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 retteated 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 assaults 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 assumption 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 patronising 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 scrap 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 recognised 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 amusement. '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 War-master'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 massacre had turned into a war - a war he could ill afford the time to wage.

Despite his brave words to his brother primarchs, the battle on Isstvan HI 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?'