The Emperor's eyes were fixed on their leader, the greatest of them all. He was a giant almost as massive as Horus himself. Though he was draped in the same rude skins and armour as his followers; though his long, blond hair was dressed in similar backward style to theirs; though he hunched over the table and picked at the kingly food with grubby fingers, ignoring the cutlery provided, it was clear as day is from night that he was not the same as his followers.
He was the same as Horus. This was the presence he felt.
This savage was his brother.
Horus stared at the barbarian king. No fraternal feeling came to him. Instead he was flooded with dismay. By his brother's feet lay two enormous animals one a grey so glossy it was almost silver, the other black. They appeared to have no difficulty accepting their new environment and slept easily on the floor.
'Are those actual wolves?' Horus said, fascinated despite himself.
'After a fashion,' said the Emperor. He spared His son a brief, benevolent look. 'They resemble the animals of Old Earth, though l think you would find the Terran species disappointingly small if you ever saw one.'
'They look like wolves,' said Horus. He thought of his own Legion's badge, and his warriors' lupine affectations. They seemed trite and false by comparison to the men below. They were human wolves, walking on two feet. 'They live with wolves?' he said.
'They believe themselves kin to them. Wolves are important to their culture,' said the Emperor.
'These men are primitives,' said Horus guardedly. He tried to look past his prejudice to their potential. They were strong, and if they were as proficient in combat as they looked, would make excellent recruits for the Legions. At the same time, the idea of these brutes let loose in the stars appalled him. He tried to smother the emotion, but it squirmed in his mental grip and would not die. Of course his father read his mind. Of course.
The Emperor smiled, an expression felt more than seen. 'Are the gangs of Cthonia more civilised than these men? Are the techno-barbarians of Terra who fight in my name?'
One of the warriors was tapping at a decanter with a dirty fingernail, puzzled by the glass. A roar of laughter went up from his fellows as he accidentally pushed it from the table and it shattered on the marble floor. Glass skittered across the hall. Priceless purple amasec soaked into irreplaceable rugs.
'They know of war with guns,' said Horus. 'The Cthonians know technology. The stars were no mystery to us. These men carry swords of plain steel.' He avoided saying the word savages aloud, only just.
'Their highest art is the forging of steel,' admitted the Emperor. 'Their world has regressed to a pre-technological state, and if you saw it you would not be surprised why. It is a beautiful, savage place of ice, fire and monsters. A charming experiment in reconstructed mythologies.'
'What do you mean?'
'Fenris is a relic from the days before Old Night.'
Rarely did the Emperor refer to the past, even so obliquely as that. 'Are they fit to serve you, my lord?' asked Horus. He hurried on before the Emperor could reply. 'They will take much training. Think of the acclimatisation period. We have wiped out cultures more sophisticated than theirs. We should do the same to them.' It was a plausible lie. His objections to these wolf-kin were rooted elsewhere entirely, and he was ashamed of that.
'We have killed many similar societies, but we have welcomed hundreds more worlds like theirs into the Imperium. Fenris has complied. There will be no purge.'
Horus was bereft. He was no longer alone. He should not care, but he did. He was embarrassing himself.
Sensing his son's resentment the Emperor rested a hand on Horus' shoulder. The touch sent shivers into Horus' soul. Loving devotion welled in his hearts that he could not deny, try as he might.
'I understand your disappointment,' the Emperor said, amused. 'You and I have fought side by side for years. It is natural for you to feel this…' The Emperor's humour grew. Horus basked in it like he would the sunlight, even as it burned him. '…sibling rivalry. But I need him. We need him. He was made by me as you were. He is a brother for you, if you like. Brotherly competition is to be encouraged, because it will drive you on to greater efforts.'
The Emperor required Horus to look at Him, so Horus did.
'I know he is a little rough around the edges. Would you believe he challenged me to an eating contest?' The Emperor laughed softly. 'But I will tolerate no dissension between you. You are to cooperate. You must learn to make war together. I am relying on you to help me civilise him.'
'Impossible. He is a savage,' said Horus, unable to keep the word to himself any longer.
'I advise you not to underestimate him, Horus,' said the Emperor. 'He is woven from the same genetic threads that you are. He has conquered half a world a hundred times more savage than Cthonia. Had I not found him and taken him from his people, all of Fenris would have been his. The feat that would have been.' Once more, he smiled. 'Impressive. Do not underestimate him,' he repeated.
Horus' will buckled under the force of the Emperor's attention, but his misgivings would not retreat. He looked into his father's face. Few could do that. A poisonous worry gripped him that this new warrior would be able to do the same, that he was no longer unique. He was jealous, he realised. He would have to share the golden attentions of his father with another. The years they'd shared seemed reduced to an eye-blink. He thought they would last for all time, and just like that they were done. In that moment, everything changed forever.
'He could turn against you.' Horus suppressed a tremble in his voice.
'He will not,' said the Emperor with certainty. 'He will be as loyal as you are. His efforts will multiply yours, when he takes command of his Legion. Two of you, striding the heavens!' The Emperor was pleased. 'This is a propitious day.'
'You are going to give him a Legion?' said Horus. 'Forgive me, father, but is that wise?'
'I gave the gang lord of Cthonia his. It was your birthright, as it is his.'
Horus dropped his eyes. The Emperor radiated a sense of such wisdom. Once more, Horus was ashamed to have questioned Him.
'You are entitled to your misgivings, Horus,' said the Emperor. 'But you must make this work. He is only the first.'
I am the first, thought Horus before he could stop himself.
'If I can find him, and you, then the others will be located eventually. You must grow used to the idea that you are no longer alone.' His father was pleased by that thought. Horus could not be.
'If I cannot trust you to learn how to work with the others, and lead them as the first of my sons, then I have overestimated you,' the Emperor said.
He said it blandly, but the thought of disappointing his father struck Horus with a panicked dread. 'I will not fail you, father,' he swore. 'I shall befriend him. I shall help you teach him.'
