He was searching through frozen concentrated food packs looking for something, anything, that was fit to eat. He had not had a decent meal since they had left Holy Terra; in fact it had been so long that earlier today while they were scouting outside the walls, he had considered eating one of the many beetles. It would not have been very satisfying, and it would have tasted fairly awful, but it would still have been better than the frozen food packs. This was the second refrigeration unit he had looked through, and so far his luck had not been good.
'How do these people live on this? I'm going to starve. Wait, that's it, that's been their plan all along!' Haegr was fond of talking to himself.
'Torin and Ragnar cannot take me in a fair fight so they brought me along on this mission knowing that food would be in short supply, weakening me.’ Haegr began to put the pieces together.
'Well, there is food here. I can smell it. If it wasn't for this accursed planet with all its wildlife! I'm lucky to breathe.’
In frustration Haegr stood up, forgetting that he was halfway in the refrigeration unit. The upper two shelves came crashing down, spilling food packs all over the floor and making enough noise to wake the
entire palace. Haegr was oblivious. He was on the hunt, and nothing could deter a wolf in search of food.
'What in the name of Russ is going on in here?' a voice asked.
Ragnar stood in the doorway, holding the leg of a large cooked bird, his other hand hidden behind his back. Taking another bite from the leg he asked again.
'Haegr, what are you doing?'
Haegr answered without even turning around. Nothing would stop him from reaching the third refrigeration unit.
'I'm onto your little scheme, Ragnar! You and Torin have your little laugh. I will find what I'm looking for, and then you will both pay'
Ragnar swallowed. 'Hmm… What is it you are looking for my friend? Maybe I can help.’ he said, taking another bite.
'Don't distract me, Ragnar, the scent is stronger now. I've nearly found it. It's so close I can almost taste it.'
Haegr finally made it to the door of the refrigeration unit. Grabbing the handle he yanked the door open, gazing inside to see more shelves full of food packs. Howling in frustration he slammed the door shut with so much force that his footing gave way and he spun and crashed to the floor. Haegr came to rest sitting on the floor with his back against the door of the refrigeration unit and his legs sprawled out in front of him.
'See what you've done, Ragnar. See what you and Torin have reduced me to,' said Haegr with frustration.
Well, my old friend, I came here to ask your help with something,' Ragnar said as he walked across the room, bringing his other hand from behind his back,
revealing a platter containing the rest of the roasted fowl.
'I seem to have found this meat and I can't possibly eat it all myself,' Ragnar finished.
Haegr looked up to see the huge roasted bird, and a smile stretched across his face. He grabbed the platter with one hand while ripping off the remaining leg with the other.
'You… chomp… and Torin… gulp… both have a… chomp… severe beating coming when I'm done here.’ Haegr said.
'Well then you'd better take this as well.’ Torin said, entering the room with a flagon of what appeared to be ale.
'I'd hate to see you smash both of us while you were parched and dehydrated.’ Torin teased as Haegr grabbed the flagon.
You show wisdom beyond your years, Torin.’ Haegr said.
'Well, before you administer that beating, please be sure that you clean up in here. Let's not be too much trouble to our hosts.’ Torin instructed.
Both Ragnar and Torin turned and left the kitchen.
'We'll be enjoying more of that fine ale on the atrium balcony. Why don't you join us when you've finished here.’ Ragnar shouted over his shoulder. Haegr did not reply, at least not in a way that Ragnar could understand.
Ragnar and Torin stood on the balcony overlooking the palace atrium. The hour was late. In fact it had rolled over into early morning. Maintenance
personnel scurried around, watering the many plants that lined the space and cleaning and polishing the floors. These were tasks that were to be done in the late and early hours of the day. Ragnar had learned on Holy Terra that those who did the everyday drudgeries were not to be seen in the light of day where the palace or political officials could observe them at their work.
Ragnar was glad to be off Terra and back in the galaxy again. He had hoped that by getting away from Terra he would have seen an end to all the cloak and dagger mischief they always had to contend with. He longed for the black and white of the battlefield, the clear view of who the enemy was, but considering all he had witnessed he was beginning to believe that political intrigue was simply a part of life. Even his assignment, or one might say exile, to the Wolfblade was politically motivated. Perhaps it was just the way of things and Ragnar could no longer afford to view the galaxy through the eyes of an immature Blood Claw. Perhaps it was time that he grew up and stopped longing for how he wanted things to be and started accepting things the way they were.
'Ragnar!' Torin raised his voice to get Ragnar's attention.
'I swear sometimes you are the most brooding sort I've ever seen,' scolded Torin.
Ragnar looked up from his drink to see that Magni had joined them. Magni still had not regained his colour, and he appeared to have a slight limp, but other than that he seemed fine. His armour also showed signs of recent repair. The young Space Wolf
could thank Russ that his armour had absorbed the brunt of the explosive rounds.
'My apologies, brother, I did not see you enter the balcony.’ Ragnar still bore the guilt of Magni's wounds. Getting up from his seat he retrieved a chair for Magni and allowed him to sit before retaking his own seat.
'Yes, Magni, you'll have to forgive our honoured friend, he is sometimes a brooding sort,' Torin continued. 'However, tonight I decree will be a night of song and story, and of daring deeds and warriors of Fenris overcoming insurmountable odds. It will not be a night of brooding and analytical debate,' Torin concluded.
'Perhaps I should start with the story of how I defeated Torin in hand to hand combat back on Terra,' Haegr stated as he entered the balcony. He was carrying a new flagon of ale and there were enough particles of roast meat in his beard to feed a platoon of palace guards for a week.
The three Space Wolves lifted their tankards in salute of their battle-brother as he approached.
'Yes, yes, or perhaps we could discuss the time you were bested by a tankard that attached itself to your foot,' retorted Torin. Ragnar laughed so hard he almost snorted ale out his nostrils as he recalled his first day at house Belisarius. Magni was laughing as well, but it was an uncomfortable laugh. Noticing this, Ragnar elaborated on the story, only embellishing occasionally and only enough to make the story funnier.
'I would have loved to have seen that,' Magni continued, 'but what I would really like to hear is the story of Ragnar and the Spear of Russ.'
Silence instantly fell over the four Space Wolves as all eyes fell upon Ragnar.
'Why would you want to hear that story, pup?' queried Ragnar. 'Why would you want to hear about a young Blood Claw's foolish mistake?'
'I meant no offence, Ragnar, really, and it was not told to us as the mistake of a Blood Claw at all. Lord Ranek tells the story quite differently in fact. He tells of how you used Russ's own spear to thwart Magnus the Red, preventing his entry through the portal and saving the lives of your battle-brothers with quick decisiveness and courage,' Magni stated proudly.
'So the old man tells that story, eh?' Ragnar never realised how much he missed the council of Ranek until that moment. 'Perhaps some day I'll grace you with the tale, but not this night. There are far better things to talk about than that.' Ragnar looked at Torin who gave Ragnar a wink.
Torin knew all too well the anguish in Ragnar's heart and his desire to return to Fenris.
'Besides, why would we want to talk about that when I'm here? I've got much more entertaining stories,' Haegr began to elaborate.
Ragnar walked to the edge of the balcony and looked out over the atrium, its cathedral-like pillars, rising up into a vaulted ceiling. The ground level was clear glass all across the front and down both sides, so that passers-by could see in and enjoy the astounding collection of plant life, and a fine collection it was. Exotic offworld plants were painstakingly cared for and displayed here. Ragnar thought it was odd that
anyone felt the need to transplant plant life onto a planet like Hyades. Just above the ground level several large stained glass windows lined both sides of the atrium, each one depicting some glorious part of Hyades's rich history: soldiers fighting back unspeakable creatures, and heroes protecting the masses from certain death. Ragnar understood these images. He, like all his Wolf brothers, was dedicated to the same calling, destined to defend those who could not defend themselves.
Laughter from behind Ragnar caused him to turn. Haegr had picked up the small table and was wielding it like a shield, no doubt acting out one of his greatest adventures. Ragnar knew that even here among the Wolfblade their calling was the same, it was no different here than on Fenris, within the Fang. The mission was the same, and he knew that it was here that he belonged.
Ragnar turned once again, but this time it was Haegr dropping the table that had caught his attention. As usual Haegr's story skills were no match for his imagination. Ragnar was heading back to rescue his out-matched comrade when a scent caught his attention. It was subtle, almost undetectable but it was a scent that should not be there. During the maintenance of a Space Marine's armour, the Iron Priests were very careful during the rituals to utter every incantation exactly, and to anoint every part with the sacred oils. It was this attention to detail that allowed these ancient artefacts to serve the Emperor. The scent of anointing oil was on the air this night, and it was not coming from the Wolfblade.