Sigismund was cutting forwards against the tide; he could feel his wounds clotting inside his armour. There were warriors in green and bronze all around him. Another line of pain across his ribs as a blow from behind lashed into his side. He reversed his sword and stabbed it up under his arm. He felt it punch home and ripped it back, spinning the blade in his hands and bringing it down and up to cut the warrior in front of him from groin to shoulder. He stepped forwards and paused.

The fingers of his left hand would not close on the grip of his sword.

There was something in his side, something embedded in his ribs, something scattering pain into his nerves.

‘Lord!’ He heard the shout, close by but dim against the din of clashing blades and gunfire.

He could taste iron in his mouth.

The battle parted in front of him.

His left arm was numb, his strength draining red onto the deck.

Horus Aximand came for him. Little Horus did not offer words or posture for the kill. Those were the mistakes of lesser warriors, of those who believed that contempt led to victory. Aximand simply charged and swept his great, broad-bladed sword up in a killing blow.

Sigismund stepped back, but Aximand’s first cut became the second and the third. Sigismund parried the last one-handed and felt the force of the impact tear the muscles in his right shoulder. Little Horus kept coming, swinging faster and faster. Sigismund cut back but found only air; Aximand was fresh and Sigismund could feel his world contracting away from the battle around him. This was a moment that the Sons of Horus had left for their lord, weakened prey for the teeth of the alpha wolf.

Sigismund read Aximand’s next cut and hammered a backhanded counter at his head. Aximand met the blow and the two swords ground against each other. Sparks arced out from the competing power fields. Little Horus forced his blade forwards. Sigismund jerked back, releasing his locked blade, but Aximand had felt the pressure give and was lunging forwards. Sigismund raised his sword. But the parry never met.

A long blade slammed Little Horus’ sword down.

Boreas rammed his weight forwards into Aximand as the lord of the Sons of Horus dragged his blade back up and turned to meet this new opponent. Boreas punched the pommel of his sword into Aximand’s right eye-lens. Red crystal shattered. Boreas struck again and again, giving Aximand no space to cut. Armour crumpled. Blood spattered from torn ceramite.