‘Protos in the west will take the third tetrarch. To this role, I have assigned Captain Balthus of the Doom Eagles. I have confirmation that he has been released by his Chapter and is making his way to Macragge.’

Guilliman pressed his finger at the edge of the map. There, his new Ultramar bowed out in a long, curving tail towards the Eastern Fringe, taking in many planets that had not known Macragge’s rule for long ages.

‘That leaves the eastern marches. This area, under the Sotharan League, remained politically unified until recently, but since the fall of Sotha itself to the tyranids the League has been without proper guidance, and I hear troubling reports regarding its efficiency. This will change. Vespastor, three light years from Sotha, is designated the new seat of authority there, and its tetrarch will rule over the Sotharan League and the eastern shieldworlds besides.’ Guilliman looked behind him at his equerry. ‘Captain Felix, Primaris Ultramarine, will take command.’

Felix, who was standing to the right of the primarch’s throne, looked thunderstruck.

‘My lord, I am not qualified!’ blurted the equerry.

‘You are qualified because I say you are qualified,’ said Guilliman matter of factly. ‘I have been testing you ever since your records were brought to my attention. Why do you think I inducted you fully into the Ultramarines from my Unnumbered Sons? I saw your potential a long time ago, Felix. I have been training you for this role. You have not disappointed me. I need a Primaris tetrarch. All the Space Marines in the eastern quadrant of Ultramar will be of the Primaris type, and many others throughout Ultramar also. I cannot afford any dissension between the two generations of Space Marines.’

Guilliman surveyed the room, looking between the differing sorts of Space Marine.

‘You may protest that this will never happen,’ he continued. ‘Archmagos Cawl can assure me that you are made to be loyal. You of the older type may cite your records of sacrifice and devotion, but I know the souls of men. I have heard protestations of loyalty before, and witnessed unintended slights burn them to ash. Where there is difference, there is space for envy, and envy leads to conflict. I will have none of it. Three of the four tetrarchs will be Space Marines of the existing type. You will accept this offer, Felix – the books must be balanced. Eighty-six worlds will be yours. Some of them are lost, and you will require all the arts I have taught you to recover them. It shall fall to you, as Tetrarch of Vespastor, to govern them all for the good of their peoples, and to be a spokesman for the Primaris Space Marines upon the Council of Greater Ultramar. All of you tetrarchs have similar burdens.’

‘My lord!’ Felix fell to his knees, his armour banging loudly on the stone.