EPILOGUE
The war for Corinthus V was nearly over. One more victory and the Space Wolves would break the power of the Night Lords. Yet the war had gone on for one day more than the Space Wolves had expected. With victory in their grasp in a battle on the streets of Saint Harman, Tor, a member of the Wolf Guard, had led his fellow Space Marines into an ambush meant to draw out the Wolf Lord and decapitate the great company. The strength and skill of the Space Wolves had allowed them to emerge defeated but unbowed. Based on information gathered by Space Wolf scouts, Ragnar Blackmane was ready to turn the tables on the forces of Chaos. This time, the main attack by the Space Wolves would provide a diversion, while Tor would get the chance to redeem himself in an assault against a Chaos sorcerer, possibly the leader of these renegades.
Wolf Lord Ragnar Blackmane paced back and forth in front of his men, as they readied themselves for an offensive into Saint Harman. The members of his force waited just outside the Administratum sector, the city's heart, the same sector of the city where the Wolf Lord had been ambushed only the day before.
Ragnar wanted to give the order to attack. He was ready to seize victory over the traitors and the souls who slavishly followed them, but he knew that timing would be critical. He had to wait until he received the signal that Tor was in place.
Within the fetid and rusted sewer tunnels beneath Saint Harman, over a kilometre away from the Wolf Lord, Tor led a group of Grey Hunters as they followed two Space Wolf scouts. A powerful sorcerer among the Chaos Space Marines had planned a ritual to open a portal into the warp. According to the scouts, the blasphemous servants of Chaos had chosen the Cathedral of Saint Harman, the city's namesake, as the site of their unholy ceremony.
Tor clenched and unclenched his fist. His Wolf Lord had chosen him from his Wolf Guard to lead this strike, while the rest of the Space Wolves provided a distraction. The day before, Tor had led his pack into an ambush and drawn another pack with him. He had nearly lost his life and had cost his Chapter a few of their great warriors, but Ragnar had chosen him, regardless. For that, Tor was thankful.
He felt responsible for what had happened, and he longed for a chance to restore his honour and make amends. Ragnar had taken him aside before dawn and explained the plan. Tor and a hand-picked group of Grey Hunters would interrupt the Chaos ritual and slay the sorcerer responsible. To provide cover, the Space Wolves would conduct a massive assault, hopefully drawing away as many of the enemy as possible. Tor was surprised that after his failure the Wolf Lord would select him, but one look in Ragnar's eyes and Tor knew that the Wolf Lord understood exactly how he felt. Tor would not fail.
The older scout, Hoskuld, raised his hand for Tor and his men to halt. The squad hesitated in the acrid dimly-lit sewers. Tor could hear the water dripping from leaking pipes and even in the dim light, he could see the colours of contaminants swirling in the water where he and his men stood.
Hoskuld indicated a set of metal rungs leading to a large grate to the street above. The alley next to the cathedral,' he whispered. With that, the scouts turned their backs on Tor and his men and jogged off into the deepening shadows of the sewers. Tor knew that they would find their own positions to support the assault.
It was time. Tor activated his comm and signalled to Ragnar, before deactivating it again. The attack would begin, and the rest would be up to him and his pack.
Ragnar's comm buzzed, and then went silent. Just as he had previously instructed, Tor had simply signalled, and then cut his comm. There was no need to risk the enemy intercepting their messages. The time to launch the attack had come.
Ragnar activated his comm, speaking to all of his Wolf Guard, save Tor, who were scattered throughout the force. 'Move out! The time has come!'
A soft chorus of howls began from one end of the Space Wolf force, and then raced to the other as each pack joined in. Ragnar enjoyed the sound and he could feel the excitement in his veins. There would be nothing subtle about this attack. The Wolf Lord wanted the Night Lords to know he was coming, and he counted on the fact that in their arrogance, the Chaos Space Marines would see the howls as the foolish bravado of a mob of barbarians, rather than realise this entire attack was a distraction.
Packs of Grey Hunters, Blood Claws and a team of Long Fangs made their way into the rockcrete and plasteel canyons of Saint Harman fanning out into different streets. Each group moved carefully checking for booby traps and ambushes.
A pack of ten Blood Claws escorted the Wolf Lord. Ragnar's push through the street came with its own mobile cover. A tank, the Predator Annihilator Wolf's Rage, led the way, with a modified bulldozer blade fused to its front hull, allowing it to push through the debris-filled street. The tank's lascannons gave the Wolf's Rage the firepower to deal with almost any enemy. The vehicle was at a disadvantage in the narrow city streets, but Ragnar had chosen the vehicle and its crew because he knew that the threat they posed would draw attention.
The Night Lords didn't disappoint Ragnar. The front blade of the predator struck a large chunk of rock, and then a melta-bomb detonated, incinerating the blade and sending a spray of hot metal across the front of the tank. Ragnar and the Blood Claws threw themselves to the ground, instinctively going for cover. Their instincts proved correct as bolter fire rained down from the windows of two buildings on each side of the street ahead of them.
'Everyone, follow me,' Ragnar ordered the Blood Claws on his comm. He got off the pavement and immediately broke into a full run, racing past the damaged tank into the building on his left. The only way to eliminate the enemy would be to carve them out of their holes. Skulls of long-dead scribes and bureaucrats stared blankly from the rockcrete facing of the building. Ragnar joked to himself that they had retained their personalities in death.
Bolter rounds ricocheted off Ragnar's power armour, pelting him like hail. He took a grenade from his belt and threw it on the run at the main doors to the building. They were large and darkened with a yellow Imperial eagle emblazoned upon them, which made a perfect target. The krak grenade blew the doors to pieces.
Within seconds, Ragnar and the Blood Claws entered the smoke left behind by the doors and found cover in the building. Now, Ragnar had to lead his men up and find the foe. He hit his comm. This is the Wolf Lord. My pack has engaged the enemy'
Tor and his men had waited for over half an hour in the sewer tunnel since giving the signal. He looked over at Jarl, one of the most experienced Grey Hunters, a warrior best known for his service against
orks. Jarl wore a strand of ork fangs as a trophy, in addition to a necklace with a single wolf tooth. He rested a large axe on one shoulder and held his bolter one-handed. 'We're ready, sir, if the time is right,' Jarl said.
Tor realised that he had been looking to Jarl for consent to start the assault, but that wasn't Jarl's decision to make, it was his. Tor knew this was another reason why Ragnar had chosen him. Tor could make sound decisions and he needed to do so again before he let yesterday's events creep into his brain and make him doubt himself. 'The time is right. Let's move, quickly and quietly. We make sure the ritual is starting before we reveal ourselves.'
Tor grabbed the rungs and climbed up to the metal grate. He carefully opened the grate and stepped into an alley between two buildings. The alley was dark, the only light coming from the street visible at one end of the alley. Tor could hear the distant echoes of bolter shots and explosions. He raised his bolter and stealthily moved towards the street.
When he reached the end of the alley, he peered out. His augmented eyes adjusted to the low light just as the eyes of a nocturnal predator would, but he didn't need any enhanced vision to see. The alley opened to a street that ran into a main square in front of the cathedral. The giant religious edifice rose triumphantly above all of the surrounding buildings. Though he was about one hundred metres from the cathedral, the signs of heresy were unmistakable.
A large fountain in front of the cathedral was lit up, shining lights on a statue of Saint Harman, who
appeared as an elderly monk, having devoted every waking breath to his devotion to the Emperor. Someone had chipped the face off the statue, leaving it to appear as an empty robe, and instead of clean water, the fountain was filled with blood. Just looking at the building, Tor felt something was very wrong, as if the beast within him could sense the unnatural events that the scouts had assured him were happening there.
A faint greenish light appeared for a moment from the cathedral's front windows. There could be no question in Tor's mind. It was time to set matters right and defeat the enemy.
'Let's move around the perimeter of the square, keep to as much cover as possible and make your way to the left side of the cathedral. We may be able to find an entrance besides the front,' he said.
Like true wolves of Fenris, the Grey Hunters stalked through the shadows and made their way along the edge of the square. If they were detected, the enemy gave no sign. Twice more, the greenish glow came from the cathedral.
The pack reached the outer wall of the cathedral and made its way around the side of the building. A modest door rested in an alcove on the side of the titanic structure, and a carved image of Saint Harman stood untouched over the door. The Emperor protects.’ said Tor.
As Tor paused to reflect on the Emperor, he caught a faint scent from behind the door, the smell of sulphur and oils. It instantly made him think of the Chaos Marines from the previous day. Waving his men away, he readied his bolter.
He gave the door a hard kick, smashing it inwards and then whirled away.
A Night Lord blasted gouts of flame out of the door. In his ornate armour, the light of the flame reflected and burned all the brighter. The Traitor Marine advanced without a word, his flamer held ready to incinerate his target.
Tor had avoided the worst of the blast. He threw himself into the passage with no cover, trusting that his power armour and natural speed would provide enough protection. He activated his power sword, sending energy cascading from the hilt, without losing a step of his charge. Before the Night Lord could raise his weapon to fire again, the power sword sliced through the barrel. Tor jammed the blade into his foe, piercing his power armour and leaving him thrashing on the end of the sword. With a solid jerk, he pulled the weapon free and led his men up a staircase, and he hoped, into the main sanctuary.
Ragnar led the Blood Claws up a battered flight of stairs as they raced to the upper floors of the building used by the Night Lords to fire down on the street. Ragnar took the stairs three at a time. He looked forward to running a few traitors through with his runeblade. A door at the top of the stairs marked this as the fifth floor of the building dedicated to the memory of the scribe Leonardus.
The door fell forwards and the servants of Chaos threw grenades down at the Space Wolves. Ragnar could see two of his foes, both Night Lords. They were tall warriors, even for Space Marines, made taller still
by large horns jutting from their helms. 'Grenade!' shouted Ragnar as he continued forwards. The sudden attack had momentarily surprised Ragnar and all he could do was keep charging.
The first Night Lord drew a chainsword and interposed himself on the stairs in front of Ragnar. He showed no fear and no hesitation. With his off-hand, he ripped a large pouch off his belt and threw it at the Wolf Lord. This time Ragnar was ready, lashing out at the makeshift missile with his runeblade, and slashing open the pouch to reveal the bloodied helm of a Space Wolf.
'Look upon your fate, dog of the Emperor,' the Night Lord snarled then thrust at Ragnar with his whirring chainsword. Ragnar regained his wits and parried the blade with his own.
Behind him, the other Night Lord readied his bolter, looking for a clean shot at Ragnar.
These were worthy foes, thought Ragnar. In a moment, they had seized the initiative and blocked the stairs, enabling them to fight the Space Wolves one at a time, while the rest of their squad made ready for battle or made their escape. He decided that he had had enough of the Night Lords.
With a sweep of his blade and a howl, the Wolf Lord slashed through the chainsword, rendering it useless, and then raised his bolter to the helm of the Night Lord and squeezed the trigger. Round after round impacted the head of the Chaos Space Marine, blowing large holes in his skull.
Ragnar wasted no time, tossing the body of the first Night Lord aside. The second one mercilessly opened
ар on the Space Wolf with a torrent of bolter rounds. Ragnar growled and threw himself into the enemy. He :ook the large man off his feet, and then sat up to give nimself enough room to plunge the runeblade into the Chaos Marine's gut.
The Night Lord glared at Ragnar even as he lay dying. Ragnar could feel the anger and disgust this traitor held in his heart for the Imperium, a hatred so great that he had sold his soul to Chaos. The Night Lord writhed, but reached for the grenades on his belt. Ragnar saw the move and pinned his foe's wrist to the ground with the barrel of his bolter and then pulled the trigger, blowing his foe's hand off.
With his final chance to kill the Wolf Lord gone, the light in the Night Lord's eyeplates dimmed, and his ghost left him, taking his hatred with it.
The Blood Claws rushed up around Ragnar and into a long corridor. Ragnar's men seemed relatively unscathed from the grenade attack. 'Find any more of them that you can, each of these foes costs the enemy dearly'
Soon, the Night Lords would try something desperate. Ragnar could hear distant artillery echo from outside. He hadn't ordered artillery bombardment. If anything, Ragnar was hoping to keep the city as intact as possible. If the forces of Chaos had any artillery, then it would be precious indeed.