To Eidolon, the survivors of the first wave were ignorant and mindless, deserving only death, but they had reckoned without Lucius. He licked his lips at the thought of once again facing the warriors of his Legion; warriors worthy of the name. Enemies he could respect. Or earn the respect of...

Lucius could practically see the enemy squads deploying with such rapid confidence that they looked more like players in a complex parade-ground move than soldiers at war.

He could taste the moment when the battle would really begin.

He wanted it right there and then, but he also knew how much more delicious the taste of battle was when the timing was perfect.

Windows shattered as fire from the tanks ripped through the chapel, kicking up shards of marble and gla.s.s.

*Hold!' ordered Lucius. Despite everything, his Astartes were still Emperor's Children and they would not break ranks like undisciplined World Eaters.

He risked a glance through the splintered gla.s.s to see the Land Raiders churning up the marble of the plaza. Predator battle tanks followed them, acting as mobile gun platforms that blew great shuddering chunks from the chapel's battlements. Lascannon fire streaked back and forth, Kaitheron's men attempting to cripple the advancing vehicles and the Land Raiders' sponson-mounted weapons trying to pick off the Astartes on the roof.

A Predator tank slewed to a halt as its track was blown off and another vehicle burst into multicoloured flames. Purple-armoured bodies tumbled past the window; corpses served as an appetizer to the great feast of death.

Lucius drew his sword, feeling the music build inside him until he felt he could no longer contain it. The familiar hum of his sword's energy field became part of the rhythm and he felt himself slipping into the duelist's dance, the weaving stream of savagery he had perfected over centuries of killing. How many men were in the a.s.sault? Certainly a large chunk of Eidolon's command.

Lucius had fewer men, but this battle was all about winning glory and spectacle.

A tank round shot through a window and burst against the ceiling, showering them in fragments and smoke.

Lucius saw streaks of bolter fire from the palace entrance a Tarvitz was drawing Eidolon in and Eidolon had no choice but to dance to his tune. He heard a musical clang and saw the a.s.sault ramps of the Land Raiders slam open and Lucius glimpsed the close-packed armoured bodies within.

*Go!' he yelled and the jump packs of the a.s.sault units opened up behind him, catapulting the warriors into battle. Lucius followed in their wake, vaulting through the chapel window. Squad Nasicae came after him and the rest of his warriors followed in turn.

Battle: the dance of war. Lucius knew that against an enemy like Eidolon, there would be no time for anything but the most intense applications of his martial perfection. His consciousness shifted and everything was snapped into wondrous focus, every colour becoming bright and dazzling and every sound blaring and discordant along his nerves.

The duelist's dance took him into the enemy as battle erupted in all its perfectly marshaled chaos around him. Heavy fire streaked down from the roof and Land Raiders twisted on their tracks to bring their guns to bear on the Emperor's Children charging from the chapel.

The s.p.a.ce Marines outside the chapel charged at the same instant, and Eidolon's force was attacked from two sides at once.

Lucius ducked blades and bolts, his sword lashing like a serpent's tongue. Eidolon's force reeled. Squad Quelmondil battled ferociously with the enemy warriors emerging from the nearest Land Raider. He danced past them, savage joy kicking in his heart and he rolled under a spray of bolter fire to come up and stab his blade through the abdomen of an enemy sergeant.

Death was an end in itself, expressing Lucius's superiority through the lives he took, but he had a higher purpose. He knew what he had to do, and his strangely distorted senses sought out the glint of gold or the flutter of a banner, anything indicating the presence of one of Fulgrim's chosen.

Then he saw it; armour trimmed in black instead of gold, a helmet worked into a stern, grimacing skull: Chaplain Charmosian.

The black-armoured warrior stood proud of the top hatch of a Land Raider, directing the battle with sharp chops of his eagle-winged crozius. Lucius grinned manically, setting off through the battle to face Charmosian and slay him in a fight worthy of the Legion's epics.

*Charmosian!' he yelled, his voice sounding like the most vibrant music imaginable. *Keeper of the Will! I am Lucius, once your brother, now your nemesis!'

Charmosian turned his skull helmet towards Lucius and said, *I know who you are!'

The chaplain clambered from the hatch and stood on top of the Land Raider, daring Lucius to approach him. Charmosian was a battlefield leader and to fulfill that role he needed the respect of the Legion, respect that could only be earned fighting from the front.

He would be a worthy foe, but that wasn't why Lucius had sought him out.

Lucius leapt onto the Land Raider's track mounting and charged up its glacis until he was face to face with Charmosian. Bolter fire flew in all directions, but it was irrelevant.

This was the only battle in Lucius's mind.

*We taught you too much pride,' said Charmosian, bringing his lethal crozius around in a strike designed to crush Lucius's chest. He brought his blade up to deflect the crozius, and the dance entered a new and urgent phase. Charmosian was good, one of the Legion's best, but Lucius had spent many years training for a fight such as this.

The chaplain's crozius was too heavy to block full-on, so the swordsman let it slide from his blade as Charmosian swung at him time and time again, frustrating him into putting more strength into his blows. A little longer. A few more moments, and Lucius would have his chance.

He loved the way Charmosian hated him, feeling it as something bright and refreshing.

Lucius could read the pattern of Charmosian's attacks and laughed as he saw the clumsy intent written over every blow. Charmosian wanted to kill Lucius with one almighty stroke, but his crozius rose too far, held too long inert as the chaplain gathered his strength.

Lucius lunged, his sword sweeping out in a high cut that slashed through the chaplain's upraised arms. The crozius tumbled to the ground and Charmosian roared in pain as his arms from the elbows down fell with it.

The battle raged around the scene and Lucius let the noise and spectacle of it fill his over-stimulated senses. The battle was around him, and his victory was all that mattered.

*You know who I am,' said Lucius. *Your last thought is of defeat.'

Charmosian tried to speak but before the words were out Lucius spun his sword in a wide arc and Charmosian's head was sliced neatly from his shoulders.

Crimson sprayed across the gold of the Land Raider's hull. Lucius caught the head as it spun through the air and held it high so the whole battlefield could see it.

Around him, thousands of the Emperor's Children fought to the death as Eidolon's force, hit from two sides, reeled against the palace defences and fell back. Tarvitz led the counter-strike and Eidolon's attack was melting away.

He laughed as he saw Eidolon's command tank, a Land Raider festooned with victory banners, rise up over a knot of rubble as it retreated from the fighting.

The loyalists had won this battle, but Lucius found that he didn't care.

He had won his own battle, and pulling Charmosian's head from the skull faced helmet and throwing it aside, he knew he had what he needed to ensure that the song of death kept playing for him.

THE WARSINGERS' CHAPEL was quiet. Hundreds of new bodies lay around it, purple and gold armour scorched and split, runnels of blood gathering between the stained marble tiles. In some places they lay alongside the blackened armour of the World Eaters who had died in the initial a.s.saults on the Choral City.

The palace entrance was heavily barricaded and in the closest dome of the palace, the few apothecaries in the loyalist force were patching up their wounded.

Tarvitz saw Lucius cleaning his sword, alternating between wiping the blade and using its tip to carve new scars on his face. A skull-faced helmet sat beside him.

*Is that really necessary?' asked Tarvitz.

Lucius looked up and said, *I want to remember killing Charmosian.'

Tarvitz knew he should discipline the swordsman, reprimand him for practices that might be considered barbaric and tribal, but here, amid this betrayal and death, such concerns seemed ridiculously petty.

He squatted on the ground next to Lucius, his limbs aching and his armour scarred and dented from the latest battle at the entrance to the palace.

*Fair enough,' he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the enemy. *I saw you kill him. It was a fine strike.'

*Fine?' said Lucius. *It was better than fine. It was art. You never were much for finesse, Saul, so I'm not surprised you didn't appreciate it.'

Lucius smiled as he spoke, but Tarvitz saw a very real flash of annoyance cross the swordsman's features, a glimpse of hurt pride that he did not like the look of.

*Any more movement?' he asked, changing the subject.

*No,' said Lucius. *Eidolon won't come back before he's regrouped.'

*Keep watching,' ordered Tarvitz. *Eidolon could catch us unawares while our guard's down.'

*He won't breach us,' promised Lucius, *not while I'm here.'

*He doesn't have to,' said Tarvitz, wanting to make sure Lucius understood the reality of their position. *Every time he attacks, we lose more warriors. If he strikes fast and pulls out, we'll be whittled down until we can't hold everywhere at once. The ambush from the temple cost him more than he'd like, but he still took too many of us down.'

*We saw him off though,' said Lucius.

*Yes,' agreed Tarvitz, *but it was a close run thing, so I'll send a squad to help keep the watch.'

*So you don't trust me to keep watch now, is that it?'

Tarvitz was surprised at the venom in Lucius's voice and said, *No, that's not it at all. All I want is to make sure that you have enough warriors here to fend off another attack. Anyway, I need to attend to the western defences.'

*Yes, off you go and lead the big fight, you're the hero,' snapped Lucius.

*We will win this,' said Tarvitz, placing his hand on the swordsman's shoulder.

*Yes,' said Lucius, *we will. One way or another.'

LUCIUS WATCHED TARVITZ go, feeling his anger at his a.s.sumption of command. Lucius had been the one earmarked for promotion and greatness, not Tarvitz. How could his own glorious accomplishments have been overshadowed by the plodding leadership of Saul Tarvitz? All the glories that he had earned in the crucible of combat were forgotten and he felt his bitterness rise up in a choking wave in his gullet.

He had felt a moment's guilt as he had formed his plan, but remembering Tarvitz's patronizing condescension, he felt that guilt vanish like snow in the sunshine.

The temple was quiet and Lucius checked to make sure that he was alone, moving to sit on one of the outcroppings of smooth grey-green stone and lifting Charmosian's helmet.

He peered into the bloodstained helmet until he saw the glint of silver, and then reached in and pulled out the small metallic sc.r.a.p that was Charmosian's helmet communicator.

Once again he checked to see that he was alone before speaking into it.

*Commander Eidolon?' he said, his frustration growing as he received no answer.

*Eidolon, this is Lucius,' he said. *Charmosian is dead.'

There was a brief crackle of static, and then, *Lucius.'

He smiled as he recognized Eidolon's voice. As one of the senior officers among the Emperor's Children, Charmosian had been in direct contact with Eidolon, and, as Lucius had hoped, the channel had still been open when the chaplain had died.

*Commander!' said Lucius, his voice full amus.e.m.e.nt. *It is good to hear your voice.'

*I have no interest in listening to your taunts, Lucius,' snarled Eidolon. *You must know we will kill you all eventually.'

*Indeed you will,' agreed Lucius, *but it will take a very long time. A great many Emperor's Children will die before the palace falls. Sons of Horus and World Eaters, too. And Terra knows how many of Mortarion's Death Guard have died already in the trenches. You will suffer for this, Eidolon. The Warmaster's whole force will suffer. By the time the other Legions get here he may have lost too many on Isstvan III to win through.'

*Keep telling yourself that, Lucius, if it makes it easier.'

*No, commander,' he said. *You misunderstand me. I am saying that I wish to make a deal with you.'

*A deal?' asked Eidolon. *What kind of deal?'

Lucius's scars tightened as he smiled. *I will give you Tarvitz and the Precentor's Palace.'

FIFTEEN.

No shortage of wonders Old friends Perfect failure THE STRATEGIUM WAS dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the flickering pict screens gathered like supplicants around the Warmaster's throne and a handful of torches that burned low with a fragrant aroma of sandalwood. The back wall of the strategium had been removed during the fighting on Isstvan III, revealing a fully fashioned temple adjoining the Vengeful Spirit's bridge.

The Warmaster sat alone. None dared disturb his bitter reveries as he sat brooding on the conflict raging below. What should have been a ma.s.sacre had turned into a war a a war he could ill afford the time to wage.

Despite his brave words to his brother primarchs, the battle on Isstvan III worried him. Not for any fear that his warriors would lose, but for the fact that they were engaged at all. The virus bombing should have killed every one of those he believed would not support him in his campaign to topple the Emperor from the Golden Throne of Terra.

Instead, the first cracks had appeared in what should have been a faultless plan.

Saul Tarvitz of the Emperor's Children had taken a warning to the surface...

And the Eisenstein...

He remembered Maloghurst's fear as he had come to tell him of the debacle with the remembrancers, the fear that the Warmaster's wrath would prove his undoing.

Maloghurst had limped towards the throne with his hooded head cast down.

*What is it Maloghurst?' Horus had demanded.

*They are gone,' said Maloghurst. *Sindermann, Oliton and Keeler.'

*What do you. mean?'

*They are not amongst the dead in the Audience Chamber,' explained Maloghurst. *I checked every corpse myself.'

*You say they are gone?' asked the Warmaster at last. *That implies you know where they have gone. Is that the case?'

*I believe so, my lord,' nodded Maloghurst. *It appears they boarded a Thunderhawk and flew to the Eisenstein.'

*They stole a Thunderhawk,' repeated Horus. *We are going to have to review our security procedures regarding these new craft. First Saul Tarvitz and now these remembrancers; it seems anyone can steal one of our ships with impunity.'

*They did not steal it on their own,' explained Maloghurst. *They had help.'

*Help? From whom?'

*I believe it was Iacton Qruze. There was a struggle and Maggard was killed.'