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Chapters (36)
  1. Cover
  2. Backlist
  3. The Horus Heresy
  4. Dramatis Personae
  5. Prologue
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Afterword
  34. About the Author
  35. An Extract from ‘Wolf King’
  36. A Black Library Publication

All across the Space Wolves fleet, breaching craft and boarding torpedoes took flight, heading for the Vengeful Spirit's supporting vessels. Following the lessons of nature's swarming insects, they relied on sheer numbers to get them through. Thousands died. The attack seemed reckless, ill thought out. But every move was made with cold calculation. Casualties were but one factor in Russ' plan, a cost to be borne, as the Great Wolf committed his entire Legion to the single purpose of killing the Warmaster.

In a strobing flash of engines from hundreds of launching ships, every remaining warrior of the Rout went to war.

Twenty-One

Twenty-One

Into The Vengeful Spirit

Russ' Stormbird Hugin came shrieking into the embarkation deck through decompression gales. Bodies and loose objects bounced from its faring as it slewed into the vast hangars. His pilots were the best the Legion had. Precisely aimed bolt-fire cut down dozens of warriors rushing to drive out the boarders. Missiles screamed away from its wings, wreaking havoc among the ships parked along the deck's huge landing aprons.

More and more gunships roared through the compromised blast doors. Explosions ballooned from missile impact points and died, their flames sucked prematurely away by the howling wind. Sound lost its potency as the air thinned. Barrels of promethium, ammo pallets, loaders - anything not chained to the deck slid along the floor under the battering windstorm. Lighter objects were upended completely and sent hurtling out of the breaches.

Hugin put down. Void shields flexed around it presenting a protective dome that turned aside the returning fire of the traitors. The doors opened, and the Varagyr, Leman Russ' personal guard, poured out.

They were met by the Sons of Horus. Hate flared on both sides. The loyal Legion slammed into the traitors' shield walls and firing positions, overtaken with killing frenzy and desirous only of slaughter. Killing fields before the numerous bunkers built into the walls cut down many of the first out of the ships, but the gunships deployed their heavy weapons to break them down, and fire support teams fanned out to add to the barrage. The volleys sent to and fro were murderous, killing a great many of Russ' sons in the open spaces of the deck before they could close with the foe, but here and there they made it into melee range, and moment by moment the volume of the traitors' fire declined. By then the first wave was down, and more were arriving. Howling like beasts, they rushed through doors and rents deeper into the ship. Soon enough the Sons of Horus were locked in combat blade to blade with Vlka Fenryka.