Russ grinned more widely. The meeting amused him. That annoyed Horus. He wanted this backwoods chieftain to show him more respect. But Horus had always hidden his feelings well.

Russ grasped his hand hard. There was amazing strength in the grip.

'We shall be brothers,' said the Wolf King.

'I am sure you have much to discuss with our father. I shall see you soon.' Horus dipped his head and was about to walk through the door when the savage king called out.

'Hey, Horus of the Luna Wolves! On my world, it is common for brothers to fight. Do you think, my brother, that we might fight?'

'I will spar with you, if that is what you wish,' said Horus.

'No! Fight!' said the King of the Russ. He mimed a bizarre wrestler's crouch, his hands clawed and teeth bared. 'Who would win, eh?'

'We are brothers. We will not fight.'

'Ah, go on,' said Russ. 'Think about it.' His bluff manner was already trying Horus' patience, so soon into their relationship. 'If we fought, who would win?'

Horus smiled coldly at his foundling brother. 'I would.'

Leman of the Russ smiled and nodded thoughtfully.

'Perhaps you would,' he said. 'Perhaps one day, we shall see.'

One

One

A Company Of Wolves

Of all the surviving members of Malcador's Chosen sent to Molech, Garviel Loken was the last to be called to the Wolf King's presence. Macer Varren and Proximo Tarchon had been summoned first. Ares Voitek had been woken for a while from his healing sleep to attend upon the primarch of the Space Wolves, and the human Rahua revealed reluctantly that even he had been to the Hrafnkel. His reluctance was understandable. A mere human was given such a great honour before Garviel Loken, agent Alpha-Prime of the Knights Errant. Loken was left on Titan and wondering if his lack of summons were a good or a bad thing.

Loken spent the waiting time wisely. There were things to do. There were always things to do, not least submitting to endless interrogations by Malcador's agents. The questioning was understandable He had been in the presence of the Warmaster, his gene-father. As the interrogations occupied only a portion of his days, he was permitted to take up his duties between interviews. These occupied a portion more.

He still had too much time on his hands.

The mind of a legionary is capacious, and despite his allotted tasks, there remained plenty of space for doubt: why had he not been brought before Russ?

When the call finally came it was a relief, although he knew there was a chance the meeting could end in his death.