Ostanko’s cheeks coloured. ‘They are amphibious if you are crossing a marsh. Or a river. But there is no way they’d survive the journey to the island, across an open channel. Working against the waves would swamp them, and they’d be floating in the surf for the defender’s artillery to pick off. Few would make it.’

‘Can we lessen the load on them?’ Irinya asked.

‘No. Even if we stripped out the secondary ammunition, and sent them in bare, the powerplant is not strong enough to push forty-odd tons of metal through that ocean. One swell and they’d all be washed up twenty miles down the coast.’

Bendikt had stopped listening. He drummed his fingers on the table. His enthusiasm was almost bubbling over. ‘Ostanko, Irinya, Baytov – thank you all. I feel better having heard you.’ He jabbed a finger into the air. ‘Holzhauer’s strength is his Elnaur Chasseurs. He is a proud man. He will want to test their mettle against Cadians, so we have to give him that opportunity. We have to present him with a series of impossible choices. First we will take the ­island of Tor Kharybdis. He will have to commit. And when he does, we bleed his Chasseurs white!’

As Baytov, Ostanko and Irinya left, the Munitorum ambassador arrived accompanied by a flurry of what Bendikt liked to call ‘bureau-rats’: thin, sickly-looking scribes and bean-counters who only ever seemed to spill grit into the administrative wheels. They shuffled in about their master. ‘Sir,’ the ambassador announced, ‘I have brought the chief logistician to aid you in your plans.’

‘Good,’ Bendikt said.

The chief logistician stumped in, walking laboriously. Short neck, round head, deep-set squinting eyes, he was a ball of a man, as wide as he was tall. He was draped in voluminous robes of a heavy red felt, embroidered across the waist with a golden aquila. Everything the rotund man did was with great effort. A distinct odour of sweat accompanied him. He spread his ink-stained fingers in a simple greeting. ‘General Bendikt,’ he said, breathing heavily through his nose. ‘The Blessings of the Holy Emperor upon you. I have heard your plans and I will do all I can do to assist them.’

Bendikt nodded. ‘As primary representative of the Munitorum upon the planet, I shall need your active involvement. While in transit, I already started communications with forge worlds that had close links to Cadia.’ The truth was he had gone much further, establishing contact with the foundry, forge and supply worlds throughout the system, as far afield as Makkan, Rhana and Armageddon. ‘I am awaiting the arrival of a craft from the forge world of Rhana.’

The chief logistician did not appear augmented, but if he was not then his powers of recall were impressive. ‘Yes, sir. Their craft is currently awaiting a landing berth. They have sent three Leviathans with full complements of skitarii.’

‘Facilitate their landing as soon as possible.’