Secret War: Upon Blood Sands

Chapter 15: North? Or south?

Tathe raised an eyebrow as more Velrosian troopers approached after him, covering Attelus.

"I do not know how you know me, young man," said Tathe. "But please drop the sword; we have you surrounded."

Attelus frowned as first he thought, young man? When Attelus was a child, Tathe was a commissar cadet and young himself when he'd heard the stories. But that'd been twelve, fifteen years ago, so Tathe must now be in his thirties. He looked every one of those years and more.

Attelus gaped as; secondly, shock overtook him. How did he know him? How could he not know him? Tathe was a master swordsman, unrivalled in the Elbyran contingent; he'd killed Space Marines! Defeated daemons! After Attelus had studied the actual records of the Elbyran contingent, his awe and respect had only grown and grown. The propaganda had neglected the battles against daemonic entities, the Imperium of Mankind guarding their existence away from the mindless masses.

Tathe and his teams must've taken out the Sovrithan squads advancing north and southward.

Attelus started to back up the Velrosians enclosing him in, almost surrounding him. The three agents were approaching too. The one Attelus disarmed had drawn a knife.

"I said," said Tathe. "You are surrounded! Drop the sword! Now!"

Attelus had to fight the urge to do as ordered. Tathe's voice was full of power and authority; it reminded him of Inquisitor Enandra. It reminded him of Raloth.

"I'm sorry," said Attelus. "But I can't let myself get captured, again."

Attelus spun and sprinted north. His inhuman speed caught the guardsmen by surprise. A few opened fire, their las bolts tore through Attelus' wake, and there were cries as a few managed to hit a Velrosian in the crossfire. Attelus couldn't help curse.

"Hold your fire!" Tathe bellowed, and Attelus sensed the agents running after him.

Two troopers managed to step in Attelus way. He clenched his teeth and shouldered one with such momentum the soldier was sent off his feet and bashing against the wall. The other tried to grasp his flak jacket with calloused, thick fingers. Attelus knocked away his hand with a forearm, then man's elbow broke, causing him to cry out. Attelus' stolen sword blazed into life, and he sliced a widow, causing the glass to shatter inward. He lunged into what seemed an old office block. The cogitators were rusted almost beyond recognition, and the desks turned over or broken apart. Junk covered almost every inch of the vast, cavernous room.

The agents burst in a second after. He heard their light footfalls on the rockcrete floor. Attelus weaved and vaulted through the shattered, smashed interior. He wanted to turn and fight his pursuers; he wanted to test his skill against them; he wanted to kill them. He wanted their blood too...

Attelus shook away the thought and growled through clenched teeth. He couldn't give in to the bloodthirst; he had to get away. But if he managed to get away, where would he go? South to help Karmen and company? Or north to Adelana, Hayden and Delathasi?

The thought caused pain to course through his chest; it almost made him slow.

"Shit!" he snarled, snatched up a chair and hurled it at his pursuers with all his strength.

Attelus didn't hear a cry, just the shatter of it hitting something. He was disappointed but unsurprised and glanced back.

All three were only a few metres behind. Keeping pace. It'd been a long time since someone was able to keep up with him. This just reinforced his belief they were agents of Etuarq.

He weaved aside a turned over table, then leapfrogged over a still standing dividing wall. He got his first sight of the wall.

It was without windows, just featureless rockcrete and Attelus cursed again.