Julius willed Vespasian to reach the conclusion of his tale as the Iron Hands Stormbird finally touched down on the deck with a heavy clang of landing skids.

'Of course, Fulgrim was enthralled, finding that another of his brothers shared his love of such incredible beauty, but Ferrus Manus was unimpressed and said that such things were a waste of their time when there was a galaxy to win back. I'm told that Fulgrim laughed and declared him a terrible gorgon, saying that if they did not value beauty, then they would never appreciate the stars they were to win back for their father.'

Julius smiled at Vespasian's tale, wondering how much of it was true and how much was apocryphal. It certainly suited what he had heard of the Primarch of the Iron Hands. All thoughts of gorgons and tales were dispelled when the frontal assault ramp of the Stormbird lowered, and the Primarch of the Iron Hands emerged, followed by a craggy featured warrior and a quartet of Terminators, their armour the colour of unpainted iron.

His first impression of Ferrus Manus was of sheer bulk. The Primarch of the Iron Hands was a brutally rugged giant, his width and height quite unimaginable next to Fulgrim's slender frame. His armour shone like the darkest onyx, the gauntlet upon his shoulder fashioned from beaten iron, and a cloak of glittering mail billowed behind him as he marched. A monstrous hammer was slung across his back, and Julius knew that this was the dreaded Forgebreaker, the weapon Fulgrim had forged for his brother.

Ferrus Manus wore no helmet and his battered face was like a slab of granite, scarred from the ravages of two centuries of war among the stars. As he caught sight of his brother primarch, his stern face broke apart in a warm grin of welcome, the sudden change almost unbelievable in the completeness of its reversal.

Julius risked a glance at Fulgrim, seeing that grin mirrored in his own primarch's face, and before he knew it, he too was smiling like a simpleton.

To see such honest brotherhood between these two incredible, god-like warriors made his heart sing. The Primarch of the Iron Hands extended his arms, and Julius found his gaze drawn to the shimmering hands that shone like rippling chrome under the harsh lights of the embarkation deck.

Fulgrim went to meet his brother, and the two warriors embraced like long lost friends suddenly and unexpectedly reunited. Both laughed in pleasure at the meeting, and Ferrus Manus slapped his hands hard on Fulgrim's back.

'It's good to see you, my brother!' roared Ferrus Manus. 'Throne, I've missed you!'

'And you are a sight for sore eyes, Gorgon!' returned Fulgrim.

Ferrus Manus stepped back from Fulgrim, still holding him by the shoulders, and looked over at those who had come to greet him. He released his grip on Fulgrim's shoulders, and together they marched over towards the captains of the Emperor's Children. Julius caught his breath at the nearness of Ferrus Manus, the primarch towering above him like a giant of legend.

'You wear the colours of the first captain,' said Ferrus Manus. 'What is your name?'

Julius was horribly reminded of the first time he had met Fulgrim face to face, fearing a repetition of that humiliating experience, but as he caught Fulgrim's amused expression, he forced some steel into his voice. 'I am Julius Kaesoron, Captain of the First, my lord.'

'Well met, captain,' said Ferrus Manus, taking his hand and pumping it enthusiastically while waving forward the craggy-faced warrior who had accompanied him from the Stormbird with his free hand. 'I have heard great things of you.'

'Thank you,' managed Julius, before remembering to add, 'my lord.'

Ferrus Manus laughed and said, 'This is Gabriel Santar, captain of my veterans and the man who has the misfortune to serve as my equerry. I think you and he should get to know one another. If you don't know a man, how can you trust your life to him, eh?'

'Well, quite,' said Julius, unused to such informality from his superiors.

'He's my very best, Julius, and I expect you will learn a lot from him.'

Julius bristled at the implied insult and said, 'As I am sure he will from me.'

'Of that I have no doubt,' said Ferrus Manus, and Julius felt suddenly foolish as he saw the glint of mischief in his strange silver eyes. His gaze slid from the primarch to Santar, seeing an unspoken respect there as they sized one another up in the manner of warriors who wonder which of them is the greater.

'Good to see you're still alive, Vespasian!' said Ferrus Manus as he moved on from Julius to take the lord commander in a crushing bear hug. 'And the Firebird! It has been too long since I saw the phoenix fly!'

'You shall see her fly ere long, my brother,' promised Fulgrim.

EIGHT

The Most Important Question

Warmaster

Progress

The two primarchs wasted no time in convening the senior officers of the Legions in the Heliopolis to discuss strategy for the destruction of the Diasporex. The marble benches nearest the dark floor were filled with the purple and gold of the Emperor's Children, and the black and white of the Iron Hands. So far the council of war was not going well, and Julius could see the choler rising in Ferrus Manus as Fulgrim dismissed his latest idea as unworkable.

'Then what do you propose, brother? For I have no more stratagems to suggest,' said the Primarch of the Iron Hands. 'As soon as we threaten them, they flee.'

Fulgrim turned to face Ferrus Manus and said, 'Do not mistake what I say as criticism, brother. I am merely stating what I see as fundamental to the reason why you have not yet managed to bring the Diasporex to battle.'

'Which is?'

'That you are being too direct.'

'Too direct?' asked Ferrus Manus, but Fulgrim held up a quieting hand to forestall any further outbursts.

'I know you, brother, and I know the way your Legion fights, but sometimes chasing the comet's tail is not the best way to catch it.'

'You would have us skulk around this sector like thieves while we wait for them to come to us? The Iron Hands do not make war that way.'

Fulgrim shook his head. 'Do not think for a moment that I am unaware of the simple joy to be had in going up the centre, but we must be prepared to accept that other ways may advance our cause more perfectly.'

Fulgrim walked the circumference of the Heliopolis as he spoke, directing his words to his fellow primarch and the warriors who surrounded him. Reflected light from the ceiling lit his face from below and his eyes, a dark mirror of Ferrus Manus's silver ones, were alight with passion as he spoke.

'You have become fixated on destroying the Diasporex, Ferrus, which is only right and proper given their associations with vile aliens, but you have not asked yourself the most important question regarding this enemy.'

Ferrus Manus crossed his arms and said, 'And what question would that be?'

Fulgrim smiled. 'Why are they here?'

'You wish to get into a philosophical debate?' snapped Ferrus Manus. 'Then speak to the iterators, I'm sure they can furnish you with a better, less direct, answer than I'

Fulgrim turned to address the warriors of the two Legions and said, 'Ask yourselves this then. Knowing that a powerful fleet of warships is hunting you and seeks your destruction, why would you not simply leave? Why would you not move on to somewhere safer?'

'I do not know, brother,' said Ferrus Manus. 'Why?'

Julius felt his primarch's gaze upon him and the weight of expectation crushed him to his seat. If the intellect of a primarch could not answer this question, what chance did he have?

He looked into Fulgrim's eyes, seeing his lord's faith, and the answer was suddenly clear.