by Ben Counter, Guy Haley, Joshua Reynolds, Cavan Scott (epub)
‘So,’ said Ulli, ‘Lord Ragnar had made good on his promise of revenge. Many orks lay dead and their leader was among the slain.
‘But then I saw how much we had paid. Of Einar’s Swiftclaw pack, half lay dead, dragged down off their bikes and butchered on the ground. As I watched a Grey Hunter, cut off from his pack, was surrounded, beaten down and torn apart. We had paid for this with Space Wolf lives. And there was worse to come.’
‘Ragnar, we are surrounded,’ I told him. ‘The orks have flooded in behind us and cut us off from the ridge. The Cadians could not hold our flank, we have pushed forwards too far.’
‘Then we fight on, Rune Priest.’ His tone brooked no argument, but I could see the danger we were in.
‘Even Ragnar Blackmane cannot kill them all.’
‘Then we die well.’
‘But what of the people of Alaric Prime?’ I argued. ‘What of all the dead from defeats that would have been victories, had we not died here? For revenge on this day, you have sacrificed our future. Half your Great Company stands here, surrounded by foes we cannot defeat. Was it worth throwing their lives away, to brandish one orkish head?’
Ulrik looked startled by this. ‘You spoke thus to him?’ he asked.
‘I knew I had gone too far,’ said Ulli, shaking his head. ‘It was my duty to follow my Wolf Lord into the jaws of hell, not curse him as a headstrong fool. But I could see nothing then save the bodies of my brother Space Wolves trampled in the mud.’
‘What did Blackmane say in reply?’
‘Nothing…’
He fixed me with a stare that could freeze an ocean. But then the greenskins found heart again. I felt their anger rise to a crescendo, and they charged.
In the shadow of that war machine, I fought back to back with my Space Wolf brothers, and in moments my axe was heavy with gore. The ork bodies piled up into a rampart of the dead. But though we might each kill ten of them, a hundred, eventually they took one of ours.
I saw Brother Halfrad of Gundar’s Grey Hunters pack, his head split open down to the collar by an ork’s cleaver. The Blood Claws howled and counter-charged whenever they opened up enough space, but each time they fell back with one of their number wounded or dead.
I lost sight of Lord Ragnar, so dense was the press of orks around us. Then, above the gunfire and the cries of the wounded, I heard the sound of engines.
Three Stormwolf gunships, wearing the livery of the Great Wolf Logan Grimnar, swooped down from the sky. And leaning from the ramp I saw Grimnar himself, the Axe Morkai in his hand.
‘Blackmane!’ shouted the Great Wolf. ‘I see once more the alpha wolf must drag the headstrong whelp out of trouble! Much as I would love for you to learn your lesson, I cannot let my brothers die out here surrounded. My Wolf Guard will cut a path for you back to our lines. I trust you can show enough sense at least to follow it!’
‘The Great Wolf brought with him three packs of Wolf Guard, Grimnar’s own personal troops in Terminator armour,’ said Ulli, watching the flickering of the firelight. ‘They were amongst the best warriors in our Chapter. Our ranks cheered as they leapt down from their gunships.’
‘And did you cheer as well, Ulli Iceclaw?’ asked Ulrik, curiosity in his voice. ‘Were you as relieved as your battle-brothers?’
The Rune Priest sighed. ‘I do not know, Wolf Priest. True, where we had faced death we now had a chance. But with the certainty of death removed, my thoughts had leave to go elsewhere, and I saw how troubled I was. Ragnar was my Wolf Lord, the Young King of Fenris. We idolised him. Already, my brothers and I had memorised his sagas and sought to emulate the skill and fury he showed in battle. But now, I saw something else in Ragnar Blackmane.’
‘You speak of Blackmane’s rage. The rage that had cost so many lives, and brought a whole Great Company so close to destruction.’
‘My brothers lay dead. The Imperial line was compromised. All that could have been avoided. Had we held our ground, we could have weathered whatever storm the orks threw at us. The cost would have been high, but we would have held. Imperial command had a plan to shatter the army of orks that faced us. Now whatever that plan was, it was in tatters, for we had not played our part. Instead we had followed a leader driven by headstrong anger, and many of us lay butchered in the mud because of it. This mighty lord of Fenris, in whom I had seen the very exemplar of our Chapter, now seemed to me no more than a berserker who would lead us all to a fruitless death.’
‘I have served as Wolf Priest for many years, Ulli. Since before you were ever made a Space Wolf. And in that time my purpose has been to minister to the spiritual needs of my brethren, to watch for the sins of the mind that might lead them down a wayward path. And of those sins, one of the gravest is doubt. What you saw in Blackmane’s conduct planted that doubt in you. That is what I must fight, just as you fought the greenskins.’
Ulli struggled for a moment to find the words. ‘But how can I forget the sight of my battle-brothers torn apart by orkish hands? How can I ignore the despair I felt, to know that we would die there for nothing?’
‘Go on, Ulli Iceclaw,’ urged Ulrik gently. ‘Your tale does not end there.’
Ulli shook his head. ‘No. No it does not.’
Grimnar and his Wolf Guard landed beside us. With a roar of assault cannon and storm bolters, they forced back the first ranks of the orks. The Stormwolves circled overhead, strafing the orks or picking out their war machines with pinpoint fire. Then Grimnar held the Axe Morkai aloft so all could see it.
‘With me, sons of Fenris!’ the Great Wolf roared. ‘We will cut a bloody canyon through this greenskin flesh!’
‘Fight beside me, Ulli!’ laughed Ragnar. ‘The rune you placed on my blade still burns bright. It will take plenty more ork blood to douse that fire.’
And so I fought. I had lost count of the orks I had killed, though they numbered a pittance compared to Blackmane’s tally. We forged through the ork ranks, following the bloody wake of Grimnar and the Wolf Guard.
Even as the greenskins reeled, I saw one of the Wolf Guard fall. He was pulled down by a mass of orks who used crude cutting torches to carve his armour apart. One of our finest, lost to the Chapter because Ragnar Blackmane had given in to his rage.
We were within sight of the Imperial line. The Cadians had suffered badly and their fortifications were aflame, but they were still manned. The remains of the Scorched Knight still burned. We were close. I let the hope kindle in my hearts that we would survive this. But this battle was not over.
A great shadow passed over us. I looked up to see an enormous war machine flying above us in a mockery of logic. From its hull hung hundreds of gibbets, each containing an Imperial Guard prisoner, stripped of his wargear, bleeding and left there to die for the amusement of the orks. Its gun turrets blazed and our Stormwolves had to back away or be blasted from the sky.
‘What you saw was called the Skygouger,’ said Ulrik. ‘It had led attacks on Imperial positions since the beginning of the war for Alaric Prime. Already it had gained a reputation like death itself, for wherever it went it left just corpses. Imperial command had tried to track it, but some xenos technology made it invisible to our augurs. It was only seen when the orks wished to inflict punishment on Imperial forces, and they summoned it to punish the Space Wolves.’
‘The Skygouger,’ mused Ulli. ‘So that is what they called it. To us it seemed a final insult. That orks can even build something that flies is obscene enough. That it should intercept us just when our line was within sight – that seemed calculated to drain us of hope. Perhaps the timing was deliberate. Perhaps the orks wanted us to know hope, and then have it snatched away, so we would be weakened in the final moments by despair.’
‘But Space Marines do not know despair,’ said Ulrik.
‘No, Wolf Priest. We do not. But the orks were going to try their best to make us know it…’
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Their assault forces launched from the Skygouger in their dozens. They were jump pack troops in black-painted armour. Where most greenskins fought with wildness and savagery, these were disciplined and ruthless. They fell upon our Grey Hunters and Blood Claws, avoiding the guns and blades of Grimnar’s Wolf Guard.
Cannons on the Skygouger rained fire, forcing our formation apart so the greenskin assault could isolate and butcher us. I saw the Great Wolf surrounded by seven or eight of them, keeping them at bay with great swings of the Axe Morkai. The rest of the orks took heart from the Skygouger’s appearance and they massed once more, ready to swarm and finish us off.
‘No!’ shouted Ragnar. ‘Not now, not when we are so close! It will not end this way, my brothers!’ He gestured to a nearby Space Wolf. ‘You, Skyclaw. You are wounded. Can you fight?’
The young warrior shook his head. His right arm had been crushed and though I knew that he would fight on with his teeth if needs be, the day’s battle was over for him.
‘Then give me your jump pack,’ growled Ragnar.
‘Lord Blackmane, what are you doing?’ I asked.
‘If I am to fall here it will not be in the mud, on my knees. It will be taking the fight to the enemy, as a Space Wolf should!’
‘You will die,’ I told him.
‘Not so, for I will not be alone. There lies another fallen brother. He will not fight any more, but his wargear can still serve. Take his jump pack and follow me. The rune on my blade has grown dull and I have need of a Rune Priest. Your Wolf Lord has spoken, Ulli Iceclaw.’
I buckled on the jump pack. I knew what insanity this was, but my Wolf Lord had spoken.
‘Was that the only reason you followed him?’ asked Ulrik.
Ulli considered the question. ‘In truth, Wolf Priest? I cannot say.’
The Skygouger had drifted low to drop off its troops, low enough for a bound of the jump pack to reach it. Ragnar leapt before me. I barely made it onto the war machine. The hull of the Skygouger was crawling with ork drop troops massing for the next wave. Ragnar dived into them, full of the fury that had caused him to abandon our lines.
I felt, kindling in my heart again, that same fury. I had not thought it possible, for I had seen the cost of such recklessness, but I could not deny it. My mind was full of the battle-brothers who had died that day – the Blood Claws and Grey Hunters slain as the orks surrounded us, the Wolf Guard who had followed Grimnar’s rescue mission, all butchered by greenskin hands. And I wanted what Ragnar wanted. I wanted to kill them all.
He howled and it filled my heart with joy to hear it.
‘What alien eyes are worthy to look on a Space Wolf?’ I growled at an ork who approached with an axe in each hand. ‘Look well, for it is the last thing you will see! This is my Rune Axe, an extension of this psyker’s mind. I hear your kind can fight on with a severed limb. But how can you fight when I sever your soul?’
I brought the blade down and siphoned a portion of my power through it, obliterating the greenskin.
‘That is the fate of all your kind,’ I told its remains. ‘To be turned to red mist and ash!’
‘Well fought, Rune Priest! We must bring this metal beast down.’
Blackmane reached the prow of the Skygouger. He tore the canopy off the cockpit.
The ork pilot barely had time to show surprise before Frostfang took his head. I followed Lord Blackmane inside the hull. The stench was awful, of rotting meat and sweat. Gnawed bones and body parts were everywhere. The Skygouger had taken hundreds of Imperial Guard prisoners and this was where they had died. Stunted versions of the greenskins scurried away at our approach. Orks tried to bar our way but Blackmane was possessed with a rage, and so was I.
‘It is an honour greater than you xenos filth deserve to die on Frostfang’s blade!’
He gave it that honour regardless.
‘We should let one of you live, to tell the other greenskin filth of what happens when you make war on the Space Wolves,’ I laughed at my opponent. ‘But not you.’
I hacked it down and turned to find another, but Ragnar had made short, bloody work of them.
‘Press on, Rune Priest,’ he ordered. ‘We need to find something this hulk cannot fly without.’
But I did not see the shape in the shadows, looming up from the depths of the Skygouger’s hold. It hit me before I could react.
It was an ork, one of their leaders by its size, perhaps even huger than the warlord Ragnar had slain. Around its neck hung a hundred dog tags torn from Guardsmen’s necks. It had taken their medals, too, and wore them on its armoured chest in mockery of the brave men it had killed. On its head was a Cadian officer’s cap, still stained with the blood of the man who had worn it. The ork’s limbs were clad in black steel and each hand was a mechanical claw to tear and crush.
The greenskin howled, as if in mockery of the noble howls of our Chapter, and beckoned Ragnar forward. The Wolf Lord leapt.
Blackmane and the ork commander clashed, and they were matched in strength. In the confines of the Skygouger there was only room to wrestle. In the open, Ragnar’s swordsmanship might have cut the ork to pieces and left him open for the killing blow. But here it was face to face, the claws seeking to grab and crush as the ork’s bulk pinned Blackmane to the ground. My head swam and my body would not respond as I wished. I crawled closer.
‘Ulli,’ Ragnar roared, ‘if this creature bests me, return to the Chapter. Tell them how I died.’
But this time, I did not obey. I placed my hand on the side of Ragnar’s breastplate. I willed there a rune of defiance, of honour and fury, a symbol of the high kings of Fenris from an age remembered only by the stones. I dredged up every drop of will I had. My body was spent, but my mind was still a weapon. And as the claws crushed home, the rune flared bright.
The ork’s claw bit into Ragnar’s armour, and there was a great pulse of energy. The greenskin roared in agony and anger.
‘Fenrisian guile beats xenos brawn,’ growled the Wolf Lord. ‘And Space Wolf steel beats everything!’
Frostfang pierced the greenskin’s heart. I saw the light go out in its eyes. I felt the rage-filled fires of its life extinguished as it fell to the deck. Ragnar paused to help me to my feet, and rampaged on through the carrier.
The greenskins were dismayed to see their commander fall and they fled before us as Lord Blackmane tore engines and fuel lines apart. I felt the Skygouger lurch.
‘Come, Rune Priest. It is time to leave,’ said Ragnar.
As we leapt from the carrier and our jump packs slowed our descent, I watched the Skygouger falling in flames. It crashed into the heart of the orks.
I saw a thousand of them die in the storm of flame and wreckage that followed.
The orks fled from us. The Great Wolf led the way back to the Imperial lines, with Lord Ragnar fighting by his side. When we reached our positions on the ridge, I saw the Cadians rejoicing that the Skygouger had fallen and the orks had been so thoroughly beaten.
‘But you did not rejoice, Ulli Iceclaw,’ said Ulrik, looking intently at the Rune Priest. ‘Though your battle-brothers cheered the deaths of so many greenskins, I see no joy in your face.’
‘No, Wolf Priest. I thought only of my brothers who had fallen, and of how the rage of Ragnar Blackmane was scarcely less responsible for their deaths than the greenskins.’
‘But you do not have the perspective of a Wolf Priest. You saw Ragnar’s rage bring the Space Wolves to the edge of defeat. But what did you see when Ragnar boarded the Skygouger? You felt that same rage then, and you saw what it did to the enemy. Do you think anyone else could have brought down the Skygouger? It was Ragnar’s rage that made it possible. That anger cost us many lives, but it also brought us a victory where nothing else could have.’
Ulli considered this. ‘Then it is no surprise for you to hear of what his rage can do.�
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Ulrik shook his head slowly. ‘It is not. Long ago, we looked on the young Ragnar Blackmane, promoted to the Wolf Guard directly from the Blood Claws, an unheard-of feat. We knew what would happen if he ever rose to the position of Wolf Lord, of how many of our brothers would pay for his anger with their lives. But we also saw how many victories it would bring us, how many enemies would fall before it who would otherwise survive. And we decided the price of his recklessness was worth the victories it would bring us.’
There was a long silence broken only by the crackling of the fire.
‘I see,’ said Ulli at last. ‘I have but one question for you, Ulrik, if I may.’
‘Speak on, Rune Priest.’
‘You say the Wolf Priests made a decision on Ragnar’s fitness to serve as a Wolf Lord. But if the cost became too high, if the Chapter suffers too greatly from his rages... could that decision be reversed?’
Klaxons sounded from outside and Ulrik looked up.
‘The orks are charging again,’ he said. ‘Look fast, Rune Priest. We need all battle-brothers on the line.’
The question went unanswered. Ulli thought he might be glad of that.
Outside, Ulli watched Ragnar Blackmane as he addressed the warriors of his Great Company.
‘Sons of Fenris,’ the Young Wolf began. ‘The orks will not stop until this world is barren and despoiled. But when the smoke has cleared and the blood soaked into the earth, it is the Space Wolves who will be standing atop a mountain of orkish dead!’
He howled, and his Wolves howled with him.
about the authors
Ben Counter is the author of the Imperial Fists sagas Malodrax, Seventh Retribution and Endeavour of Will. He has also written the Horus Heresy novels Galaxy in Flames and Battle for the Abyss, along with Warhammer 40,000 series featuring the Soul Drinkers and Grey Knights. He is a fanatical painter of miniatures, a pursuit which has won him his most prized possession: a prestigious Golden Demon award. He lives in Portsmouth, England.