing through an enemy line with the armored spearhead of Spartans, Land Raiders and Predators. He is known for the relentless application of force upon an enemy until they were simply ground to dust under the treads of his tanks or under the heel of his power armored boot, matched only by his consistency and reliability upon the field of battle. It was near anathema for an Iron King astartes to strive for melee combat prowess, for what would such proficiency accomplish if the foe struck you down at range by artillery or bolter fire. Better to achieve fire superiority and rain down apocalyptic bombardments before cutting down what remains with bolters at range. However, there was a certain formation within the Iron Kings that allowed an astartes with such predilections to improve themselves if they so choose...
"Apologies my lord, but a duelist I am not. I am grateful that you would consider me worthy of dueling, but it is not within our doctrine to train for high levels of proficiency in the arts of melee combat. I fear that I would only disappoint you if I were to duel you."
The lord of the Noble Crusaders waved away such concerns.
"It is quite alright. I am fully aware that my cousin doesn't overtly value the art of close quarters combat, but don't think I'm not aware of that special unit that he keeps tucked away," he said with a sly grin.
"I think it was called a 'Despoiler Squad', wasn't it Kephalon? After all, I understand that you would be the most knowledgeable on such a topic."
This brought concern to the astartes. How did the Noble Crusaders' chapter master know of this, and how did Holonnius suspect him of all people to be a part of such a unit. He wasn't wrong in his assertion by any means, and judging by the growing smile, he knew it. It was true. There was a unit within the Iron Kings that allowed an astartes to become more proficient in the art of close quarters combat should they desire it. While the Strategos had more of a predilection for bolters, armor and artillery, he was not so willfully blind as to deny those skilled in melee combat the chance to utilize such deadly arts for the betterment of the Tagma, and for those that held such predilections, he offered them the opportunity to join such a unit. It was called a Despoiler Squad, a unit that has existed since the beginning of the Iron Kings as a chapter, created by Pyrrhon himself that resided within every company, save the 1st Company.
It was an oft overlooked unit within the Iron Kings due to the inherent biases towards armor, artillery and the like, but Kephalon was determined to bring more glory and prestige to the formation, a formation that he personally commanded.
Holonnius had a cheshire grin as he looked at Kephalon, playfully daring him to try and deny it. While he was stubborn, as were all the Iron Kings, he was not so stubborn as to deny the truth, especially when it was laid out for all to see, or more accurately, for all who mattered to see.
"You are correct, my lord. I command such a unit, and may I ask a question in turn?"
Holonnius acquiesced with a nod.
"How did you come to such a conclusion, my lord? As far as I am aware, my Strategos hasn't discussed such a unit with anyone save myself and other members, so I'm not quite sure how you were able to know of its existence."
"Well," he began. "I had been monitoring your vox chatter when the assault on the renegade fleet began, and I happened to notice certain words being used in conjunction with orders regarding close combat. 'Despoiler Squad' was used when one of your captains needed an enemy slaughtered in close quarters combat, and the fact that he had to contact an entirely separate unit of marines instead of those under his direct command was most intriguing, which presented a more interesting picture. An entirely separate command structure within your ranks, yet seemingly hidden from all who look upon your chapter from the outside, until now.
"I also heard through idle vox chatter from within such units your name come up more than once, and said with the respect that a leader is afforded. So it wasn't much of a stretch to piece together what it was and who commanded it. I'm somewhat surprised my brute of a cousin Duratan hasn't caught on yet," he mused.
"Why would that be, my lord?" asked Kephalon.
"Because he is quick to recognize a warrior, and you carry yourself more akin to a vicious fighter than a soldier as with the rest of your kin."
Before Kephalon could speak, Teliolux made himself known. "Perhaps he already knows. He did say to send his warriors to cross train with theirs and they will be on par with one another."
Holonnius nodded slowly at his second. "He did, didn't he? Well, I guess it's not as much of a secret as you or I thought."
"It must not be, if you and the lord of the Nova Rampagers are already aware of it. Secrecy was never our strong suit, I will admit, but I had hoped that our efforts had perhaps yielded some positive results. Now I know that my hopes were for naught, and that our actions are obvious to those around us."
"Is it of great import to your lord that it remains a secret, Kephalon?"
He nodded.
"Yes, lord, he wishes it to remain a secret to all but him and the members of the unit."
A smirk grew on Holonnius' face.
"Well then, perhaps that can remain a "secret" if you are willing to indulge me in a duel, Kephalon. I'm most intrigued as to how my stoic, disciplined cousins fight in close quarters now that I know there is an unspoken formation within your chapter dedicated to just that."
Kephalon once again sighed, disabling his vox emitter grill before doing so. This was the best he could make out of such a situation, and he would undoubtedly report that their unit was known to the other chapters within the sub-sector, but for now, he would indulge Holonnius with this duel, and hopefully it would satisfy him.
He nodded in acquiescence to the chapter master, who shouted in delight.
"Excellent! We shall meet in the arena in five minutes. A weapon of your choosing shall be provided to you from our armory, and may the best warrior prevail."
The chapter master quickly left the arena stands, eager to begin the bout, and Kephalon and Teliolux shared a look at the parting words, both knowing that this bout would be a one sided affair.
"He's been waiting for you to accept his proposal, cousin, for a while now. If it isn't apparent, he's excited."
A small chuckle escaped the Iron King astartes.
"I know, I had hoped that I wouldn't have to engage in such a duel before my rotation back to the Tagma, so as to keep my formation hidden for as long as possible, but your lord is of a keen intellect and uncovered our attempts at secrecy despite my efforts."
"Not much escapes his attention. He believes that the smallest details are of equal import to the greatest, and that all are to be observed and given equal consideration. He had noted that you carried yourself with the grace of a killer, a warrior of vicious intent with every move you make from the moment you stepped off the thunderhawk that brought you here."
That astounded Kephalon. If he could determine who was a warrior based upon how he carried himself, then what else could he determine based upon basic visual observation. The two marines stood and moved towards the armory, discussing the happenings in their respective chapters with the familiarity of family.
"So those two who fought in the arena were of the 3rd Company, and they are part of the command structure of your auxiliaries?"
"Those two are rising stars within the 3rd company, with sterling records and phenomenal dueling skills, though as I said earlier they preferred two handers to a proper blade."
"I utilize a power maul instead of a blade more often than not, though if I have to use one, I utilize our ziephos model more than anything, the short leaf bladed one."
Teliolux turned to look at his companion, emerald green eye lenses glinting in the nearby lumen.
"I remember it, cousin. Its the preferred weapon for CQC and ship boarding engagements, being just the right length for quick and efficient bladework in the narrow corridors of a ship, but for dueling purposes it is at a disadvantage when facing opponents with a longer reaching weapon or polearm."
"When they are at the range where a polearm or longer sword would be effective, and my weapon not, a bolt pistol loaded with frag rounds will put a stopper to any who would oppose me."
"Is that your preference, or those of your formation?"
Kephalon went silent for a moment, and sensing the unspoken request, Teliolux acquiesced.
"I understand, and yes, they are part of the command structure of the auxiliary regiments, specifically the 13th Auxiliary Regiment, which specializes in aggressive, rapid engagements. They have been instrumental in their successes, earning battle honors and winning campaigns aplenty."
"Your warriors are more cooperative with your auxiliaries than ours ever will. We typically let our Strategos and the commander of the auxiliaries discuss deployment, strategies and the like, and we work together, but we never are embedded within their command structure beyond a typical campaign. How familiar are they with their subordinates, cousin?"
A chuff came from the Noble Crusaders' First Captain, a mechanical twinge attached to the sound revealing his one and only imperfection. Teliolux had his throat ripped open by an ork blade long ago in some distant campaign only the Noble Crusaders have records of. He fought amidst the greenskin hord alongside three squads from the 1st Company with the gushing wound for three hours, driving back the tide of xenos to a comfortable distance from one of their chapter bastions within the sub-sector before falling to one knee, the apothecaries only then being able to reach him and drag him back behind the walls for treatment. His vocal chords, producing a voice matching the beauty and angelic nature of his lord, couldn't be saved, with a bionic augment replacement being inserted with the combined efforts of the apothecarion and the techmarine enclave of the chapter. He now speaks only when necessary to those beyond the trefoil of chapters, and even amongst the close brotherhood they share, only to a select few does he converse to with any regularity.
"Valentine, the one with the single bladed spear, recently attended one of the command staff's name day, in full parade regalia no less. The officer couldn't stop thanking him throughout the celebration, blubbering on and on about how much it meant to them that he actually remembered and attended."
Kephalon was surprised, and confused at this revelation. Why did the astartes remember the name day of a mortal officer? What was the point?
Teliolux noticed this, and soon made to answer the unspoken queries.
"It increases their loyalty to the astartes in command, with the mortal officers and soldiers seeming to find comfort that an astartes, one who is so far beyond them in lifespan and capability, took the time and effort to actually remember their names, much less personal details such as likes, dislikes, and important dates like their name day. They fight with the vigor of the zealot, determined to reward the commanding astartes for their efforts of actually caring. It is extremely effective, cousin. I would suggest trying this amongst your own auxiliaries, and comparing the results on their effectiveness before and after the implementation of such conduct."
"I will make a note to report your suggestion to my Strategos. I'm sure such wisdom from the First Captain of the Noble Crusaders will be given much consideration."
The two astartes soon reached the armory, with Teliolux waiting near the entrance, and Kephalon moving towards the handheld weaponry, looking down the rows upon rows of weapons with awe and reverence, for each one was a work of art, a deadly, yet beautiful tool to be cherished, tended to with care and used with extreme prejudice against whoever stood against the warrior wielding such weaponry. From great axes to small daggers, from short and long swords to spears, glaives and hammers, single and two handed, all were present in the Noble Crusader's armory, for every weapon has inherent value, and no astartes of the chapter was wont to be unskilled in any handheld weaponry, regardless of their preferences.
He noticed an astonishingly awe inspiring power maul, with an ink black haft, studded with bronze, contrasted by a flanged head of gunmetal grey with short brass spikes. He admired the craftsmanship, it was exquisitely constructed, nothing was beyond accepted parameters for how a maul should be created. It was the perfect length, perfect width, and once he took it from the rack and hefted it within his own hands, found that it was the perfect weight. Just right.
"It was forged for our 4th company champion, but he preferred his pollaxe, so it remains in our armory, awaiting a wielder worthy enough to carry it into battle."
"It is a fine weapon, cousin, and the one who wields it will cherish it for all time."
Teliolux nodded at this, and subtly connected to his lord over their shared vox channel, shielded from the envoy of the Iron Kings.
"My lord, he has found the maul."
A moment's pause before Holonnius responded.
"He has? Good, we'll give it to him as a gift for finally dueling me before his rotation back to his chapter. Honestly, I had thought for a moment that I would never get to duel him."
"It was his intention, you know, to not duel you during his tenure with our chapter," Teloilux responded.
"Perhaps it was to keep the formation as unknown as possible, as our cousins aren't known for their ability in the dueling arenas, more focused on artillery and bolters than they should. But I digress, have it ready to be presented to him the instant the duel is complete. Our preparations must go as planned in order for relations between our chapters to strengthen even further. Plus, I know how much my cousin prefers power mauls over more suitable weaponry, so why not give one of his warriors one as a gift?"
"An excellent idea lord, though do you plan on going easy on our esteemed guest?"
His lord laughed at that, a laugh that he had heard many times before, and shuddered at. It was a laugh that promised pain, pain to those who earned his ire personally. It was the laugh that followed the groans of pain from upstart marines who thought themselves higher than their station, or had received 'special' attention from the chapter master himself, in the form of long, exhausting, seemingly never ending drills, mock duels and exercises.
"I had been awaiting this day for an entire decade, Teliolux, to duel one of my cousin's warriors, those hidden from prying eyes, who would not display their martial skill openly. I have to test his mettle as a warrior, and to see if he is up to par, and what better standard to compare him to than myself?
"I promise to leave him intact, brother. All his limbs, phalanges and important bits will remain on his person, but I will not hold back."
Teliolux grimaced behind his helm.
"Of course, lord. Should I bring him to the dueling chambers now? It is nearing the five minute mark."
"Yes, go ahead and guide him to the arena. I'll be waiting."
And with that, the vox channel was closed, and he was left to his own thoughts.
'I do not envy you, cousin. For my lord has a tendency to go a bit beyond what is necessary when he doesn't limit himself. I have experienced this too many times to not understand the sheer pain you will experience. Good luck. You will need it.'
The Iron Kings astartes finally settled upon a blade, a masterwork item, a single-edged sword with a curved blade that narrowed towards the middle and swelled towards the tip, tapering off into a sharp point. It featured a hook-shaped grip made of the same metal as the blade, which was stylized in the shape of a horse, with a chain connecting the hilt and the hooked butt of the grip. A favored of those Noble Crusaders who value the strike more so than the thrust in a weapon, but still wished to retain some ability to stab the foe in righteous fury.
"Ah, the phalkata. A weapon favored by those who value frontal assault. It is a fine weapon, though I wonder about its dueling prowess."
"It is the one that calls to me the most, cousin. I shall wield this, for better or for worse."
Teliolux acquiesced to the choice, and ushered his companion towards the arena, where Holonnius was waiting, his best warplate gleaming in the overhead lumen, silver and gold painted onto the armor with painstaking precision into a conflagration of perfection. Kephalon noted that it was the chapter master's MK IV suit, his pride and joy, artificer armor that enhanced the wearer's combat prowess to an astonishing degree. While the master of the Noble Crusaders was a superlative warrior without it, clad in this armor, only a few within the Sector could rival him, and only one surpassed him. His own MK III suit, best suited for frontal assaults within closed confines, while brutally efficient in its intended role, did not possess a machine spirit as experienced as Holonnius', the suit only seeing three decades of service within the Tagma in his charge. While it performed honorably, it would not help him much in defeating such an opponent as a chapter master, the best a chapter could offer in all forms of warfare and battle.
A long sword lazily swung back and forth as Holonnius waited, a perfect weapon of war in the hands of its wielder as with all the weapons in the armory of the Noble Crusaders. A glance at his own blade, shorter by a sizable degree, made clear to him the disadvantage he had put upon himself, but the weapon felt right in his hands, and he wouldn't doubt himself now, right before the duel.
"I have waited a decade for his moment, cousin. I hope you are as ready, and excited, as I am," Holonnius proclaimed, sliding into a battle stance, weapon held in a close left guard.
"I will do my best to bring honor and glory to my chapter, my lord. Only my best will be given," replied Kephalon, sliding into a back guard.
It was over within a minute.
Kephalon rushed forward with an upward diagonal strike, intending on taking the initiative in the duel. He knew that if he played defensively, he would be picked apart and defeated without any chance to retaliate, especially against such a skilled opponent. He had killed many foes, traitors and xeno, who had tried this strategy, those too timid or so confident in their abilities as to give up the initiative. It only worked in certain scenarios, where the user was sufficiently skilled and had the innate knowledge of how and when to use it against the foe. He would never reach the skill level of Holonnius within the next few seconds, so all he had left was the attack. It was his only hope
Holonnius side stepped and brought his blade to bear, striking at Kephalon with blinding speed in a downward diagonal strike, aiming for the seam between his breastplate and helm. It forced Kephalon to abandon his strike and try to block, only just bringing the blade to bear in time. The ringing of metal on metal filled the arena, and Kephalon was pushed back by the strength of the blow, and by the speed of the retaliation. It astounded him.
He ducked under a horizontal swing, blocked a lightning fast downward stroke, and tried to regain the initiative, slashing and thrusting with the ferocity of an ork and the skill of an astartes, giving his all, as he said he would, but it was not enough. His opponent was too much, and he was forced back onto the defensive, his attacks blocked and curtailed seemingly with ease, his opponent controlling the fight with no sense of urgency, as if he wasn't even threatened by what he was facing. This continued for a few moments, until Holonnius decided to end the whole one-sided affair. The chapter master moved into his guard, faster than he could react, and he was disarmed, the blade clattering to the ground.
He leaned back from the blade pressed against the seam between his helm and the plastron, breathing heavily.
"Truly, you are a master of the blade, my lord. My apologies for such a short bout."
Holonnius removed the blade against his neck and returned it to his scabbard.
"I enjoyed the bout. It was a nice change of pace, and a great opportunity to learn from a fighting style other than that practiced within these halls. You were ferocious, fierce and strong, but lacked finesse. Power was behind your blows, in spades, and would down a lesser opponent with ease as you crushed through their guard, but against someone of equal skill, or higher, you will struggle. Focus on technique and speed of attack, and you will gain victories untold. Learn from this, Kephalon, and teach those under you the lessons of success."
He bowed deeply in gratitude, for it was a rare moment to be given advice and taught by someone as skilled as a chapter master, and from a different chapter no less. Despite the close kinship between the trio, it was still considered an honor to be taught by those who reside at the top.
"To show my thanks for dueling me in my arena, on the eve of your return to your brothers, I will present you a gift worthy of my cousins," Holonnius said, gesturing to something behind Kephalon.
He turned, and saw Teliolux carrying the power maul he had handled earlier. At the gesture, the First Captain moved towards the pair, and presented the weapon to him. He was stunned into silence, not quite believing what was happening, which garnered the attention of both Noble Crusaders, bringing amusement to both of them.
"Don't start thanking me now, I won't be able to handle the gratitude," Holonnius said, removing his helm, which revealed an amused smirk on the beatific countenance.
This started the Iron King, who accepted the gift from Teliolux with reverence, hefting the maul, swinging it back and forth, smiling behind his helm at how perfect the weapon was.
"I cannot express how thankful I am for this most treasured gift, my lord. The Iron Kings vow to return this kindness in kind, and pay it forward. We reaffirm our alliances and our bonds of friendship."
"May they last for all time," Teliolux said.
"Indeed, First Captain. May the bonds forged by our ancestors, and strengthened by our actions, last until the dreams of our Emperor are realized, and all the enemies of Mankind are scoured from His realm."