Ragnar was not stung by the address, as he would have been had it come from almost any other man. Grimnar was centuries old, compared to him Ragnar was still but a child. “I would do what I did again, Great Wolf, under similar circumstances.”
“I am glad to hear it. Under the same circumstances I might have done what you did, Ragnar. On the other hand I might not. To take it upon yourself to use the weapon of Russ himself might be considered presumptuous. Some think you should be punished for doing so, others believe that it marks you for great things.”
“What do you think, Great Wolf?”
“I think you are a youth of great promise, Ragnar. Beyond that, I do not know. I do not wish to waste that promise, but at the same time you are a source of dissension among the Wolves. And at this moment in time we can afford no dissension. I fear that if I take no action against you, others might.”
Ragnar knew what he meant. Cold-blooded killings were rare among the Wolves, but other things could happen. In the heat of battle a stray bullet might find him. Comrades might be slow to come to his aid at a moment of deadly peril. Such things were never talked about, even though they happened. And if he was thought to be a blasphemer, or a traitor, they might happen to him.
“What would you have me do, Great Wolf?”
“I would put you out of harm’s way, in a place where you might do some good.”
“Exile, Great Wolf?”
“That would be one way of looking at it. Tell me Ragnar, what do you know of the Wolfblades?”
Ragnar sifted through the memories that had been implanted by the training engines when he was an aspirant.
“They are Space Wolves sent to Holy Terra to fulfil our treaty obligations with the House of Belisarius. We provide them with bodyguards in return for the Navigators they provide us.”
“That is true insofar as it goes, Ragnar, but Wolfblades are much more. They train the Celestarch of Belisarius’s House troops and lead them into battle.
“They act as his strong right arm when there is need. They slay his enemies in open battle and by stealth if need be.”
Ragnar could see where this was going.
“You wish me to go to Blessed Terra, Great Wolf?”
“There is need. Adrian Belisarius, the Celestarch, and a good friend to our Chapter, is dead. One of our battle-brothers died with him, Skander Bloody-axe, an old comrade of mine from my Blood Claw pack.”
Ragnar could see sadness in the old warrior’s face. There were few left from that generation in the Chapter now, and Grimnar and this Skander must have been among the last. There were no closer comrades in the Chapter than those who had gone through their initiation and basic training together, and who had been part of the same initial unit. They were almost siblings in a very real sense.
“Yes, Ragnar, I want you to go to Earth. And I want you to keep your ears open. One of the Wolves has died on holy soil, and I want to know what happened. What really happened! I have had reports. I want to know if they are true.”
“Do you seek vengeance, Great Wolf?” It was a presumptuous question, but Ragnar felt compelled to ask it. Grimnar shook his head slowly.
“If it is in the interests of the Chapter, Ragnar, I will take vengeance. If not, I would still like to know what happened.”
Ragnar considered the Great Wolfs words. Obviously, he could not commit the Chapter to wholesale bloodletting on the sacred soil of Terra. Nor could he simply order the assassination of some powerful man there without consequences.
He also knew that whatever the old man said, Logan Grimnar had a long memory, and he would find a way, if need be, to claim the blood price for his old comrade. It was the Fenrisian way.
“I will do my best,” said Ragnar.
“Do so, Ragnar, and let no one know that you are about this business.”
“How will I let you know my findings?”
“There are ways, Ragnar, channels of communication between Fenris and Belisarius. You will be told them before your departure. Also, Adrian Belisarius was assassinated. His daughter is with us on Garm but must return to swear allegiance to his successor. You will see that nothing untoward happens to her on her journey to Earth.”
“You think something might, Great Wolf?”
“If someone could assassinate the ruler of House Belisarius when he is surrounded by guards, then they have a very long arm and a very powerful one.”
“Yes, Great Wolf.”
“You may go, Ragnar.”
Ragnar knelt before departing, leaving the old man deep in thought over his scrolls.
“It’s not bloody fair,” said Sven. “You lose the Spear of Russ and they send you to Terra. What would they do if you had managed to destroy it? Make you Great Wolf?”
“That is not something to joke about, Sven,” said Ragnar.
“Who is bloody joking?” Sven gestured around his meditation cell with its sleeping that, armour stand and weapon racks for furnishing. “I get this! You get the fleshpots at the heart of the Imperium!”
“Earth is a holy planet, Sven.”
“Earth is as holy as a hornweed addict’s visions. It’s the capital of the Imperium. All the nobs are there and I don’t think they spend their time fasting and meditating.”
“You might be surprised.”
“I bloody well would be if they did! I can’t believe they are sending you. What is needed is a man of tact, diplomacy and vision, a man with enough sense not to have lost the Spear of Russ. A man like me! You think if I asked Grimnar he would let me go along?”
“I think if you asked Grimnar he would lock you up. The last thing we need is a brainless ape running amok in the streets of Holy Terra!”
“Then why are they sending you?”
“Because it suits them,” said Ragnar seriously. “Anyway, I just came to say farewell. It seems the ship is outward bound in six standard hours, and I have to get ready.”
There was a long silence. In the years since they had been aspirants together, Ragnar and Sven had become fast friends. More than once they had saved each other’s lives. But now Sven was a Grey Hunter, and Ragnar was something else, destined for a life in limbo as a Wolfblade, perhaps for the rest of his life.
A great gap had opened between them, and it was not just distance. Both of them knew it, despite the banter. Sven would be going to war and battle with the Chapter, while Ragnar was going to be stuck guarding the spoiled aristocrats of the Navigator Houses. Any dreams he might have had for a glorious destiny, of inscribing his name in the annals of the Chapter, would have to be given up. He would probably be remembered as the man who had lost the Spear of Russ. He would be the butt of jokes and maledictions of every new generation of aspirants.
Briefly he considered going to Grimnar and asking to be allowed to stay on, but he knew he could not. His fate was sealed. It was his duty to go to Earth. In a way, it was a punishment for his deeds, and a way to atone for his mistake. But I would do the same thing again, he thought defiantly.
Sven had stuck out his hand, and they clasped wrists. “Watch your back,” he said. “Without me to pull you out of the fire, you’re going to have plenty of trouble.”
“Most of my troubles came from your blundering attempts to help,” said Ragnar half-heartedly.
“By the time you get back I will have blundered my way to Wolf Lord,” said Sven. “They’ll be singing my praises in the sagas.”
“Why bother with sagas singing your praises when you do it so well yourself!”
“Go on, get out of here! You have a ship to catch.”
Ragnar was surprised to find there was a lump in his throat as he turned to go, but he did not look back.
Ragnar reported to Ranek’s chamber. His personal possessions had already been sent to the shuttle. He bore only his weapons and such gear as a Space Wolf was expected to carry into battle.
“A Wolfblade, eh?” said the old priest. “You’ve found an interesting trail to follow.”
“What do
you mean?” said Ragnar.
The old man laughed savagely. “Earth,” he said. “Holy Terra. The Blessed Planet. The Seat of the Emperor. The Hub of the Imperium. The biggest snake pit in the galaxy.”
“It can’t be that bad,” said Ragnar.
“Can’t it? What do you know about such things, lad?”
“Not much but—”
“Earth is the hub of the Imperium. It’s the centre of government, the setting of mankind’s greatest temples, the home of our wealthiest and most powerful merchant houses. And the most corrupt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, where there is government and where there is money, there is corruption. And there is no place in this universe that has more government and more money than Old Earth. You be careful there, laddie.”
“I will just be a bodyguard,” said Ragnar.
“Is that what you think? Don’t be so naive. You will be seen, quite rightly, as a representative of our Chapter. They will judge us by you, read things into your actions that you would never expect. You will be a living symbol of who and what we are, and don’t you ever forget it.”
“I will try not to.”
“You will do more than try, lad. Remember these words and obey them, or I will personally come to Earth and rip your lungs from your chest.”
“Very well, Rune Priest.”
The old man’s voice was gentler now. “There’s no need to be huffy, laddie. Just remember what I have said, and do your best. It will be more than enough.”
“What will my duties be?”
“You will be a soldier of the Celestarch. You will obey him as you would your own Wolf Lord. You will fight at his command, and you will die if need be. What else would you expect?”
“What if I am ordered to fight against the Imperium, or my battle-brothers? If Earth is so corrupt?” Ragnar realised he sounded sullen, and that he only asked the question to be contrary. But the reply surprised him.
“What would you do if your Wolf Lord ordered you to commit heresy?”
“I would depose him.”
“If he turned out to be a traitor sworn to Chaos?”
“I would kill him.”
“Having a bodyguard can be a two-edged sword, can’t it, young Ragnar?”
Ragnar considered what he was being told. If he understood the Wolf Priest correctly, he was being given leave to assassinate the Celestarch of Belisarius should he prove disloyal to the Imperium. Ranek appeared to read his thoughts.
“Our pact with House Belisarius predates the Imperium itself. Some members of the Administratum dislike it, but they have to accept it. They know that we keep this Navigator House honest. The Celestarchs of Belisarius have been good men and women, Ragnar. They are loyal to us and to the Imperium and we have always been part of the reason for that. No matter what you see or hear on Terra you should remember that, before passing judgement.”
“The Great Wolf said Adrian Belisarius was assassinated, and so was our brother Skander. Who would do such a thing? Heretics?”
Ranek laughed. “The reports say they were fanatics of some new cult, but many people would do such a thing Ragnar. It might have been these supposed fanatics. It might have been a rival House, or a faction in the Administratum that supports those rivals. It might even have been an ambitious relative of the Celestarch himself.”
“What?”
“Not everyone follows our code, Ragnar. As I said, Earth is the locus of the greatest concentration of power and wealth in our universe. These things have a way of distorting morality. I repeat: watch yourself.”
Ragnar did not quite know whether the priest meant he should keep a close eye on those around him or on his own morals. Perhaps he meant both. It appeared that he was to face other perils than those of battle.
“Aside from assassins, what other dangers might there be?”
“You may be called upon to lead House troops or perform clandestine actions in support of the Celestarch’s wishes. You will be briefed on your arrival by your fellow Wolfblades. Pay attention to them. Some of them have been on Terra longer than you have lived and know of its pitfalls and hazards.”
Ragnar felt his heart sink. It appeared he was in for a long exile. Ranek seemed to read his thoughts.
“Space Wolves can live for centuries, Ragnar. In the great scheme of things a few decades is not much to lose.”
“I would rather be here with Berek’s company than playing nursemaid to Navigators.”
“Your wishes do not enter into this, Ragnar. And keep those thoughts about your duties to yourself. We expect your performance and behaviour to be exemplary. Never forget, some of the folk you meet, many of them very powerful, will judge us by you. And some of them may use your failures against us. We have many enemies among the factions of the Administratum as well as many allies. Imperial politics are a vast and complex web.”
Ragnar did not quite follow what the old man was saying. His training had been in battle and warfare, not politics. It looked like his duties were going to be more complicated than he had expected.
“The Great Wolf said there would be ways of communicating with Fenris should the need arise. He said I would be told them before I departed.”
Ranek gave a grim smile. “Did he now? I wonder why he would do that… No, don’t tell me. Should the need arise, go to Brother Valkoth of the Wolfblades. He will know what needs to be done. But be circumspect. And Ragnar, one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“Many great Space Wolf leaders have been Wolfblades. It does us no harm to have warriors who know how the Imperium works and who have personal contacts within its hierarchy. Use your time on Earth well. Logan Grimnar does nothing without purpose. Remember that!”
Ragnar felt his spirits rise. Perhaps in a roundabout way he was being groomed for leadership. Or perhaps this was just Ranek’s way of raising his morale. Whatever the case, it was working.
“Now, en route to Terra, keep a careful eye on Gabriella. She is Adrian Belisarius’s daughter, and she may be the target of an assassination attempt herself.”
Ragnar looked at the Wolf Priest’s lined and chiselled face. “You think some of our people might kill her?”
“You are not travelling on one of our ships, Ragnar. We cannot spare them. You will be returning on the courier that brought us the news from Terra. The Herald of Belisarius will not be secure. Stay close to the girl and see that nothing happens to her. You may go now.”
Ragnar walked towards the door of the chamber. “And Ragnar…”
“Yes?”
“See that nothing happens to yourself either. Farewell.”
“Farewell,” Ragnar felt another lump in his throat. He liked Ranek, and trusted him. And he realised he might never see the old man again. Old age or battle might claim either of them. Such were the realities of a Wolfs life, he told himself.
As Ragnar strode down the quiet corridors, he realised how isolated he was. He would be on his own, far from his battle-brothers, for an incalculable distance for an unspecified amount of time, and for the first time since he had joined the Chapter. He felt a pang of loneliness, almost like pain.
Then unaccountably his heart lightened. He would also be free, in a way that he had not been in years. He was setting out on a great adventure, to the holiest and deadliest world of the Imperium. He would look upon the temples and palaces of Terra, and their glittering inhabitants. And it sounded like there would be danger and intrigue enough to occupy him.
Slowly his step lengthened, and he found that he was trotting and then running towards the loading bays where the shuttles waited.
CHAPTER THREE
Ragnar strode through The Herald of Belisarius beside Gabriella Belisarius. Sailors and retainers greeted her formally and respectfully. Many of them flinched when they saw the massive Space Wolf standing at her shoulder. He could tell from their scents that he made some uneasy and others downright afraid.
“Your crew seems scared of
me,” he murmured.
Gabriella turned and smiled up at him. She was a severe looking woman: tall, slender, with very long black hair and a face that was all angles. She was beautiful in an inhuman way, and the black dress uniform somehow enhanced that beauty.
Now that she was on the ship — her home territory as it were — she had removed the scarf from her forehead to reveal her third, pineal eye. “They are a trading crew. They are not used to having one of the fabled Space Wolves aboard. The folk of Terra are a little more cosmopolitan, I think you will find.”
It was obvious that she did not share her crew’s nervousness, but then again why should she? She had just spent a decade among the men of the Fang. He wished he could read her moods better. The Navigators smelled different from other humans. There was something alien about their scent. Alien and well nigh unreadable.
Ragnar knew they had been bred for countless generations to guide starships across the interstellar void. They had done so since before the founding of the Imperium. Somewhere, their gene line and that of normal humanity had parted company. Ragnar knew that they were no longer human but they were tolerated by the Imperium because they were necessary. Without Navigators interstellar voyages would take years or decades, if they could be made at all. Travel through the warp was treacherous even with a Navigator. Without one, it could be deadly.
Ragnar considered this, as he considered the woman before him. Their skills had brought the Navigator Houses wealth beyond measure. Belisarius had sent a ship to bring the news of Gabriella’s father’s death to the Wolves. Granted it had also brought trade goods and a request for a new Wolfblade, but even so the thought was staggering. Ships were enormously expensive. Belisarius had its own fleet, one considerably larger than that owned by the Space Wolves. Ragnar knew this from the histories. They had leased ships to the Wolves on very favourable terms when they were needed. It was one aspect of the ancient alliance between the two.
“What are you thinking?” Gabriella asked, as they made their way to the command deck. She was going to guide the ship home to Terra. The Navigator who had brought it, a cousin, was to stay on with the Wolf fleet as her replacement.