‘A king without a kingdom is no king, but a vagabond. His suffering would have been pleasant meat to savour,’ said Typhus. ‘You court disaster in confronting him. This employment of the Hand of Darkness is convoluted and foolhardy. Simplicity was the watchword of our Legion – the direct attack, the weathering of pain, not this deviousness. This was not the plan of the Great Father.’

‘It is my plan!’ said Mortarion, his gloomy voice rising stridently. ‘And its success will honour the Great Father. He entrusts us with our will and our initiative. I will use mine. He will be pleased.’

‘If you succeed,’ said Typhus. He looked around the horarium disdainfully. ‘You are blinded by the past as always, my lord. You look to Barbarus and remake it wherever you go. Embrace change fully. Embrace Chaos. Abandon these schemes. Let us drown Ultramar in disease and move on.’

Mortarion flung up his arms and spread his wings. ‘I have, and this is my reward! I am remade in terrible image. I am become death!’

‘You do not believe. Not truly,’ said Typhus. ‘You have paid nothing for your power. The false Emperor made you, gene-father. Nurgle took you as a prize – you are a trophy, my lord. You would never have found your way to enlightenment without me. Without me, you would have nothing. You would be dead, your soul dispersed into the warp. I fought my way into the Great Father’s attention. I became his herald by will and by the dint of my own efforts. What have you done to win his favour?’

‘Curb your insolence,’ said Mortarion.

‘Or what, my lord? I have Nurgle’s favour. You would not dare to move against me. You think that you are in control, that your new being is separate from the warp and yours to do with as you will. It is not. It is Nurgle’s. You must submit to him fully, or Grandfather will have hard lessons for you. This plan of yours, to lead your brother on Nurgle’s dance, it is ill-conceived. If we must strike, strike now. We should gather our fleets and cripple his forces while they gather at Macragge. Do not allow him the luxury of time to consult with his warriors, or consolidate his position.’

‘Do not presume to tell me what to do,’ said Mortarion. ‘You will work with us.’

‘I will do as I please,’ said Typhus. ‘If only you would abandon the last of your being to the lord of life, you would see. You have no power over me. You do not truly understand. If you did, then you and I might be reconciled.’

‘Do you level the same criticism against Ku’gath, first captain?’ said Mortarion icily. ‘You dare speak to him in that way?’

‘He is as flawed as you, in his own way,’ said Typhus. ‘Maudlin where you are nostalgic.’