Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第36部分

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than　a　day　and　a　half　had　passed　—　since　he　had　stood　beside　the　Termite　borer；　his　head　bowed；　to
receive　the　blessing　of　an　Imperial　priest。
Had　the　Ecclesiarchy　known；　then；　that　this　was　to　be　his　fate？　Had　they　sanctified　his　soul　to
deny　it　to　the　Chaos　gods？　He　prayed　that　this　might　be　the　case。　He　prayed　as　hard　and　as　loud　as
he　could；　tried　to　fill　his　own　head　with　the　uplifting　sound。
“Your　Emperor　can’t　save　you　now；”　Furst　hissed　spitefully　in　Steele’s　ear。
The　mutant’s　master；　Mangellan；　was　on　the　dais　too；　strutting　around；　circling　his　captives；
waving　his　sceptre；　playing　to　the　crowd。　His　voice　rose　and　fell　as　he　half…chanted；　half…sang　words
in　some　ancient；　evil　language　—　words　that　Steele　didn’t　understand；　didn’t　want　to　understand。　He
knew　that　his　augmented　brain　wouldn’t　let　him　forget　those　words；　he　couldn’t　bear　that　they
would　be　captured　inside　him；　a　part　of　him。　They　were　dark　words；　cold　words。　Words　that　seemed
to　distort　space　itself；　to　punch　open　a　channel　to　a　more　malignant　realm。
But　the　words　were；　he　sensed；　coming　to　an　end。　Mangellan　had　whipped　his　audience　into　a
frenzy。　He　was　gesturing　at　the　pillar；　at　the　readied　sacrifices　—　the　colonel　and　the　confessor　—
with　the　sceptre　in　one　hand　and　a　large；　ornamental　dagger　clutched　by　the　jewelled　hilt　in　the
other。
And　now　he　turned　to　Steele；　rested　the　dagger’s　point　on　his　chest；　traced　the　outlines　of　the
symbols　that　had　been　daubed　onto　his　skin　—　and　Mangellan　sighed；　and　in　his　calm；　honeyed
voice；　he　said；　“You　should　have　joined　us　when　I　gave　you　the　chance。　A　shame　that　such　a　spirit；
such　an　intellect；　as　yours　should　have　been　wasted　on　a　lifetime　of　servitude　to　an　ungrateful
master。　You　could　have　been　anything　you　wanted　to　be；　Colonel　Steele。”
Steele　looked　him　in　the　eye；　and　he　said；　“I　was。”
And　at　that　moment；　a　ray　of　sunlight　streamed　into　the　courtyard；　through　the　network　of　iceformed
branches　above　their　heads；　and　glinted　off　the　dagger　as　Mangellan　drew　it　back；　let　the
crowd　see　its　blade　for　a　final　time　as　he　prepared　to　plunge　it　into　its　first　victim。
“Do　it；　master；”　breathed　Furst　eagerly。　“Do　it　now！　Cut　out　their　hearts！”
That　was　when　the　first　bomb　went　off。
98
Grayle　and　Palinev　had　timed　their　ascent　to　the　dais　perfectly。
Cloaked　in　their　purloined　robes；　they　had　given　themselves　enough　time　to　reach　Wollkenden
and　Steele　respectively　—　but　not　quite　enough　for　the　cultists　to　realise　that　their　numbers　had　been
swelled　by　two；　to　start　asking　questions。
The　explosion　ripped　through　the　courtyard；　incinerating　heretics　by　the　score　in　a　great　blossom
of　fire。　They　hadn’t　seen　it　coming；　hadn’t　spotted　that　their　enemies　were　walking　among　them　in
disguise。　And　Mikhaelev　had　placed　his　demolition　charge　well。　It　collapsed　two　huge　ice　trees；
their　razor　branches　falling　clear　of　the　dais　and　into　the　crowd；　where　they　sliced；　dismembered　and
decapitated。　Grayle　just　hoped　that　his　comrade　was　not　among　the　casualties；　that　he　had　had　time
to　get　clear。　He　concentrated　on　his　own　task；　concealing　his　lasgun　as　best　he　could　with　his　body
as　he　placed　its　muzzle　to　Wollkenden’s　chains。
The　heretics　were　screaming；　surging　away　from　the　site　of　the　first　blast…　to　where　the　second
was　waiting。
The　courtyard　became　a　seething　mass　of　panic。　None　of　the　heretics　knew　which　way　to　run；
but　they　trampled　each　other　in　their　haste　to　run　somewhere。
A　hand　came　down　on　Grayle’s　shoulder；　he　was　spun　around　to　face　a　suspicious　cultist；　whose
eyes　widened　at　the　sight　of　a　stranger’s　features　beneath　the　hood。　The　cultist　opened　his　mouth　to
yell　a　warning　that　might　have　been　heard　by　the　augmented　ears　of　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　even
over　all　the　noise。　Two　las…beams　struck　him　in　the　head；　one　more　in　the　shoulder；　and　he　went
down。
More　beams　flashed　from　the　surrounding　windows；　and　the　cultists　on　the　dais　cried　out；
scattered；　leapt　into　the　turmoil　around　them　rather　than　remain　sitting　ducks。　Grayle　prayed　that　his
comrades　knew　who　they　were　shooting　at；　that　they　wouldn’t　mistake　him　and　Palinev　for　their
targets。
Most　of　their　fire；　in　fact；　was　directed　at　Mangellan　—　but　he　was　well…protected；　by　the　Traitor
Guardsmen　around　him；　bustling　him　away　down　the　dais　steps。　Furst　scurried　along　behind　them；
keeping　close；　benefiting　from　their　armour；　although　Grayle　couldn’t　tell　if　the　traitors　had　even
seen　him　in　their　wake。
And　then　there　was　the　Chaos　Space　Marine。
He　leapt　from　the　dais；　reaching　the　edge　of　the　courtyard　with　one　powerful　spring。　He　smacked
into　the　palace　wall；　punching　through　the　ice　to　make　handholds　for　himself；　started　to　haul　himself
upwards。　Grayle　saw　Blonsky’s　face　in　a　window；　paling　as　a　gauntleted　hand　clamped　onto　the　sill
in　front　of　him。　He　drove　his　gun　butt　into　the　Chaos　Space　Marine’s　fingers；　but　couldn’t　dislodge
them。　He　turned　and　ran；　disappearing　from　Grayle’s　vieassive　form
through　the　small　window　after　him。
In　the　confusion；　no　one　had　thought　to　secure　the　would…be　sacrifices。　Perhaps　Mangellan
thought　them　secure　enough；　hadn’t　realised　that　his　enemies　had　already　got　to　them。　Grayle’s
lasgun　burnt　through　Wollkenden’s　chains　at　last；　and　the　confessor　fell　into　his　arms。
“Is　it　my　turn　to　speak？”　he　asked　weakly。　“I　must　say；　I　expected　a　little　more　discipline　from
the　troops。　Obviously；　I’ve　been　gone　too　long。　That’s　the　trouble　these　days；　no　leadership。”
“Please；　confessor；”　said　Grayle；　“I’m　trying　to　rescue　you。　Just…　just　hold　still…　sir；　please…　I
need　to　get　this　cloak　over　your　head。”
“Take　your　hands　off　me！”　bellowed　Wollkenden　—　and　he　pushed　Grayle　aside；　took　his　own
weight　unsteadily；　and　looked　around　like　a　startled　rabbit　about　to　bolt…
…as　Steele；　having　been　freed　and　disguised　by　Palinev；　strode　up　beside　him　and；　without
breaking　his　step；　threw　a　punch　to　Wollkenden’s　head　that　knocked　him　spark　out。　Grayle　and
Palinev　watched　in　abject　astonishment　as　the　colonel　hoisted　the　confessor’s　limp　body　over　his
shoulders。
“Well？”　he　barked　at　them。　“Are　we　getting　out　of　here　or　what？”
99
Barreski　could　hardly　breathe。
The　explosions　had　kicked　up　twin　plumes　of　smoke；　which　were　settling　now　upon　the
occupants　of　the　courtyard。　The　Chaos　worshippers　were　packed　too　tightly　around　him；　restricting
his　movement；　their　elbows　digging　into　his　ribs　and　his　stomach。　He　braced　himself　against　them；
knowing　that　if　he　let　his　guard　down　for　an　instant　he　would　be　crushed　between　them　or　just
overrun。
He　had　one　advantage；　though；　over　the　heretics。　He　knew　where　the　bombs　were　—　or　rather；
where　they　had　been；　because　Mikhaelev　had　only　had　two　demolition　charges　left　and　they　had
both　blown。　Barreski　had　placed　one　himself；　and　was　proud　of　his　handiwork；　the　carnage　he　had
caused。
A　hapless　cultist　lost　his　footing　and　fell　coughing　against　the　disguised　Ice　Warrior。　Barreski
took　the　opportunity　to　slip　his　knife　into　the　man’s　heart；　let　him　slide　to　the　floor。　Another　one　less
to　worry　about；　he　thought。
His　quarter　of　the　crowd　appeared　to　have　reached　an　unspoken　consensus。　They　had　chosen　an
archway；　an　escape　route；　through　which　to　evacuate；　had　started　to　move　together　instead　of
fighting　each　other。　Barreski　hoisted　himself　onto　the　shoulders　of　a　protesting　cultist　in　front　of
him；　and　he　screamed　out；　“Another　bomb！　Look！　There　it　is！　Can’t　you　see　it？　In　the　branches　of
that　tree！”
No　one　could　see　the　bomb；　because　it　didn’t　exist。　Still；　Barreski’s　words　were　enough　to　make
a　significant　number　of　the　heretics　turn　back；　to　fight　once　more　against　the　tide　of　their　fellows；　to
spread　more　panic。
He　glanced　up　at　the　dais；　and　saw　that　it　was　empty。　Grayle　and　Palinev　would　be　heading　for
their　preselected　exit；　taking　Steele　and　Wollkenden　with　them。　He　muttered　a　quick　prayer　for　their
safety。　It　was　time　for　him　to　get　out　of　here　himself。
Palinev　had　chosen　a　different　way　out　for　Barreski；　a　closer　one　to　his　position。　He　had　scouted
a　route　for　him　back　to　the　sewer　tunnel；　made　sure　that　he　had　memorised　the　directions。　Barreski
pressed　his　elbows　into　service；　and　started　to　force　his　way　across　the　yard。
And　that　was　when　he　saw　Mangellan；　his　traitor　escort　clearing　a　path　for　him；　using　their
lasguns　when　they　had　to。　And　he　was　just　a　few　metres　away…
He　couldn’t　resist　it。　He　knew　it　meant　giving　himself　away；　but　he　snuck　his　lasgun　out　from
beneath　his　robes；　flicked　its　power　pack　to　full　auto　and　squeezed　off　ten　las…beams　in　the　high
priest’s　direction。
The　traitors　reacted　quickly；　putting　themselves　in　the　line　of　fire；　deflecting　most　of　it　with　their
armour…　most　of　it…　Barreski　gave　a　triumphant　cry　as　one　of　his　beams　glanced　across
Mangellan’s　face；　causing　him　to　scream　out；　to　clap　his　hands　to　his　eyes。　But　now　he　had　his　own
safety　to　worry　about。
Already；　the　traitors　were　starting　to　move　towards　him。　He　had　to　lose　himself　again。　He　put　his
head　down；　tried　to　slip　away　amid　the　other　black　cloaks；　but　he　was　brought　up　short　by　a　brawny
cultist　with　a　knife。
“Did　you　see　him？”　bluffed　Barr