At this moment, the two primarchs universally acknowledged by the Imperium as barbarians were chatting and laughing as they exchanged views and insights. Even Lox felt that he had benefited greatly.
Exchange brought debate, and debate brought understanding.
Yet compared to Jaghatai Khan, who saw through everything, Leman Russ, drinking cup after cup in an attempt to get himself drunk, seemed deeply troubled.
A primarch's physique rendered most alcohol, and even poisons, completely ineffective. Perhaps only that monstrous Fenrisian mead could give the Wolf King a trace of drunkenness.
His Legion had suffered devastating losses after repeated wars. Even the White Scars Legion had surpassed them in strength. Russ was tormented by an intense sense of duty and guilt; Fenris's Wolf King was far gentler and more sensitive than his appearance suggested.
Russ still held fragments of regicide pieces in his hand. They were both regicide pieces and Horus.
He had to do something to make up for his mistakes.
The Wolf King recalled the Spear of Dionysus the Emperor had once bestowed upon him, the weapon that filled him with fear and disgust. Perhaps the time had come when he had no choice but to use it.
He hated the Spear of Dionysus because he knew that, once he held that weapon, he would inevitably fight one of his brothers to the death.
He loved every one of his brothers, from the bottom of his heart, though he rarely showed it in words.
The Khan saw through his brother's thoughts. Russ had not come to the Sky Eagle for any particular matter; he had simply come to vent the bitterness in his heart.
He had come seeking a brother's support and understanding, even if that brother was Jaghatai, the one he got along with least.
Lox had not forgotten