The next commander of note was General Conoe of the Swabian Fusiliers. He had an augmetic eye, an aquila tattooed under the other and a goatee that hung in a heavy grey plait down to his chest. ‘He leads a number of units – the Lethe Rifles, the Scarus Light, and the Swabian Fusiliers.’ The datapicts showed troops in smart uniforms of black worsted with enclosed helmets and rebreathers. ‘A solid unit poorly led. Personally, I hold him responsible for the fall of Lethe Eleven to the greenskins. Another heretic.’

Dido called out. ‘Sir, what heretical belief do the traitors hold?’

Sparker lowered his voice. ‘They are followers of the apostate Goge Vandire.’

The hush that greeted his words said it all. Vandire was one of the worst heretics of Imperial history. He had brought corruption to the very throne room of the God-Emperor. Minka had never paid much attention to the annals of Imperial history but even she knew enough to know that. It wouldn’t have mattered either way. They were traitors.

Sparker was holding the best – or worst – until last. ‘Commander of the heresy is self-styled Arch-Duke, Lord-Marshal Holzhauer. He leads five regiments of the elite Elnaur Chasseurs.’

The data pict showed a line of troopers smartly turned out in ornamental black carapace with plumed helmets and ceremonial cloaks over one shoulder.

‘This is the only data pict I could find of Holzhauer.’ Sparker brought up a cold-faced man with brightly polished breastplate and heavily starched velvet jacket. ‘He claims to have never lost a battle,’ Sparker said. There was a long pause before he added, ‘He has clearly never met the Cadians.’

While the others laughed, Minka looked into Holzhauer’s blue eyes and saw cold arrogance and an inexhaustible self-regard. A man willing for others to die on his behalf.

In her heart, she felt that the defence of Cadia had been crippled by traitors like Holzhauer. It had only taken a moment, but as she looked at their enemy, she felt hatred.

Three

THREE

They disembarked the next day. Troopers marched with packs, armour and webbing, loading up by company alongside their Chimeras, while the heavier armour and supplies were all safely stowed and tied down to grav-pallets. Seventh Company was loaded half an hour ahead of schedule. Minka’s squad was on the third level, at the back, near the engines of the second craft.

Each squad found their transport and dropped in through the top hatches. Minka counted her troopers in before following them. There was only one seat left, next to Baine. She ignored him as she slid into the chair and sat back, resting her head against the metalwork behind her.

‘That’s thirty-two days aboard ship,’ Viktor said, and scratched the tally up on the interior panel above his head. Minka paid no notice. Viktor liked to count things. It was how he was.