Bendikt had studied the plans during the warp-transit. Before the heresy, a suspension bridge had provided a vital link between Crannog Mons and the mainland. Columns of rockcrete had punctuated its length, holding the great steel wires from which the roadway was slung. A tongue of road stuck out from the mainland, but two miles out to sea the heretics had blown it up behind their retreating forces, and now the thick steel cabling hung twisted and loose. A few scraps of rockcrete still clung to the single span that had not yet fallen into the water.

The Munitorum ambassador hesitated. ‘And that is the causeway that von Horne commanded to be built.’

Bendikt had already shifted the auspex to where Imperium siege engineers were driving a vast causeway of shattered boulders out towards the island.

‘A magnificent endeavour,’ he stated.

‘Thank you, sir.’

Von Horne’s original plan had been to surround the whole ­island. Bendikt favoured a simpler, more direct thrust straight at the nearest fortress of Tor Tartarus, and had issued orders before landing on the planet. Now the causeway led straight to the ­island before breaking into three prongs, like a vast stone trident laid out before them, aimed at the heart of the enemy.

‘As you instructed,’ the aide went on, ‘the causeway covers a ­series of assault tunnels, which can transport troops and armour right up to the front line.’

‘Good,’ Bendikt stated. ‘How long until we can attack?’

‘The construction teams are building at the rate of a hundred yards a day. This is starting to slow as we draw closer and the depth of the water increases rapidly. Work teams inform me that there is an ocean shelf where the drop-off is precipitous.’

‘You have not answered my question.’

‘No…’ the Munitorum ambassador said. ‘Of course, we had hoped to finish it for your arrival. But the terrain has slowed our approach considerably.’

Bendikt watched the progress of the other moles. ‘How long do my troops have to wait?’

‘Three months,’ the Munitorum ambassador stated.

‘Impossible,’ Bendikt told him.

‘But…’ the ambassador started.

‘I do not care,’ Bendikt snapped. ‘With all due respect. I cannot wait that long. We must accelerate the attack. Those traitors are sitting on that rock and mocking us all. I have declared that traitor rock must fall by Sanguinalia!’

The ambassador’s cheeks coloured. ‘I will relay your command.’

‘Thank you,’ Bendikt said.

The ambassador bowed before leaving.

Bendikt paid him no notice. He stood for a long time, field-auspex lifted to his face. He had studied the plans of this bastion many times, planning attacks from all directions, and the consequences of each. But this was his first opportunity to see it all for real, to take in the awesome impregnability of this ­ancient defensive work.