Sons of Corax

by George Mann

  Koryn became aware of a low, monotonous sound coming from somewhere nearby. It was a voice, mumbling something he couldn’t quite distinguish against the cacophonous noise of the battle. He glanced down and saw the head, neck and shoulders of a plaguebearer, dragging itself along the blood-soaked earth, still reeling off whatever terrible litany formed on its gibbering lips. The rest of its stinking body was absent: ripped away, Koryn guessed, by the attentions of an autocannon. He stepped forwards, jabbing down with his lightning talons to pierce its skull and fry whatever passed for its hateful brain. The remnants of its torso quivered and spasmed for a moment, and then lay still.

  As Koryn was extracting his claws a moment later, the vox-bead in his ear crackled to life. ‘Captain, the target has been located.’

  ‘Acknowledged, Corvaan. State your position,’ he replied.

  ‘Towards the barricade, captain,’ said Corvaan, ‘Close to the wreckage of a Land Raider.’

  ‘Very good,’ said Koryn, searching the vicinity for a sign of the location that Corvaan had described. He caught sight of it a moment later, no more than a few hundred metres away. He broke into a run, folding himself into the shadows as he manoeuvered through the desperate fighting, ducking and weaving his way through the massed ranks of the enemy, through the scattered squads of Brazen Minotaurs, before vaulting up and over the barricade to land, perfectly still, before his Tauronic counterpart. His brothers closed in around him, as if coalescing from the unnatural darkness to form a wall of ravens.

  Daed turned to face him, lowering his axe until its head was resting upon the ground. He slid his bolt pistol into his holster. ‘Bast – keep watch while I speak with our visitor.’

  Koryn knew that he must present a peculiar sight to the Space Marine before him: an ebon-clad warrior in ancient artificer armour that bore the names of all those who had worn it before him and died in its embrace, with corvia dangling in fat bunches from his belt and twin, sparking lightning talons at his side. Only a Raven Guard could understand the significance, the beauty and honour of such a thing.

  For his part, Daed was like a golden giant, at least half a metre taller than Koryn, his gleaming armour splashed with crimson gore. The thick, black pelt of a Tauronic lion was draped upon his broad shoulders and ribbons and fragments of tattered parchments clung resolutely to his leg braces, honorific records of past victories and triumphs. His left vambrace was damaged where he had clearly taken a bolter round in his forearm, but the wound did not appear to be troubling him. He was an imposing figure, even for a Space Marine.

  ‘You are welcome, Raven Guard,’ he said, his voice deep and steady like the rumble of an engine. ‘Most welcome indeed.’ He showed no outward sign of surprise at the sudden appearance of Koryn and his squad, but there was a definite note of relief in his voice. Koryn couldn’t help but wonder if he had somehow been expecting them.

  The Brazen Minotaur stepped forwards and clasped Koryn’s pauldron. ‘It is good to see you, Captain Koryn. Your intervention here on Fortane’s World is timely.’

  ‘Thank you, Captain Daed. We have come to assist you in your hour of need, as you once assisted us.’

  ‘How many are you?’

  ‘Nine,’ said Koryn.

  ‘Nine squads. Nearly a full company. Where have they deployed?’

  Koryn shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, slowly. ‘Nine.’

  ‘Nine…’ repeated Daed, incredulous. ‘Nine Raven Guard is all that you have to offer?’ His sudden alteration in tone spoke of his dismay. ‘Then the battle is lost. We cannot possibly hope to breach the bastion walls in the face of such overwhelming numbers.’

  Koryn smiled grimly. ‘Nine Raven Guard is all that shall be required,’ he replied, coolly. ‘This battle shall be won with cunning and not by weight of numbers.’

  Koryn could hear the scepticism in Daed’s response. ‘Two entire companies of Brazen Minotaurs have not been able to breach those bastion walls. What makes you think that nine Raven Guard will make any difference?’

  Cordae stepped up beside Koryn, his totemic paraphernalia jangling as he levelled his crozius at Daed’s chest. Koryn saw Daed bristle, his stance subtly altering as he prepared to defend himself if the bird-faced Chaplain suddenly decided to strike him with his arcane weapon. ‘With respect, captain, this battle is already lost. Your siege has failed. Your golden battering ram has proved itself to be a blunt instrument in the face of overwhelming odds. Sometimes a blunt instrument is necessary and effective. Sometimes a more subtle approach is needed. It is time to admit that now is one of those times.’

  ‘Stand down, Chaplain,’ said Koryn, the warning clear in his voice.

  Cordae turned to face him, the beak of his skull mask hovering only a few centimetres from Koryn’s own helm. ‘Yes, captain,’ he said, ‘but remember that we are here to do our duty, and not to placate our allies. There is a job to be done.’

  ‘Cordae!’ barked Koryn. ‘You have said enough.’

  Koryn glanced at Daed, but it was impossible to read his expression beneath his helm. ‘You understand, Captain Daed, that our ways are different from your own,’ he said, in a conciliatory tone. ‘What my brother means to say is that we feel a change of strategy may help to resolve the deadlock with which we are faced. I have spoken to Theseon–’

  ‘Theseon!’ thundered Daed. ‘Then he lives?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking, captain.’

  ‘You’ve seen him? Where?’

  ‘The ruined outpost,’ replied Koryn. ‘He is waking, slowly, from his mental fugue. He does not yet have control of his body, and he is weak. Has Aramus not informed you of this?’

  ‘Our lines of communication were severed. The damn mist…’ Daed trailed off, lost in thought. ‘You said you’d spoken with him?’

  ‘Yes. And he requested the help of the Raven Guard. He spoke of Empalion II…’ Koryn paused to allow his words to sink in, ‘And the grave debt that is owed to you.’ He heard Cordae scoff behind him.

  ‘A debt you repaid, Raven Guard, on Kasharat,’ replied Daed. ‘Yet I have not forgotten what happened on that day. The losses were grave indeed. My Chapter has yet to recover.’ Daed fixed Koryn with a hard stare. ‘And now you ask me to do it again? To stand aside and watch your backs while you sneak amongst the shadows. To ask my brothers to give over their lives so that nine of you might have a chance to live. I cannot do it.’

  Koryn stepped forwards. ‘If there was another way…’ he said.

  ‘There is another way. Stand by my side on the field of battle. Lend me your arms, your strength. Fight with me in open combat, die standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me in the name of the Emperor.’

  Koryn shook his head. ‘There is honour in what you say, brother,’ he replied. ‘And one day I hope to die an honourable death on the field of battle. But today is not that day. The bastion must fall. It must. No matter how many of those damnable traitors we slay, it will not be enough unless Fortane’s World is regained. You must see that we have no choice. One way or another, we need to get behind those walls. The weapon emplacements must be opened.’

  Daed turned and hefted his axe above his head, slamming it down against the barricade in frustration, eliciting a shower of sparks and causing the heaped wreckage to shift and groan in protest.

  ‘This is no longer about repaying a debt of honour, captain. It is about winning a war,’ said Koryn, quietly. When Daed didn’t respond, Koryn allowed the silence to stretch. After a moment the Brazen Minotaur turned to him, leaving his axe head buried in the ceramite and plasteel structure.

  ‘What is it you are proposing, Raven Guard?’ he said, in a low, suspicious growl.

  ‘That we blow a hole in those plascrete skirts, captain,’ replied Koryn, allowing an unseen smile to creep upon his face, ‘And scare the daemons out.’

  ‘I’ve told you already – we’ve tried. We cannot get
close enough to the bastion walls to bring our heavy weapons to bear, and even then, it’s thick enough to withstand all but the most powerful of munitions,’ replied Daed.

  ‘I take it you have explosives?’ said Koryn, ignoring Daed’s point. It was entirely irrelevant: the Brazen Minotaurs might not have been able to batter a path through the enemy to the bastion walls, but the Raven Guard did not need a path. Koryn and his brothers would simply disappear; they would walk unseen amongst the enemy until they reached their target.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Daed. ‘Much good as it will do us from here.’

  ‘The Raven Guard will place the charges against the wall. We can move behind the enemy lines unseen. If you trust us, captain, we will breach the bastion. We will crack it wide open.’

  ‘And then?’ asked Daed, sceptically.

  ‘And then, whilst the enemy are occupied defending the hole in their defences from your assault, we will steal inside the bastion itself through a second, smaller breach and locate the control room. We will open the gun emplacements and allow the Navy to blow the entire place apart from inside.’

  Daed sighed. ‘When – if – you succeed in blowing this hole in the walls, you’re asking me to commit the entire Brazen Minotaurs contingent to attacking whatever it is that spills out?’

  ‘It’s the only way, captain. If the enemy are distracted they won’t notice the second explosion, and they won’t be looking for us. We have the advantage – they do not know the Raven Guard are here on Fortane’s World. They’ll expect you to attack through the gap created by the main blast. They’ll throw everything they have at stopping you. Meanwhile, we’ll come around the other side and open their defences. They’ll be a sitting target from orbit.’ Koryn glanced at his squad, who were gathered behind him, listening intently to the exchange.

  ‘It’s a suicide mission,’ said Daed, bitterly.

  ‘For both of us,’ replied Koryn, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. ‘Once the gun ports are open and the Navy ships begin their barrage, we’ll be trapped inside.’ Koryn sighed. ‘We must do our duty,’ he said, glancing away over the top of the barricade at the stuttering lights of the battle. ‘We must sacrifice ourselves for the benefit of a billion souls. Is that not our purpose?’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ said Daed, turning to reclaim his axe from where it was still buried in the crumpled metal blockade. ‘And so is your Chaplain, much as it pains me to admit it. We are losing this battle. And we will do our duty. But know this, Raven Guard: where you sacrifice nine, we sacrifice one hundred, in a war that has already taken a hundred of our brothers. Regardless, we will do as you say. We will hold the line as the enemy spews forth from its hiding place, but we will not do so lightly. Our Chapter will rue this day of loss, and our sacrifice will be recorded in the history of Tauron. Do not fail us. Allow our deaths to be glorious and meaningful. Enable our Chapter’s Librarians to tell tales of how the Third and Fifth Companies gave their lives valiantly, in combat, to ensure their victory over the Chaos hordes. Use the time we buy for you well, and make sure those frigates up there blow these stinking traitors halfway across the spiral arm.’ Daed’s axe, which he had been worrying free as he spoke, finally came loose from the barricade, and he hefted it over his head in a salute that Koryn did not recognise.

  ‘We will,’ said Koryn, firmly. ‘We will make it count.’

  Daed lowered his axe. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Bast!’

  ‘Yes, captain,’ replied another of the golden-armoured Space Marines, coming forwards to stand at his captain’s side. Behind him, the chatter of bolter-fire had become a constant, background hum.

  ‘Show our brothers where they will find our stock of explosives, Bast,’ said Daed, and Koryn could tell that he was grinning, despite himself, ‘They’re going to give us some fireworks.’

  ‘Yes, captain,’ said Bast, clipping his bolter to his belt and gesturing for the Raven Guard to follow him. ‘This way.’

  Koryn signalled to the others, and watched as they followed Bast towards one of the Brazen Minotaurs’ autocannon emplacements. After they had gone, he went to stand beside Daed at the barricade, surveying the killing field before them.

  ‘It will be an honourable death,’ said Daed, quietly, without turning to look at him.

  ‘Yes,’ said Koryn, without irony. ‘Yes, it will.’

  They moved like wraiths, ebony ghosts drifting amongst the dying and the dead. If the enemy saw them pass it was only as a fleeting glimpse of living shadow, the ghost of movement, or else the prickle of hairs on the backs of their necks to warn them that death was hovering nearby.

  Koryn killed scores of them as his talons flashed out of the shadows, cutting them down before they had even realised what was happening, lopping off their heads or spilling their steaming viscera upon their boots.

  Belching war machines spat gobbets of noxious mucus at the massed ranks of the Brazen Minotaurs, and stomping, twisted things that had once, perhaps, been Dreadnoughts stalked across the heaped corpses of the dead, their weapons blazing as they cut down everything around them, Space Marines and human militia alike.

  Koryn and the Raven Guard ignored all of this as they weaved their way towards the bastion walls, dancing elegantly past leagues of the walking dead, past Plague Marines and moaning daemonkin. The mission was everything. It consumed them. They killed only where the opportunity presented itself or the enemy blocked their path. No protracted battles, no retribution.

  Each of them carried enough charges that any five of them would be sufficient to blow open the bastion wall. If some of them were lost on the field of battle, the mission would not, therefore, be compromised.

  There would be two simultaneous explosions. The first would be the larger of the two and would crack open the wall at its weakest point, blowing an opening just big enough that the Chaos troops would be forced to concentrate around it in order to prevent the Brazen Minotaurs forcing their way inside. The second would be no larger than Koryn himself, and would, he hoped, go relatively unnoticed as the enemy swarmed to defend the main breach. It was through this second hole that the Raven Guard would find their way into the fortress and to the control room where they could override the carapace defences and allow the Navy to do its work.

  Cordae led the second team, while Koryn ran alongside Kayae, Grayvus, Avias and Argis. Koryn’s squad would place the charges for the main attack, and then rendezvous with the others amidst the ensuing chaos.

  Then their mission would truly begin, and so would that of the Brazen Minotaurs.

  The immense, sloping wall of the bastion hove into view. Koryn slid to a halt against the towering plascrete barrier, churning sodden mud in a long furrow. The stench of decay this close to the enemy stronghold was nearly overbearing, despite the air scrubbers in his respirator, and Koryn grimaced, trying not to imagine what the festering mulch beneath his boots had once been.

  He dropped into a crouch, keeping to the shadows as his brothers came to rest around him. All four of them were accounted for. Their passage across the battlefield had gone unremarked by the enemy – or at least those that were still standing.

  Planting the charges proved simplicity itself. The Chaos troops were entirely focused on the battle ahead of them and gave little thought to any possible threat from behind their own ranks: it was inconceivable that the bastion could be about to crumble.

  The five Raven Guard scaled the sloping wall like so many crawling insects, their ebon armour seeming to absorb even the muted light of the nearby flames that licked at the ruins of a Rhino, or the muzzle flare from the autocannons overhead, chattering away relentlessly across the nightmare landscape behind them.

  ‘Set them to detonate in sixty seconds,’ ordered Koryn, jamming the last of his charges into a pitted crater in the plascrete and sliding back down to join the others.

  ‘Sixty seconds?’ said
Argis, sceptically. ‘It’s going to kick out quite a blast.’

  ‘Sixty seconds will be ample time to get clear,’ said Koryn, firmly. ‘Cordae?’ he said over the vox. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes, captain,’ replied the Chaplain. ‘We’re ready.’

  ‘Then activate and get clear,’ he said. He saw Argis trigger the remote detonator, casting it away and turning to run. He followed suit, charging for the cover of the downed enemy Rhino, his hearts hammering violently in his chest.

  Time seemed to slow. For a moment Koryn thought nothing was going to happen, that somehow the detonator – and their mission – had failed. Then he was pitched forwards with the force of the explosion, scrabbling and sliding behind the flaming tank as the rumble of collapsing masonry filled the air, becoming the only sound for kilometres in every direction.

  He listened for the crump of a second explosion, but heard nothing beyond the grinding roar of rending plascrete as a section of the wall collapsed. He caught his breath, peering hesitantly over the lip of the Rhino.

  The gaping hole was immense – far bigger than Koryn had been expecting – with oily smoke and pale dust billowing out, filling the air and obscuring the view. The plascrete around the blast site was blackened and jagged, and Koryn could see where the rubble had spilled out like a grey waterfall, suddenly frozen mid-flow.

  Around him, silence had stolen over the battlefield as combatants from both sides were momentarily distracted by the sudden detonation and resulting collapse of a section of the wall.