Chris Wright - Age of Sigmar - Omnibus

With a growl, the dracoth rolled to her feet. The globe of celestial power fell to the ground, much dimmed. Glavius picked it up, turning it this way and that as though examining the mote of power for damage.

‘Welcome back,’ said Theuderis, as Tyrathrax pushed herself up, shaking free dried blood and dead scales with a toss of her head. ‘There is still much fighting to be done.’

The dracoth gave an appreciative growl and lowered to the ground, inviting Theuderis to climb into the saddle upon her back. Her tail whipped in excitement.

‘My lord?’

Theuderis turned before he mounted to see the Knight-Venator Hastor descending. The Lord-Celestant raised an arm to beckon him.

‘You had another message from your lord,’ said Theuderis.

‘I did, and he bade me repeat it exactly.’ The knight paused for a breath before receiving a nod to continue. ‘I have entreated the aid of… a local power. The skaven are unearthing the realmgate in the depths of Ursungorod. They are close to activating it. Hastor bears warning of an ambush, but I fear he will be too late. I trust you will survive, and no matter what manner of force you lead afterwards you must make all haste to the rendezvous. We have no time to spare.’

‘What power does your lord speak of?’

‘Power?’ Hastor understood Theuderis’ meaning after some thought. ‘Ah, I see. She is a sorceress, the Queen of the Peak. Or was.’

‘Was a sorceress? What do you mean?’

‘I do not know the whole tale, Lord Silverhand. She has dwelt in Ursungorod since Arkas’ mortal life. She was an ally of my commander when he was known as Arka Bear-clad.’

‘What manner of aid did she give? What sorcery?’

‘I do not know, Lord Silverhand.’ The Knight-Venator shrugged. ‘Lord Arkas sent me soon after and none but he passed into her tower. I believe he received a warning of the attack, amongst other information.’

‘What do you know of a realmgate beneath Ursungorod?’

‘Nothing, Lord Silverhand. I left my commander at the tower of the Queen of the Peak as his army made camp on a frozen lake called Icemere. What has happened since, what my lord saw, is beyond my sight.’

‘Of course,’ said Theuderis. ‘What were your orders once this message had been delivered?’

‘Unfortunately, Lord Silverhand, in his haste I believe Lord Arkas overlooked that necessity. I am, for the moment, at your service. Do you wish me to return to the Warbeasts?’

Theuderis thought about this as he pulled himself up onto Tyrathrax’s back. The dracoth growled contentedly under the familiar weight.

‘Remain with Knight Samat and his Angelos Conclave for the time being. I will compose a reply to the Warbeast for you to take.’

Hastor accepted this judgement with a slight bow. He waited in silence for a few heartbeats longer.

‘You may go.’

‘I am obliged, Lord Silverhand,’ the Celestial Vindicator replied with a further bow. His star-eagle had been sitting in the branch of a burnt-out tree above. It let out a long screech and swooped down, reaching its master just as his wings snapped into streamers of light and lifted him skywards.

‘These Warbeasts are strange warriors,’ said Attaxes. ‘They stand on ceremony yet I hear they are also ill-disciplined and swift-tempered.’

‘I do not like this talk of native sorceresses,’ Theuderis told the Knight-Heraldor and Glavius. ‘Ursungorod has been under the yoke of Chaos for centuries, the taint runs deep. There is no power here that is good, save the power of Sigmar that we bring with us.’

‘I am sure that Lord Arkas is beyond any corruption,’ Glavius said quickly, misunderstanding Theuderis’ meaning.

‘Of course, he is Stormcast,’ the Lord-Celestant replied. ‘His heart and spirit I do not doubt. His wit and wisdom, on the other hand, might be all too easily swayed by the wrong notions. The God-King knows best his own strategy, but I would not have sent a commander as unpredictable as the Warbeast back to his home realm. We have only a single purpose here, the liberation of the realmgate.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Attaxes. ‘All other considerations are secondary.’

‘There are no other considerations.’ Theuderis leaned closer to Glavius. ‘Speak with Samat, have him discuss with Hastor the surest route to the rendezvous. And get him to find out all he can about the Warbeast and this sorceress from the Knight-Venator. I do not like mysteries. I expect a full account by nightfall.’

‘Yes, my lord, as you will it.’ The Lord-Relictor bowed and withdrew to the other Knights Excelsior.

‘I overheard the Warbeast’s message, my lord,’ said Attaxes. ‘He seemed insistent that we proceed with haste.’

‘Indeed. Form column, Javelin formation, ready to depart at my command.’

The Knight-Heraldor had his clarion lifted even as he turned away. Soon the notes of the command call pealed across the devastated forest. Theuderis watched as his retinues fell into line, five files wide, with the Justicars at the tip, the other Stormcast taking the inner places behind their missile weapons. It was a fragile formation, able to move at speed and negotiate rough terrain with ease, but it left his army strung out over some distance.

Looking at the ground scattered with hundreds of beastmen corpses and the carcasses of manticores, griffons, gargants and Chaos spawn, he knew the risk of another attack was minimal.

‘Judgement awaits!’ he cried. At a tap from his heels, Tyrathrax broke into a run, taking him to the head of the column. He galloped on. ‘Swift justice!’

The Stormcast Eternals broke into a run as Theuderis continued into the forest, their long strides covering the ground with speed.

Even surrounded by Prosecutors circling like hungry eagles, their hammers and javelins burning with celestial light, the woman looked remarkably calm. She was older than Arkas had expected, nearly sixty he would have guessed, though she held herself straight and showed no infirmity. The tribal elder, for such she had to be in the estimation of the Lord-Celestant, was short even for a mortal, no taller than his hammer was long. The bow in her hand was of bone and wood, recurved in the style of the ussra valley riders of the north, though the sword in her other hand was straight and double-edged in the manner of the kimmeri warriors from the ice caves above the Bear’s Pelt. Her cloak was from a black-and-grey ice bear, trimmed and tied with leather thongs. The fangs of her necklace were delicately carved with lettering, distorted over many years from the forms that Arka had used, but still readable.

‘Whose names do you wear?’ he asked in the old language, pointing to the inscribed teeth. ‘Your mothers’?’

She started, eyes showing surprise for the first time since the huge warriors had marched into view across the flat stretch of ice that became the Bear’s Pelt glacier. The stranger had stopped and waited for them, weapons bared but held at her sides. Arkas had recognised it not as an act of defence or aggression but one of trust — a tribal custom that declared ‘Here I am, I hide nothing’.

‘You speak as we?’ she said as she recovered from the shock. Her speech was oddly inflected but not so different from the tongue the Bear-clad had shared with the other tribes. She glanced down at her necklace. ‘Yes, mothers and mothers’ sisters.’

The woman had been staring at Arkas since he had approached, her brown eyes soft in colour but unflinching. Now she looked away to glance at the other Stormcasts before returning her stare to the Lord-Celestant.

‘You are the warriors of the tempest.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘Soldiers of the heavens.’