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‘If the Alpha Legion is involved, we must assume that they will not be content with simply destroying what they found,’ said Arcatus as they reached the conveyor that led to the infirmary. ‘If you continue with this experimentation, you will attract the attention of Horus sooner or later.’

Corax lifted a portable vox from his belt and opened up a command channel.

‘Let us see what the Commander of the Raptors thinks,’ said the primarch. ‘Branne, have you heard what was said?’

‘Aye, lord,’ Branne replied over the communicator. ‘Every word. Agapito and the Custodian make good points, but I have a different view. If we continue, there is the possibility that we might find a means to reverse the predicament of the tainted Raptors. On the other hand, how many more recruits do we risk before its discovery? Lord, I think it is time that we closed this door and locked it forever. If we are to rebuild the Raven Guard it has to be through the means we know and can trust.’

‘Wise words, commander,’ said Corax. The group stepped into the conveyor, Corax bowing his head to avoid the ceiling. As the elevator shunted into life, the primarch made a decision. ‘There are no swift answers to our situation. We have done all we can, but our efforts have fallen short. The gene-project will be terminated immediately and any research that was missed by the Alpha Legion will be destroyed.’

‘What of the Raptors?’ said Agapito. ‘They are not to blame.’

‘And I do not hold them at fault,’ the primarch replied. ‘I cannot – I willnot – kill them out of hand. They were accepted into our brotherhood of warriors and as members of the Legiones Astartes they will be granted the same fate as all of us: to die with honour in battle against the Emperor’s foes.’

‘It is still your intent to launch an attack against the traitors?’ asked Arcatus. ‘Your Legion is in disarray, primarch.’

‘The assault on Narsis will commence as planned,’ said Corax. ‘If this episode proves anything, it is that the Raven Guard do not sit well when idle. In battle we thrive, not in contemplation. More than ever, we need a victory, to restore spirits and forge a new brotherhood within the Legion. We have been divided for too long, between those of Terra and the men who liberated Deliverance, between those who survived Isstvan and those who saved us, between the veterans and the Raptors. No more. We are Raven Guard and we shall show the Imperium that we are united.’

They found Magos Orlandriaz in the infirmary. The wards were full of casualties from the fighting, most of them the Raptors who had taken on the infiltrators without armour. Several dozen of the beds contained still forms, the bloodstained sheets drawn up over their faces. Corax stopped beside the bed of one of the Raptors, who had heavy bandaging around his chest.

‘The Legion owes you a great debt, legionary,’ the primarch said. He knew the face and name of every man under his command, and the Raptor was no different. ‘It’s Hef, isn’t it? Navar Hef?’

‘Aye, Lord Corax,’ said Navar, grimacing as he struggled to sit up.

Corax waved him to lie still. ‘I’m just happy that we could serve you.’

‘You still can,’ said Corax. He raised his voice to address the wounded across the ward. ‘Who among you thinks they are still battle-ready?’

There was a chorus of shouts and enthusiastic calls.

‘For the Emperor and the Raven Guard!’ said Agapito, raising his first.

‘For the Emperor and the Raven Guard!’ the Raptors replied as one.

Corax nodded and walked back into the inner sanctum, where he was met by Orlandriaz, who had been talking with Arcatus.

‘The Custodian tells me you wish to gene-test the whole Legion, lord,’ said the magos. ‘I can begin testing within a few hours.’

‘And it will root out any Raven Guard who is not what he seems?’ said Agapito.

‘I can assure you that no legionary will be able to hide his true nature, commander.’

RECALIBRATING HIS THERMAL regulator, Catho Juliaxis settled to his haunches with his back against the wall. He closed the metal shutters that served as eyelids in his altered face and wondered when he would be relieved of the tiresome duty of monitoring the herakli. The mute monstrosities were no company for a man of intellect.

His aural detector picked up the sound of one of his charges moving. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see one of the herakli standing over him. Gazing into the shadow beneath the construct’s hood, he was surprised to see intelligent eyes staring back at him.

‘Wh–’

The immense herakli rammed his cannon under Juliaxis’s chin, crushing his windpipe and snapping his neck with a single blow. The other beast looked on, confused by the behaviour of its companion.

Pulling down the shutter of the locker, the dead acolyte’s body concealed within, Omegon slipped the box of gene-data inside his robe. Affecting the lumbering gait of the herakli, he calmly walked out of the north corridor and headed for the gatehouse.

It had been so tempting to gun down Corax when he had walked past, but the triumph would have been fleeting. The Alpha Legion understood better than all others that the greatest victories were often those that were unheralded and unnoticed. Better to slip away with the mission accomplished than attract attention for a temporary thrill.

There were Mechanicum forces all about Ravendelve and it took Omegon only a few minutes to mingle with the other herakli. Soon he found himself being led out of the compound to join the hunt for the guilders. As the mists closed around the group of skitarii, a ticking started in the base of his skull, indicating that a gunship from the Betawas within five hundred metres. It was time to leave Kiavahr for good; he had what he came for.

There were shouts of panic as he opened fire, mowing down the other herakli and their skitarii minders in a few long bursts. Leaving their bodies to be swallowed by the fog, Omegon headed into the murk to make rendezvous with his transport.

EIGHTEEN

The Raven’s Wings

Horus Claims His Prize

Narsis

THE MOOD IN the Carnivalis was sombre, the assembled legionaries standing silently in ranks as Corax walked the length of the hall to the stage. Agapito, Branne, Aloni and the new commander of the Hawks, Nuran Tesk, flanked the raven-carved lectern. All of the Raven Guard were present, including the disfigured Raptors capable of fighting. The armourium had modified their prized suits of Mark VI, providing reinforcement where it was needed, cutting holes for horns and spinal growths, adjusting joints and seals for contorted limbs.

The ranks had been cleansed; as Orlandriaz had begun his gene-testing, those warriors pretending to be Raven Guard had attempted to flee or had ended their own lives. Drawing on what he knew of the meta-seed of the primarchs, Corax had been able to confirm that the infiltrators were from the Alpha Legion. The mark of Alpharius was in their blood and bones and flesh, and condemned them as certainly as their actions.

Mounting the stage, the primarch received nods of respect from his commanders. Corax turned to face the Legion. He was clad in full battle gear, one hand sheathed in the lightning claw that had survived the fight with Lorgar and Curze, the other holding the power whip he had wielded to such devastating effect in the retreat on Isstvan. He held up both hands, showing the armaments to the Raven Guard.

‘The Legiones Astartes conquered the galaxy for the Emperor,’ he began, but his voice faltered as he looked out at rank after rank of his warriors. Were these the last days of the Raven Guard? Was he about to lead them into their final campaign? He swallowed hard, remembering the adversities he had faced as guerrilla leader of the Lycaen rebels. The task then had seemed as insurmountable, but he had triumphed. He would not give in to fear, not of his enemies and not of what he might become.