As their eyes met, Loken saw Kharn's soul and despaired. He saw the warrior who had sworn oaths of brotherhood and pledged himself to the Crusade as he himself had done, the warrior who had seen the terrors and tragedies of the Crusade as well as its victories. And he saw the dark madness that had swamped that in bloodshed and betrayals yet to be enacted.

'I am the Eightfold Path,’ snapped Kharn, his every words punctuated by a froth of blood.

'No!' shouted Loken, pushing the World Eater away. 'It doesn't have to be this way'

'It does,’ said Kharn. 'There is no way off the Path. We must always go further,’

The humanity drained from Kharn's face and Loken knew that the World Eater was truly gone and that only in death would this battle end.

Loken backed away, fending off a flurry of blows from Kharn's axe, until he was forced back against a slab of rubble. His foe's axe buried itself in the stone beside him and Loken slammed the pommel of his sword into Kharn's head. Kharn rode the blow and smashed his forehead into Loken's face, grabbing his sword arm and wrestling him to the ground.

They struggled in the mud like animals, Kharn trying to grind Loken's face into the shattered stone and Loken trying to throw him off. Loken rolled onto his back as he heard the rumble of an engine like an earthquake and the glare of floodlights stabbed out and threw Kharn's outline into silhouette.

Knowing what was coming, Loken hammered his fist into Kharn's face over and over again, pushing him upright with a hand clasped around his neck. The World Eater struggled in Loken's grip as the light grew stronger and the roaring form of a Land Raider crested the ridge of rubble behind them like a monster rising from the deep.

Loken felt the huge impact as the Land Raider's dozer blade slammed into Kharn, the sharpened prongs at its base punching through the World Eater's chest. He released Kharn's body and rolled to the edge of the crater as the Land Raider rose up, carrying the struggling Kharn with it. The mighty tank crashed back down and Loken pressed his body into the mud as it ground over him, the roaring of its engine passing inches above him.

Then it was over, the tank rumbled onwards, carrying the impaled World Eater before it like some gory trophy. Tanks were all around him, the Eye of Horus glaring from their armoured hulls, and Loken recognised the livery they were painted in. The Sons of Horus.

For a moment, Loken just stared at the force surging towards the palace. Gunfire flared as they drove towards their prize.

A hand reached down and grabbed Loken, dragging him, battered and bloody, into cover from the guns of the tanks. He looked up and saw Torgad-don, similarly mauled by the encounter with the World Eaters.

Torgaddon nodded in the direction of the Land Raider. 'Was that-?' 'Kharn,’ nodded Loken. 'He's gone,’ 'Dead?'

'Maybe, I don't know,’

Torgaddon looked up at the Sons of Horus speartip driving for the palace. 'I think even Tarvitz might have trouble holding the palace now,’ Then we'll have to hurry,’

'Yes. Stay low and let's keep out of any more trouble,’ said Torgaddon, 'unless Abaddon and Little Horus aren't challenging enough on their own,’

'Saul will make them pay for every piece of rubble they capture,’ said Loken, pulling himself painfully to his feet. Kharn had hurt him, but not so much that he couldn't fight. 'For his sake, let's make that count for something,’

The two friends forged through the rubble once again, towards the Mackaran Basilica.

Where lay one last chance of a victory on Isstvan III.

THE SOUNDS OF battle echoed from all around him and Tarvitz hugged the shadows as he made his careful way through the ruins of the east wing of the palace. Squads of Emperor's Children swarmed through the palace grounds, sweeping through the shattered domes and gunfire riddled rooms as they plunged the knife of their attack into the heart of the defences.

Here and there he saw squad markings he recognised and had to fight the ingrained urge to call out to them. But these warriors were the enemy and there would be no brotherly embrace or comradely welcome were they to discover him.

The very obsessiveness of their attack was working in Tarvitz's favour as these warriors possessed the same single mindedness as Eidolon, fixated on the prize of the palace rather than proper battlefield awareness. For once, Eidolon's flaws were working in his favour, thought Tarvitz, as he ghosted through the strobe lit wasteland of the palace.

'You're going to need to tighten up discipline, Eidolon,’ he whispered, 'or someone's going to make you pay'

The eastern sectors he had assigned Lucius and his men to watch over were bombed out ruins, the frescoes burned from the walls by the firestorm,

and the mighty statue gardens pulverised by constant shelling and the battles that had raged furiously over the past months. To have held out this long was a miracle in itself and Tarvitz was not blind enough to try and fool himself into thinking that it could last much longer.

He saw dozens of bodies and checked every one for a sign that the swordsman had fallen. Each body was a warrior he knew, a warrior who had followed him into battle at the palace and trusted that he could lead them to victory. Each set of eyes accused him of their death, but he knew that there was nothing more he could have done.

The further eastward he went the less he encountered the invading Emperor's Children, their attack pushing into the centre of the Precentor's Palace rather than spreading out to capture its entirety.

Trust Eidolon to go for the glory rather than standard battlefield practice.

Give me a hundred Space Marines and I would punish your arrogance, thought Tarvitz.

Even as the thought occurred to him, a slow smile spread across his face. He had a hundred Space Marines. True, they were engaged in batde, but if any force of warriors could disengage from battle in good order and hand over to a friendly force in the middle of a desperate firefight, it was the Emperor's Children.

He crouched in the shadow of a fallen statue and opened a vox-channel. 'Solathen,’ he hissed. 'Can you hear me?'

Static washed from the vox bead in his ear and he

cursed at the idea of his plan being undone by

something as trivial as a failure of communications.

'I hear you, captain, but we're a little busy right

now!' said Solathen's voice.

'Understood,’ said Tarvitz, 'but I have new orders for you. Disengage from the fight and hand over to the Luna Wolves. Let them take the brunt of the fighting and gather as many warriors as you can rally to you. Then converge on my position,’ 'Sir?'

Take the eastern passages along the servants' wing. That should bring you to me without too much trouble. We have an opportunity to hurt these bastards, Solathen, so I need you to get here with all possible speed!' 'Understood, sir,’ said Solathen, signing off. Tarvitz froze as he heard a voice say, 'It won't do any good, Saul. The Precentor's Palace is as good as lost. Even you should be able to see that,’

He looked up and saw Lucius standing in the cen-tte of the dome in front of him, his shimmering sword in one hand and a shard of broken glass in the other. He raised the glass to his face and sliced its razor edge along his cheek, drawing a line of blood from his skin that dripped to the dome's floor.

'Lucius,’ said Tarvitz, rising to his feet and entering the dome to meet the swordsman. 'I thought you were dead,’

Bright starlight filled the dome and Tarvitz saw it was filled with the corpses of Emperor's Children.

Not traitors, but loyalists and he could see that not one had fallen to a gunshot wound, but had been carved up by a powerful edged weapon. These warriors had been cut apart, and a horrible suspicion began to form in his mind.