Wolfsbane
Cover
Backlist
Backlist
Book 1 – HORUS RISING
Book 2 – FALSE GODS
Book 3 – GALAXY IN FLAMES
Book 4 – THE FLIGHT OF THE EISENSTEIN
Book 5 – FULGRIM
Book 6 – DESCENT OF ANGELS
Book 7 – LEGION
Book 8 – BATTLE FOR THE ABYSS
Book 9 – MECHANICUM
Book 10 – TALES OF HERESY
Book 11 – FALLEN ANGELS
Book 12 – A THOUSAND SONS
Book 13 – NEMESIS
Book 14 – THE FIRST HERETIC
Book 15 – PROSPERO BURNS
Book 16 – AGE OF DARKNESS
Book 17 – THE OUTCAST DEAD
Book 18 – DELIVERANCE LOST
Book 19 – KNOW NO FEAR
Book 20 – THE PRIMARCHS
Book 21 – FEAR TO TREAD
Book 22 – SHADOWS OF TREACHERY
Book 23 – ANGEL EXTERMINATUS
Book 24 – BETRAYER
Book 25 – MARK OF CALTH
Book 26 – VULKAN LIVES
Book 27 – THE UNREMEMBERED EMPIRE
Book 28 – SCARS
Book 29 – VENGEFUL SPIRIT
Book 30 – THE DAMNATION OF PYTHOS
Book 31 – LEGACIES OF BETRAYAL
Book 32 – DEATHFIRE
Book 33 – WAR WITHOUT END
Book 34 – PHAROS
Book 35 – EYE OF TERRA
Book 36 – THE PATH OF HEAVEN
Book 37 – THE SILENT WAR
Book 38 – ANGELS OF CALIBAN
Book 39 – PRAETORIAN OF DORN
Book 40 – CORAX
Book 41 – THE MASTER OF MANKIND
Book 42 – GARRO
Book 43 – SHATTERED LEGIONS
Book 44 – THE CRIMSON KING
Book 45 – TALLARN
Book 46 – RUINSTORM
Book 47 – OLD EARTH
Book 48 – THE BURDEN OF LOYALTY
More tales from the Horus Heresy...
CYBERNETICA
SONS OF THE FORGE
WOLF KING
PROMETHEAN SUN
AURELIAN
BROTHERHOOD OF THE STORM
THE CRIMSON FIST
PRINCE OF CROWS
DEATH AND DEFIANCE
TALLARN: EXECUTIONER
SCORCHED EARTH
BLADES OF THE TRAITOR
THE PURGE
THE HONOURED
THE UNBURDENED
RAVENLORD
Many of these titles are also available as abridged and unabridged audiobooks. Order the full range of Horus Heresy novels and audiobooks from blacklibrary.com
Audio Dramas
THE DARK KING & THE LIGHTNING TOWER
RAVEN’S FLIGHT
GARRO: OATH OF MOMENT
GARRO: LEGION OF ONE
BUTCHER’S NAILS
GREY ANGEL
GARRO: BURDEN OF DUTY
GARRO: SWORD OF TRUTH
THE SIGILLITE
HONOUR TO THE DEAD
WOLF HUNT
HUNTER’S MOON
THIEF OF REVELATIONS
TEMPLAR
ECHOES OF RUIN
MASTER OF THE FIRST
THE LONG NIGHT
IRON CORPSES
RAPTOR
Download the full range of Horus Heresy audio dramas from blacklibrary.com
Also available
MACRAGGE’S HONOUR
A Horus Heresy graphic novel
The Horus Heresy
The Horus Heresy
It is a time of legend.
The galaxy is in flames. The Emperor’s glorious vision for humanity is in ruins. His favoured son, Horus, has turned from his father’s light and embraced Chaos.
His armies, the mighty and redoubtable Space Marines, are locked in a brutal civil war. Once, these ultimate warriors fought side by side as brothers, protecting the galaxy and bringing mankind back into the Emperor’s light. Now they are divided.
Some remain loyal to the Emperor, whilst others have sided with the Warmaster. Pre-eminent amongst them, the leaders of their thousands-strong Legions are the primarchs. Magnificent, superhuman beings, they are the crowning achievement of the Emperor’s genetic science. Thrust into battle against one another, victory is uncertain for either side.
Worlds are burning. At Isstvan V, Horus dealt a vicious blow and three loyal Legions were all but destroyed. War was begun, a conflict that will engulf all mankind in fire. Treachery and betrayal have usurped honour and nobility. Assassins lurk in every shadow. Armies are gathering. All must choose a side or die.
Horus musters his armada, Terra itself the object of his wrath. Seated upon the Golden Throne, the Emperor waits for his wayward son to return. But his true enemy is Chaos, a primordial force that seeks to enslave mankind to its capricious whims.
The screams of the innocent, the pleas of the righteous resound to the cruel laughter of Dark Gods. Suffering and damnation await all should the Emperor fail and the war be lost.
The age of knowledge and enlightenment has ended.
The Age of Darkness has begun.
Dramatis Personae
~ Dramatis Personae ~
The Emperor
Rogal Dorn, Primarch, Imperial Fists
Jaghatai Khan, Primarch, White Scars
Malcador the Sigilite, Regent of Terra
Sanguinius, Primarch, Blood Angels
Constantin Valdor, Custodian Guard
Ezekyle Abaddon, First Captain, Sons of Horus
Horus Lupercal, Primarch, Sons of Horus
Knights Errant
Garviel Loken
Bror Tyrfingr
Space Wolves
Leman Russ, Primarch
Bjorn the One-Handed
Ogvai Ogvai Helmschrot, Jarl of Tra
Lufven Close-Handed, Jarl of For
Amlodhi Skarssen Skarssensson, Jarl of Fyf
Skunnr, Jarl of Sesc
Hvarl Red-Blade, Jarl of Sepp
Baldr Vidunsson, Jarl of For-Twa
Sturgard Joriksson, Jarl of Tra-Tra
Laughing Jaurmag of Tolv, Previous Jarl of Tolv
Scarred Oki, Jarl of Tolv
Jorin Bloodhowl, Jarl of Dekk-Tra
Kva, 'Who-is-Divided', Rune Priest
Grimnr Blackblood, Huscarl
Freki and Geri, Wolf-brothers of Leman Russ
Fith Godsmote, Battle-brother to Bjorn
Denizens of the Underverse
The Erlking, Malevolent psychic echo
Amarok, Guesting daemonkin
Bror Tyrfingr's pack
Blind Ragner
Himmlik
Enrir the Fat
Chattering Flokr
Gren the Happy
Mechanicum
Friedisch Adum Ship Qvo, Tech-Acolytum
Belisarius Cawl, Tech-Acolytum
Hester Aspertia Sigma-Sigma, Magos Domina of the Trisolian Taghmata
Tez-Lar, Cawl's pet servitor
Benician Mendoza, Viceroy Extractatorian of the Trisolian Forge World
Sota-Nul, Emissary of the True Mechanicum
Kelbor-Hal, Fabricator-General, Martian faction
Diort, A skitarii
Prologue
Prologue
Firstborn Child
'I have something for you, Horus.'
That was the message the Emperor sent to Horus Lupercal. That was the beginning of the end of his solitude.
Soon after, Horus found he had a new brother.
Horus guessed something momentous was coming. The Master of Terra had disappeared on a mysterious errand He would not speak to His first son about. Horus knew the Emperor had made twenty sons. It did not take a man of Horus' genius to put together the pieces, but he had only known with certainty that the first of the others had been found when the Emperor's fleet broke warp and approached his own. He felt it then. He could feel him.
The Emperor greeted Horus in an annular observation gallery circling the dome of a refectorum. The gallery was an architectural fancy, a self-conscious mimicking of the cathedrals of Old Earth. To Horus' critical eye it was a weakness in the ship, and should not have been included. There should have been a firmer divide between utility and beauty. The Emperor disagreed.
That day, however, the gallery served a useful purpose.
Father and son looked through curved armourglass at the group of feral men occupying the refectorum tables sixty metres below. Amid the opulence of the Emperor's ship the newcomers were incongruous. They were shaggy-maned, draped in filthy pelts, armoured in leather and iron-ringed byrnies over clothes whose rough weave appeared shockingly primitive under the even, artificial light. Their muscles were as big as mortal man's could be; they were hard men, warriors born, but unsophisticated. Their tattooed skin was dirty, their hair was filthier still. Their scent was kept from Horus, but they looked like they stank, and he wrinkled his nose as if he could smell them.
They behaved like children, toying with the glassware and the lamps that adorned the tables. They laughed like fools when they worked out how to activate a lumen; they laughed louder when the primitive playing with it dropped and broke it. They sniffed at fine wine and expensive foods with suspicious faces, laughed again at the fussy dishes of delicacies presented to them by servers they delighted in harassing. They were insolent, unworthy, scoffing at the Emperor's largesse. Horus glanced at his father, but the Emperor did not share his affront, His perfect, luminous face radiating nothing but pride.
The Emperor's eyes were fixed on their leader, the greatest of them all. He was a giant almost as massive as Horus himself. Though he was draped in the same rude skins and armour as his followers; though his long, blond hair was dressed in similar backward style to theirs; though he hunched over the table and picked at the kingly food with grubby fingers, ignoring the cutlery provided, it was clear as day is from night that he was not the same as his followers.
He was the same as Horus. This was the presence he felt.
This savage was his brother.
Horus stared at the barbarian king. No fraternal feeling came to him. Instead he was flooded with dismay. By his brother's feet lay two enormous animals one a grey so glossy it was almost silver, the other black. They appeared to have no difficulty accepting their new environment and slept easily on the floor.
'Are those actual wolves?' Horus said, fascinated despite himself.
'After a fashion,' said the Emperor. He spared His son a brief, benevolent look. 'They resemble the animals of Old Earth, though l think you would find the Terran species disappointingly small if you ever saw one.'
'They look like wolves,' said Horus. He thought of his own Legion's badge, and his warriors' lupine affectations. They seemed trite and false by comparison to the men below. They were human wolves, walking on two feet. 'They live with wolves?' he said.
'They believe themselves kin to them. Wolves are important to their culture,' said the Emperor.
'These men are primitives,' said Horus guardedly. He tried to look past his prejudice to their potential. They were strong, and if they were as proficient in combat as they looked, would make excellent recruits for the Legions. At the same time, the idea of these brutes let loose in the stars appalled him. He tried to smother the emotion, but it squirmed in his mental grip and would not die. Of course his father read his mind. Of course.
The Emperor smiled, an expression felt more than seen. 'Are the gangs of Cthonia more civilised than these men? Are the techno-barbarians of Terra who fight in my name?'
One of the warriors was tapping at a decanter with a dirty fingernail, puzzled by the glass. A roar of laughter went up from his fellows as he accidentally pushed it from the table and it shattered on the marble floor. Glass skittered across the hall. Priceless purple amasec soaked into irreplaceable rugs.
'They know of war with guns,' said Horus. 'The Cthonians know technology. The stars were no mystery to us. These men carry swords of plain steel.' He avoided saying the word savages aloud, only just.
'Their highest art is the forging of steel,' admitted the Emperor. 'Their world has regressed to a pre-technological state, and if you saw it you would not be surprised why. It is a beautiful, savage place of ice, fire and monsters. A charming experiment in reconstructed mythologies.'
'What do you mean?'
'Fenris is a relic from the days before Old Night.'
Rarely did the Emperor refer to the past, even so obliquely as that. 'Are they fit to serve you, my lord?' asked Horus. He hurried on before the Emperor could reply. 'They will take much training. Think of the acclimatisation period. We have wiped out cultures more sophisticated than theirs. We should do the same to them.' It was a plausible lie. His objections to these wolf-kin were rooted elsewhere entirely, and he was ashamed of that.
'We have killed many similar societies, but we have welcomed hundreds more worlds like theirs into the Imperium. Fenris has complied. There will be no purge.'
Horus was bereft. He was no longer alone. He should not care, but he did. He was embarrassing himself.
Sensing his son's resentment the Emperor rested a hand on Horus' shoulder. The touch sent shivers into Horus' soul. Loving devotion welled in his hearts that he could not deny, try as he might.
'I understand your disappointment,' the Emperor said, amused. 'You and I have fought side by side for years. It is natural for you to feel this…' The Emperor's humour grew. Horus basked in it like he would the sunlight, even as it burned him. '…sibling rivalry. But I need him. We need him. He was made by me as you were. He is a brother for you, if you like. Brotherly competition is to be encouraged, because it will drive you on to greater efforts.'
The Emperor required Horus to look at Him, so Horus did.
'I know he is a little rough around the edges. Would you believe he challenged me to an eating contest?' The Emperor laughed softly. 'But I will tolerate no dissension between you. You are to cooperate. You must learn to make war together. I am relying on you to help me civilise him.'
'Impossible. He is a savage,' said Horus, unable to keep the word to himself any longer.
'I advise you not to underestimate him, Horus,' said the Emperor. 'He is woven from the same genetic threads that you are. He has conquered half a world a hundred times more savage than Cthonia. Had I not found him and taken him from his people, all of Fenris would have been his. The feat that would have been.' Once more, he smiled. 'Impressive. Do not underestimate him,' he repeated.
Horus' will buckled under the force of the Emperor's attention, but his misgivings would not retreat. He looked into his father's face. Few could do that. A poisonous worry gripped him that this new warrior would be able to do the same, that he was no longer unique. He was jealous, he realised. He would have to share the golden attentions of his father with another. The years they'd shared seemed reduced to an eye-blink. He thought they would last for all time, and just like that they were done. In that moment, everything changed forever.
'He could turn against you.' Horus suppressed a tremble in his voice.
'He will not,' said the Emperor with certainty. 'He will be as loyal as you are. His efforts will multiply yours, when he takes command of his Legion. Two of you, striding the heavens!' The Emperor was pleased. 'This is a propitious day.'
'You are going to give him a Legion?' said Horus. 'Forgive me, father, but is that wise?'
'I gave the gang lord of Cthonia his. It was your birthright, as it is his.'
Horus dropped his eyes. The Emperor radiated a sense of such wisdom. Once more, Horus was ashamed to have questioned Him.
'You are entitled to your misgivings, Horus,' said the Emperor. 'But you must make this work. He is only the first.'
I am the first, thought Horus before he could stop himself.
'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.
'Enoch Rathvin pays his fealty to his gene-father without a second thought,' said Horus. 'I expected more resistance from him. He is proud.'
'Your sons were no different when I gave them to you,' said the Emperor. His golden eyes were fixed on the encounter playing out below.
Rathvin stood. The Fenrisians and the Terran stared at each other with mutual suspicion. Rathvin left. Only after he had been gone for several minutes did they relax, and even then they did not return to their light-hearted state, but paced, primed for action.
'So, Horus, will you meet your brother?'
Horus glanced up at his creator.
'Yes,' he said.
'Then go to him,' said the Emperor, gesturing down at the hall.
Horus turned back to the refectorum.
His brother was looking right at him, grinning like the savage he was.
The primarchs met alone in a stateroom. The savage king's escort were not happy at being separated from their lord, and it had taken some time to accomplish. In the end the king had half cajoled and half jested his men away. The production of a large vat of beer, dragged out of the ship's stores, had helped.
The new primarch seemed less primitive without his clansmen. His clothes were the same, of course, and although his men were away from his side his wolves were not. But his bearing was different now he was unobserved by his warriors, so much so that his garb suddenly seemed like an elaborate costume for a masquerade.
He was standing, facing the door, when Horus arrived.
Ice-blue eyes locked with brown.
Horus stood in the doorway a fraction of a second too long to convey complete confidence. He looked at the Wolf King, and the Wolf King looked at him.
Horus' brother broke the impasse.
'So you're the first, eh?' The lord of Fenris had a guttural accent that invested his Gothic with ridiculous snarls and growls, like a beast attempting speech. 'Our… father?' He said the word questioningly, as if he was new to the concept. 'He told me about you and all the rest of mine kin. He said we will be friending. What again was your name?' He smiled. He obviously knew the answer. Such an obvious probe annoyed Horus.
Horus put aside his petty feelings. There was more to this man than met the eye. He would be an asset to the Great Crusade, if he could be properly tamed. Horus made himself see it and accept it.
'I am Horus, primarch of the Sixteenth Legion, the Luna Wolves. Who are you?'
'You are wolf?' said the warrior. Lips peeled back from sharp teeth.
'We are both wolf, I am named Leman, King of the Russ.' Russ slapped his chest as if the title were noteworthy. 'But I am more than this, think I.' He became thoughtful 'I have always knowed I not of Fenris.'
'Known,' said Horus.
'Ja,' said the warrior king, 'Sorry, I learned your language only five days ago.'
Horus raised an eyebrow at that. It was an impressive feat.
'You know of the Crusade?' said Horus. The room had been set out for a meeting of minds. There were comfortable chairs in the room made for a primarch's stature. They both remained standing.
'I do know of this war. The… Emperor?' he said, again slightly questioningly. 'He has told me what I am, and what I made for.'
'Do you agree with His aims?' said Horus.
'An empire in the stars? Who could not agree with that?' said Leman of the Russ. 'If I did not, I would come along for adventure. No one of the Russ make murder in the Uppland.' Russ held a cup he did not drink from, lightly gripping the rim with his giant's fingers. 'But I have no choice. It is written in my wyrd.'
Horus' face expressed an unspoken question.
Russ searched for an appropriate translation. 'My fate, though it is more than that.'
'We do not believe in fate.'
'This is the Imperial Truth? This the Emperor also says to me on our trip here. An interesting idea,' he said, as if he had evaluated and rejected the concept. 'The Imperial Truth,' he repeated, changing the emphasis as if trying out which way suited him best.
'You do not believe it?' said Horus.
Leman of the Russ shrugged. 'When gods come from the sky and tell you there are no gods, it takes little time to see what is true and what is not.'
'And what do you think is true?'
'I think a believer who ceases to believe when the truth of his world confirms those beliefs is a fool,' he said simply, 'It doesn't matter what gods say. We don't pay much attention to them. They are as drunk and stupid as we.' He grinned.
The warrior knew exactly what Horus thought of him.
Do not underestimate him. The Emperor's words came back to Lupercal.
'That will change,' said Horus. 'You will see that the Imperial Truth is correct. The Emperor is a man, a great man, but He is a man. He is not a god.'
Russ shrugged again and then he drained his cup. 'My people already call Him the Allfather - they believe Him the king of our gods. My warriors out there believe they are in the Oververse, in Uppland.'
'Where?'
'The afterlife,' said Russ with a feral glee, daring Horus to guess whether he believed this himself or not.
'There is no afterlife,' said Horus. 'This place is as real as your world. I am glad to meet you, Leman, King of the Russ. We shall grow to be great comrades, I am sure.' He held out his hand.
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