One by one, each of the penal and guard divisions relayed their casualty lists. At last he compiled them all and took them to Mere.

‘Sir.’ Prassan’s voice cracked as he handed the sheet to Adjutant Mere. ‘The casualty figures you requested.’

Mere nodded without speaking and Prassan kept his concerns to himself.

As the fifth day wore on, the penal troops made progressively less and less ground. Fox holes were enlarged, joined together, dug deeper, until trench networks spread across the ridges and high points. Desperate fights erupted as trenching teams struggled to take the best land. In some places they were so close that the occupants could throw grenades into each other’s trenches.

In the early hours of the sixth day the two sides had reached an impasse. Bendikt needed something to break the enemy’s defence line. Mere presented him with a list of available troops.

Bendikt shook his head.

‘Shall I send in the Cadians?’

‘No,’ Bendikt said. He paused, considering. ‘Send my regards to Superior Melissya. Tell her that the Emperor has granted her wards their moment of redemption.’

The two hundred Sisters Repentia had spent their last night alive in the corner of the low-ceilinged 17th Assembly Chamber ­waiting for this moment. Superior Melissya was leading her charges in prayers when she received the news.

She let out a long breath and closed her eyes, taking a moment to give her thanks to the God-Emperor. Lifting her hands, she related the joyful news to her wards. ‘The Emperor forgives the virtuous dead,’ she announced. ‘Our moment of redemption has arrived.’

There were shouts of approval and delight from the wards. Even those that wore gags to mark their oaths of silence let out low moans of release. They had lashed themselves, both mentally and physically, with the sins of their former lives. The only release from this torment would be their own deaths. Only then would their service to the Emperor be complete.

They were quickly led up into the lower levels of Terra’s Contempt. The muzzled women knelt on one knee as Superior Melissya reminded them of their oaths and their sins. They moaned and cursed as she whipped them up into a fury of righteous anger.

They could smell the battlefield through the echoing corridors. They sang as they marched towards the battlefront, stained chainswords resting on their shoulders, flesh exposed to the cruel­ties of the enemy, their expressions of grim aggression covered for the moment.

Their attack was reinforced by a battalion of ogryn storm troops and storm squads of Mordian veterans armed with flamers.

As the sun broke the horizon on the sixth day, Bendikt gave the order for attack.

Superior Melissya made the sign of the aquila and, screaming her war cries, she charged.