Little Horus stumbled and Torgaddon knew that it would take more than a knee in the guts to halt a warrior such as Aximand. His former brother was powerfully built, his strength, poise and skill the equal of Torgaddon's.

The two warriors faced one another, and Torgaddon could see a look of regret flash across Little Horus's face.

'Why are you doing this?' asked Torgaddon.

'You said you were against us,' replied Aximand.

'And we are.'

Both warriors lowered their guards; they were brothers, members of the Moumival who had seen so many battles together that there was no need for posturing. They both knew how the other fought.

Tarik,’ said Aximand, 'if this could have ended another way, we would have taken it. None of us would have chosen this way,’

'Little Horus, when did you realise how far you had gone? Was it when the Warmaster told you we were going to be bombed, or some time before?'

Aximand glanced over to where Loken and Abaddon fought. 'You can walk away from this, Tarik. The Warmaster wants Loken dead, but he said nothing about you.'

Torgaddon laughed. 'We called you Little Horus because you looked so like him, but we were wrong. Horus never had that doubt in his eyes. You're not sure, Aximand. Maybe you're on the wrong side. Maybe this is the last chance you've got to end your life as a Space Marine and not as a slave,’

Aximand smiled bleakly. 'I've seen it, Tarik, the warp. You can't stand against that,’

'And yet here I am,’

'If you had just taken the chance the lodge gave you, you would have seen it too. They can give us such power. If you only knew, Tarik, you'd join us in a second. The whole future would be laid out before you,’

You know I can't back down. No more than you can,’

Then this is it?'

Yes, it is. As you said, none of us would have chosen this,’

Aximand readied himself. 'Just like the practice cages, Tarik,’ 'No,’ said Torgaddon, 'nothing like that.'

THE ENERGISED CLAW swung at Loken's head, and he ducked, too late seeing it for the feint it was. Abaddon grabbed him by the edge of his shoulder guard and drove his knee into Loken's stomach. Ceramite buckled and Loken felt pain knife into him as bones broke.

Abaddon released him and punched him in the face. He was thrown against the wall of the parliament, scorched plaster and brick falling around him.

The Warmaster wanted me to bring the Justaerin, but I told him it was an insult,’

Loken saw his sword lying on the floor beside him and slid down the wall to grab it. He pushed off the wall, pivoting past Abaddon's slashing fist, swinging the blade towards the first captain's face.

Abaddon blocked the blow with his forearm, reaching out to pluck Loken from his feet and hurl him towards the parliament building's wall. The world spun away from him and suddenly there was pain.

His vision blurred as he smacked into the ground and shards of stone flew up around him. The pain within him felt strange, as if it belonged to someone else. It felt as if his back was broken and a treacherous voice in his mind whispered that the pain would go away if he just gave up and let it all

go away in a fog of oblivion. His grip tightened on his sword and he let his anger fuel his strength to fight against the voice in his head that told him to give up.

A long time ago, Loken had sworn an oath to his Emperor, and that oath was never to give up, even as the moment of death approached. His vision swam back into focus, and he looked up to see the hole in the parliament house's wall his body had smashed.

Loken rolled onto his front as Abaddon's massive armoured form charged towards him, smashing aside the blackened remains of the breach.

He scrambled to his feet and backed away, letting Abaddon's fist swing past him. He darted in, stabbing with his sword, but the thick plates of his enemy's armour turned the blade aside. He scrambled back up the steps of the parliament house, hearing Torgaddon and Little Horus fighting within and knowing that he needed his brother's strength to triumph.

Той can't run forever!' roared Abaddon as he turned to follow him, his steps ponderous and heavy.

SAUL TARVITZ GRINNED like a hunter who had finally run his prey to ground. The warriors he and Sola-then led cut a bloody swathe through Eidolon's warriors, killing them without mercy as they themselves had been killed so recently. What had once been an attack that threatened to overwhelm them

utterly was now in danger of becoming a rout for the traitors.

Gunfire echoed fiercely through the palace as the loyalists unleashed volley after volley of gunfire at anything that moved. Loyalist Space Marines surrounded Eidolon's assault force and, attacked on two fronts. The lord commander's force was buckling.

Tarvitz could see warriors with missing limbs or massive open wounds struggling in the desperate fight, jostling to get a position where they could kill the traitors who had so nearly overrun them. His own sword reaped a bloody tally as he killed warriors he had once fought with and bled alongside, each sword blow a cruel twist of fate that brought aching sadness as much as it did cathartic satisfaction.

He saw Eidolon in the centre of the battle, smashing warriors to ruin with each swing of his hammer and fought his way through the battle to reach the lord commander. His own body ached from the duel with Lucius, but he knew that there was no point in calling for an apothecary. Whatever wounds he was suffering from would never have a chance to heal. It would end here, Tarvitz knew, but it would be a hell of a fight and he had never felt more proud to lead these brave warriors into battle.

To have such noble fighters almost undone by a supposedly loyal comrade's betrayal was a galling, yet somehow fitting end to their struggle. Lucius had very nearly cost them this battle and Tarvitz

swore that if he lived through this hell, he would see the bastard dead once and for all.

The lord commander was almost within his reach, but no sooner had Eidolon seen him than the traitors began falling back in disciplined ranks. Tarvitz wanted to scream in frustration, but knew better than to simply hurl himself after his foe.

'Firing line across the nave!' shouted Tarvitz at the top of his voice and instantly, a contingent of Astartes formed up and began firing disciplined volleys of bolter fire at the retreating enemy

He lowered his sword and leaned against the broken wall as he realised that, against all odds, they had held once more. Before he had a moment to savour the unlikeliness of their latest victory, the vox-bead chimed in his ear.

'Captain Tarvitz,' said a voice he recognised as one of the Luna Wolves,

'Tarvitz here,' he said.

'This is Vipus, captain. The position on the roof is sound but we've got company'

'I know,’ replied Tarvitz. 'The Sons of Horus.'

'Worse than that,' said Vipus. 'To the west, look up.'

Tarvitz pushed through the remains of the battle and scanned the sky above the crumbling, smoke wreathed ruins. Something moved towards the palace, something distant, but utterly huge.

'Sweet Terra,’ he said, 'the Dies Irae.'

'I'll make the Titan our priority target,’ swore Vipus.

'No, you can't hurt it. Just kill enemy Space Marines.'

Yes, captain.'

'Enemy units!' a voice yelled from near the temple entrance. 'Armour and support!'

Tarvitz pushed himself from the wall, drawing on his last reserves of energy to once again muster his warriors for the defence of the palace. 'Assault units by the doors! All other Astartes, fire at will!'

Tarvitz could see a huge strike force of enemy forces, boxy Land Raiders and Rhinos massing on the outskirts of the Precentor's Palace. Beyond them, Sons of Horus, World Eaters and Emperor's Children set up fields of fire to surround the temple.