'If I can find him, and you, then the others will be located eventually. You must grow used to the idea that you are no longer alone.' His father was pleased by that thought. Horus could not be.

'If I cannot trust you to learn how to work with the others, and lead them as the first of my sons, then I have overestimated you,' the Emperor said.

He said it blandly, but the thought of disappointing his father struck Horus with a panicked dread. 'I will not fail you, father,' he swore. 'I shall befriend him. I shall help you teach him.'

The servers providing meat and drink to the warriors were mocked and chased about by the barbarians. They were frightened, and no threat whatsoever to the burly primitives. When a high-ranking warrior of the VI Legion entered the hall the situation was different. The warriors ceased their clownish antics the instant the door opened. They went from tribal buffoons to battle-ready warriors in the space of an eye-blink.

Horus leaned forwards. 'Now that,' he breathed, 'is remarkable.' The Emperor nodded. 'Enoch Rathvin meets his gene-father. It is only fair that he be the first to greet him. I hope you are not offended that you will be second.'

The men showed no sign of the Legiones Astartes dread as the legionary approached them. Instead they appraised him for weakness. They tracked his every movement with their eyes, hands loosely curled around axe throats and sword hilts. Powerful though they were, the Fenrisians were small compared to the armoured legionary. They did not understand the raptor head insignia and battle honours that marked Rathvin out as the master of the VI Legion, and a great warrior in his own right. Nevertheless, the barbarians were a threat to him. Like the wolves they aped, they were dangerous enough alone, but deadly in pack, even to much larger creatures like Rathvin.

There were similarities between Horus' legion and the king's men, Horus was forced to admit.

Between primarchs and legionary there was tension of a different sort. They could not help staring at each other. Like recognised like. Horus stifled a snort of derision. Was his barbarian kin actually sniffing at the air? Could he smell his gene-seed in this warrior? He shut down his contempt. Why should he assume this warrior would be the same as him exactly?

The savage king grasped Rathvin by his shoulders, and looked him up and down. The vox pick-ups for the gallery emitters were inactive, and so the king's words to the man he would ultimately replace went unheard. The master of the VI nodded, and knelt, head bowed, at the foot of his primarch.

The warriors did not laugh this time. They stood stock-still, wary as wolves at the forest's fringe when confronted with a bear.