'That's where He is, not what He's doing, you sly orm. Don't try to fob me off. Will He not speak with me even now?' said Russ. 'He cannot,' said Malcador simply.

Russ bracketed one of the darker pieces with two of his white and took it. 'First blood. I shouldn't read anything into that either. A dead scout is not a war won.'

Malcador moved a piece. Russ tracked the movement with his eye closely. His post-human brain idly calculated the myriad possible following moves. Russ loved to play Hnefatafl, but it was too easy for him to win.

'You're a crafty old bastard, Malcador,' said Russ. He moved a piece, then lost one.

'You're enjoying this war.'

Russ glanced up from the board. 'Why do you say that?'

'You find life too easy. This war is not.'

'Get out of my head,' growled Russ.

'So you admit I am right.'

Russ moved a piece. 'There's nothing to admit, if you can look in here and read my mind.' He tapped his head with his fingertip so hard it locked.

'You are set on facing the Warmaster.' Malcador looked at him expectantly.

'Take your turn,' said Russ. Malcador moved a piece 'You know I am,' Russ continued. 'I'd been waiting for Loken and your band of lost souls to come back. I needed to know what had happened, that his mission was a success.'

'Was it?'

'You know that it was. Stop pretending,' said Russ. 'You know that I was always going to leave.'

'Your brothers are not happy.'

'They knew too. I haven't lied to anyone.'

'They need you,' said Malcador. He made a deliberate move.

'I thought you weren't going to try to convince me to stay.'

'I'm not,' said Malcador. 'But you've fought two successful campaigns since you returned. You have value here.'

Russ made a dismissive noise. 'All that parading around the segmentum edge? I had to do something to keep my mind busy, and stay away from Dorn's sanctimonious lecturing.'

'I thought you got on with Dorn.'

'We do get on. I respect him, hel, I like him, but he is a different man to me, and his methodology plucks at my nerves after so long a stay. Only Guilliman and Perturabo are more boring than he is.'

A rare smile crept across Malcador's thin lips. 'Do you know, I did tell your father to make you more personally compatible with each other. But He believed you all needed to be different to fit the tasks He had ordained for you, and that rivalry rather than blind affection would drive you to greater heights.'

'That worked, didn't it?' said Russ sourly. 'Sometimes I think the Emperor isn't half as clever as He thinks He is.'