Brutus sat upright in his seat on the Four Kings Council.
His posture was composed and steady, his back straight and his hands folded on the table. His gaze neither intimidated nor evaded.
Behind him hung an enormous vertical banner bearing the emblem of the Sons of Horus. Under the lights, its glaring red eye looked particularly savage.
Broad shadows fell from the edges of the banner, shrouding Brutus in a veil of half-light and half-darkness, as though the light of Lupercal's Court deliberately skirted him, leaving his figure wrapped in a fathomless haze.
The other three members of the Four Kings Council sat before him.
The spacious round table was polished smooth as a mirror, reflecting everyone's blurred outline.
Apart from Aximand, the other two members had both been promoted by Brutus: Agares, commander of the Sons of Horus' 31st Company, and Brays, commander of the 85th Company.
There were few decorations they were entitled to display on their armor, but every mark had come from a real battlefield.
They were two keen blades Brutus had painstakingly forged. Now they sat calmly on either side of him, their eyes occasionally meeting in silent understanding before each looked away as though nothing had happened.
These two had been personally elevated by Brutus and granted the cores of Ringwraiths.
Deep within Agares' and Brays' breastplates, two dim glows of psychic energy pulsed slowly, dwelling quietly between their masters' bones and souls, binding their perception, reactions, and obedience to Brutus far more closely than those of ordinary Astartes.
They were of one mind with Brutus, with no division between them.
Except for Aximand.
Aximand sat on the other side of the round table, directly opposite Brutus.
He paid no attention to the looks Agares and Brays cast his way, merely sitting in