Magnoculars only penetrated so far through the fog, but looking through the sights of Hel-handed Hel-handed was like peering through the eyes of a G.o.d. was like peering through the eyes of a G.o.d.

'Only if it won't interrupt your labours.'

Letzger gestured to the machine behind him with a wide arm. 'Go ahead, sir. Her gaze hasn't wavered since the killing and death began.'

Humis balked a little at the gunnery master's words. Adanar allowed himself some private amus.e.m.e.nt Letzger's pragmatism was infinitely preferable to the desperate hope of most of his officers. At least it was honest.

Mounting the platform, nodding to the crews who saluted him crisply, Adanar took up a position in the sighter's chair and looked through the Hel-handed's Hel-handed's crosshairs. crosshairs.

Unsurprisingly, the view was fixed on the Thanatos Hills where the necron artillery was based. It was something of an unfair fire exchange but Adanar sensed the challenge was relished by Letzger's old girl. The arc of pylons and heavy gauss-cannons blighted the rugged horizon line. Several years ago, when his family was still alive, Adanar had trained in the Thanatos Hills. His barracks were based at the old refinery. That too was in ruins now, little more than a blast scar on the ground. So much was gone, never to return.

He squinted through the sighting lens, careful not to alter any of the gunnery master's measurements. He couldn't tell why the necron artillery had stopped firing but he did see something moving to the west. It was on the fringes of his vision through the scope. Adanar turned to Letzger.

'There's something out there.'

Letzger gave the reports back to his chief engineer and took up the secondary sighter's seat. He peered through the lens.

'Eighteen degrees west,' he bellowed into the vox-horn. Several metres above him, a trio of crewmen rotated the barrel precisely.

Letzger adjusted the scope, tweaking it for focus. 'Clever b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.'

Adanar had the same view but wasn't seeing whatever the gunnery master was.

'See the hill line?' asked Letzger.

Adanar nodded.

'Watch the peaks.'

Adanar stared. The drifts were blowing themselves out but despite that and the incredible range of the Hel-handed Hel-handed it was still hard to discern detail. He it was still hard to discern detail. He had had seen something earlier, though, so he tried to focus on that. His eyes narrowed and he smiled. seen something earlier, though, so he tried to focus on that. His eyes narrowed and he smiled.

'They're moving.'

'Aye, it's no hill line out there.'

'Necron pyramids,' Adanar a.s.serted.

'Trying to sneak up on us. Hoping we'd think the barrage was over and relax our guard.'

'How close do you think they are?'

Letzger made some adjustments, consulted instruments. He'd also lit a cigar and puffed on it enthusiastically.

'Too close.' He started yelling orders at the crews, shouting out coordinates. There was a flurry of action as his men reacted. Letzger left the sighter's seat and looked at Adanar.

'We need to get you off the platform now, sir,' he said politely.

Adanar matched the gunnery master's salute and left with Humis. They were heading back down the wall when he noticed something else that gave him immense displeasure.

'What is he he doing on the battlements?' doing on the battlements?'

Humis didn't catch on immediately. Adanar had to point him out before the corporal understood.

Rancourt was on the walls, his guard detail with him. It looked like he was trying to inspire the men, but was getting strange looks and wary salutes instead.

Adanar scowled and thrust out his hand. 'Get me Kador on the vox, right now.'

Sergeant Kador kept his voice low; the acting lord governor was only a few steps ahead of him and he didn't want to be overheard. 'He insisted, commander. I believe he wanted to do his part to galvanise the men.'

A stream of invective made Kador wince ever so slightly. 'I understand, sir.'

There was more, and the sergeant could see by Commander Sonne's hand gestures, as far away as he was on the battlements, that he was extremely displeased.

'I will do so immediately.'

The vox link was cut abruptly and Kador gave the receiver cup back to his comms-officer. His face was as hard as d.a.m.nos ice. 'Bring Governor Rancourt to me. Now.'

'Never let it be said that Lord Governor Zeph Rancourt sat idle while his people suffered.'

Kador thought he looked knowingly officious in his robes and suspected the only reason the lord governor had ventured from his quarters was in fear of the ceiling falling in on him. Upon hearing of Corporal Besseque's death, he'd been especially paranoid about that.

'Commander Sonne has ordered me to escort you from the wall, sire.'

Rancourt looked genuinely nonplussed, 'But who will inspire the men?'

'He a.s.sures me they are well steeled already, sire.'

'Yes, of course...' His gaze drifted to southern gate. 'The Crastia Shipyards,' he said, 'they are a short march in that direction. With the cessation of bombardment, an evacuation might be possible.'

'Commander Sonne has ordered that no one is to leave the safety of the city.'

Rancourt returned his gaze to Kador. His expression was distinctly conspiratorial.

'A small mission from the city gates would likely go unnoticed.'

The sergeant's face was like stone. 'What are you suggesting, sire?'

'Nothing. Only that an enterprising officer might be well rewarded should he deliver an Imperial official from certain peril.'

Kador leaned in close, just to be sure there was no misunderstanding. The relish in the lord governor's eyes made him want to clench his fists. 'No one leaves the city. No. One. No. One. These are my orders, sire. The Crastia Shipyards have been taken. Even if there were a vessel capable of taking us to orbit, the area is likely to be swarming with the enemy. Necrons employ hidden snares. They have troops able to bore through earth. There's no telling what hazards we would encounter.' These are my orders, sire. The Crastia Shipyards have been taken. Even if there were a vessel capable of taking us to orbit, the area is likely to be swarming with the enemy. Necrons employ hidden snares. They have troops able to bore through earth. There's no telling what hazards we would encounter.'

The lord governor looked as if he might argue but Kador's glare placated him.

'Yes, of course. I was merely speaking hypothetically.'

'Hypothetically, sire, indeed.' Kador stepped aside, indicating the lord governor should make for the battlement stairs.

'You are a dutiful servant, sergeant,' he said as he pa.s.sed.

'Thank you, sire.' Kador watched him go. Perhaps Governor Rancourt was right, perhaps the ceiling would fall on his head. He could but hope.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A low rumble ran through the earth below the newly christened Courtyard of Xiphos. Iulus felt it through his armoured boots, his greaved legs. In his core, he knew the necrons had found some fresh way to attack Kellenport.

He expected to see lumbering war machines, bipedal walkers, arachnid constructs or a host of other mechanical horrors pounding towards the walls. But no emerald beams scorched through the snow-fog that had rolled down off the mountains and swathed the world in dirty white. There were no ranks of blinking, soulless...o...b.. as the phalanxes marched on the city. Even the necron communication-nodes were silent. It was something else.

Iulus scanned the third wall, the one that was mined with as much explosive as he could spare. The rumble beneath his feet grew deeper and heavier. Some of the men had to steady themselves on the battlements to stop from falling.

'Battle positions,' he bellowed. The order was relayed through the other Immortals. The entire defensive line, including the troops in the courtyards, tensed.

A s.p.a.ce Marine can exist in a state of heightened battle-tension for hours, even days. Their enhanced physiologies are genetically engineered to cope with even the most arduous mental extremes. For a human it is unbearable. Like a sinew pulled taut across a muscle it can only be strained for so long. Over-tense it and it will snap.

Still the tremors persisted.

The men looked fit to break.

Despite the absence of a vox-caster, Iulus's voice reverberated around the wall. 'Hold positions!'

Again, he searched the third wall. The proximity triggers were rigged throughout the ruins. There was no way the necrons could have bypa.s.sed them all. He searched the killing-field on which their guns were aimed and primed, despite the fact he knew no enemy could set foot there without first coming through the third wall. Where was the fire? Where were the explosions and the shrapnel storm he had laid for them? Come on, come on... We shall unleash death upon you. Come on, come on... We shall unleash death upon you.

'Where are they?' hissed Kolpeck, the normally stoic conscript showing signs he was on edge.

Iulus silenced him. 'They are close. Be ready, brother.'

He'd said it without thinking, by rote. Iulus didn't take it back. He could see instantly the effect it had on Kolpeck's resolve. He was emboldened. In another life he would have made a fine s.p.a.ce Marine, Iulus was sure.

'I am at your side, brother-Angel.'

'And I yours,' Iulus muttered. Breaking up his squad had felt unnatural at first. Iulus would still have preferred his brothers by his side but Kolpeck was a good soldier and a fine companion. He had never really thought much of humans before. This enemy they faced was enough to push an Ultramarine's resolve and strength to the limit and yet here these men stood, in defence of their homes, defiant to the last. Yes, Iulus was proud to stand with them and learn an important lesson about the depth of the human spirit.

Small motes of debris were shaking loose from the defences now. The Ark Guard in the gun nests had to hold onto their pintle mounts and tripods to prevent them moving and fouling their aim. Several troopers knelt, leaning against the wall for stability. Some prayed, making the sign of the aquila. Others locked arms with their comrades for mutual support.

'Like ice in your veins,' Iulus said to them, his abyssal voice carrying on the wind. 'Your spine and will as steel.'

A conscript with a rocket tube gestured into the whiteout fearfully. 'What if we cannot see them? What if they are already upon us?'

Iulus growled at him. 'Get hold of your fear, seize it and lock it fast. I I will see them coming.' will see them coming.'

Except he couldn't see them. Iulus saw no more than the frightened conscripts on the wall. How quickly a man's insane courage could corrode in the face of inaction, when confronted with the unknown. There were no horrors in the universe that could compare to what a man harboured in his own mind. It was a place where daemons and monsters reigned, where blades and guns were no protection. And it was here that a s.p.a.ce Marine was armoured the most.

But still, the humans held.

A cry echoed across the battlements. It was followed by the crack of splitting stone as part of the wall collapsed. Huge plumes of dust, grit and snow spewed up into the air like a frozen geyser just under fifty metres from Iulus's position. Men and materiel were swallowed in the cloud, their screams dampened by the crash of sundered stone.

In the other direction, another section of the wall fell, broken in two as if its foundations had rotted through or succ.u.mbed to rapid erosion.

Uncertain where best to turn first, Iulus reached for the vox. He was scanning the dust cloud for some clue of a necron attack, when Kolpeck left his position and raced for the ladder to the lower level.

Iulus shouted, 'Trooper, stand and fight!' He had no time to go after him. Something was happening to the wall but he was still ignorant of the cause. He eyed the third wall again, but the mines and explosives were intact. He heard no las-fire, no bolter bursts. Kolpeck had fled, climbed down the ladder and was racing down the stairs to the Courtyard of Xiphos.

So much for human courage, Iulus thought bitterly. Perhaps the war had broken the man. Cracks were usually hard to see until it was too late to sh.o.r.e them up.

At least the rest of the One Hundred were holding firm. He'd glared at them all when Kolpeck had run, defying them to move with sheer force of will. None did.

Putting the thought aside as he would a spent clip or blunted gladius, Iulus barked down the vox. 'Aristaeus.'

He was the closest Ultramarine to the site of the second collapse. Iulus himself was in command of the wall section where the first collapse had taken place.

Aristaeus's reply was riddled with static, the dust and grit muddying the signal even at close range. 'Nothing, brother-sergeant. I see...' The vox return crackled.

'Repeat. I cannot make you out, brother.'

'A hole, brother-sergeant. There is a vast hole opened up in the wall right down into the earth.'

Iulus heard screaming over the vox-return and could imagine the fates of those on the section when it collapsed. Aristaeus continued.

'I can see into its depths. There is...'

There was a pause as Aristaeus consulted his autosenses and cycled through his retinal spectra.

Iulus's patience was threadbare. They were under attack but he still had no idea by what or from where the next a.s.sault would come. 'Speak, brother. What do you see?'

'Darkness, only darkness.'

Crouched at the battlements, one eye on the dissipating dust cloud ahead of him, Iulus frowned. 'Is your retinal display malfunctioning? Tell me what you see through infra-red and night vision.'

'Nothing, brother-sergeant. It's just black, like oily cloud. Visual filters have no effect.'

'That can't be good,' said Kolpeck. The grizzled rig-hand was out of breath and clutching a strange device in one hand. He'd obviously gone to retrieve it after the attack. It was based on a long metal spike with some kind of data-slate at the top. Iulus had never seen one before but its design suggested some kind of seismological mining tool.

'A soldier does not desert his post, Trooper Kolpeck.' His voice was stern but now was not the time for a long reprimand. He wanted to know what Kolpeck had found.

'I'm sorry, brother-Angel, but I was acting on a hunch,' he replied with a little less contrition than Iulus had expected. 'I told you, I am a miner not a soldier.' He brandished the seismological device. The data-screen was grubby with dirt and h.o.a.rfrost but a series of undulating lines were visible along three horizontal axis. 'They are beneath beneath us.' us.'

The three lines were depth markers. The last, therefore the deepest, was jagged with activity. Iulus saw what the necrons were doing. Undermining was a common siege tactic, well-used and perfected over millennia of war. Here the necrons had added a fresh element they were using the darkness as a way to conceal themselves.

Iulus seized the vox, nearly crushing it in his gauntlet as urgency overtook him. 'Aristaeus, burn it! Burn the hole. The mechanoids have tunnelled underneath us!

'Pour everything you've got into that bore hole,' he shouted, running the battlements in long, metre-eating strides. 'Turn the cannon emplacements, fill it with h.e.l.l and frag!'

Iulus got halfway to the site of the first collapse when the ground beneath him gave way and he was falling. Another bore hole had opened up in his path. Several of the One Hundred plunged to their deaths, unable to move in time. It was a dishonourable end for such brave men. Iulus reached out, his survival instinct impelling him to grab a chunk of rock jutting from the broken rampart.