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backhanded her lightly across the face； cracking her cheekbone and loosening teeth； saying； 'You will never touch these weapons；
human。'
Bitterness rose with her tears and she cursed herself for wanting to live； for serving this creature of evil； but she could see no other
way。 She was powerless to do anything except play house…pet to a madman who bathed in gore and revelled in slaughter。
Is that so bad？ To take pleasure from the death of another… is that not the highest honour you can pay another creature？
Her hate for Kroeger was a bright flame burning in her heart and she felt that if she did not let it out it would eventually consume
her。
Yes； hate； little one； hate…
Her eyes were once again drawn to the armour and she swore she could almost hear distant laughter。
FIRST LIGHT WAS breaking across the mountains as Honsou watched the slave gangs haul the last components of an artillery
piece's gun carriage over the lip of the promontory。 He noted with satisfaction that there were a few slaves with the blue jackets of
the enemy within their numbers。 It seemed as though there were a few yet able to serve the Iron Warriors。
Forrix stood beside him； a head higher in his Terminator armour； surveying the slow progress below on the plain。 Between the
booming explosions of artillery fire from the two bastions and the central ravelin； the saps were advancing from the extended
parallel； but they were doing so cautiously； moving forward under the protection of heavily armoured sap…rollers； low； widebodied
behemoths crawling slowly forwards to shield the workers who dug the saps。
'The Warsmith is displeased；' said Forrix； sweeping his arms out to encompass the works below。
Honsou turned to face the pale veteran； his brow wrinkled in puzzlement。 'But we have proceeded with great speed； Forrix。 In less
than two weeks we have captured this outwork and our saps are almost close enough to the citadel that we can link them into a
second parallel。 Scarcely have I seen a siege progress with such haste。'
Forrix shook his head。 'There are matters afoot that require we make even better speed； Honsou。 The Warsmith wishes us to be
done with this place within ten days。'
'Impossible！' sputtered Honsou。 'With the second parallel not yet complete？ The batteries here will take another four days at least
to prepare； and it will probably take several days for them to effect a breach in the walls。 And I do not believe we will be able to
make a practicable breach without the establishment of a third parallel and bringing up our siege tanks。 All this will take time； you
know that better than anyone。'
'Nevertheless； it must be done。'
'How？'
'By any means necessary； Honsou。 Time is a luxury we do not have。'
'Then what do you suggest？'
'That we push the saps forwards with greater speed； build more sap rollers； throw slaves and men at the digging； so that the
mounds of corpses will shield the diggers from the Imperial artillery；' snapped Forrix suddenly。
'That will be difficult； Forrix；' said Honsou slowly。 'The Imperial gunners are proving to be uncannily accurate with their fire。'
'Indeed they are；' mused Forrix； staring at the mountains surrounding the plains。 'Almost too accurate； wouldn't you say？'
'What do you mean？'
'You are sure you killed everyone in the places you attacked before the invasion？'
'Aye；' snarled Honsou； 'We left nothing alive。'
Forrix returned his gaze to the mountains and sighed。
'I think you are mistaken； Honsou。 I believe there is still someone out there。'
Honsou said nothing and Forrix continued。 'Send Goran Delau back to the places you attacked and if there are any signs of
survivors； have them hunted down and killed。 We cannot afford to be slowed further by your incompetence。'
Honsou bit back an angry retort and simply nodded stiffly before marching away。
THE HEART WAS a notoriously hard organ to burn； but the blue flames curling from its roasting muscle tissue were well worth the
effort thought Jharek Kelmaur； sorcerer to the Warsmith and Wielder of the Seven Cryptical Magicks。 The darkness of his tent
was wreathed in ghostly shadows cast by the burning heart and moonlight pooling at its entrance。 He rubbed his hands across his
tattooed skull； spreading his arms before the blazing organ。
Though his eyes were sewn shut； he stared into the flames； seeing spectral images； beyond the ken of mortal sight。 They flickered
in and out of focus as his magicks sought to shape the power bestowed by this latest offering into a useable form。 He opened his
mind to the glory of the warp； feeling the rush of power and fulfilment that came each time he communed with the immaterium。
As always he felt the scratching； insistent presence of innumerable astral beasts that clawed at any intrusion into their realm； their
mindless thrashings drawn by his presence。
Such formless phantoms ； it was the other； mightier creatures that lurked in the haunted depths of
the warp that were of more concern。
He felt the warp…spawned energies flow through him； channelled and intensified by the carven sigils on his gold and silver
armour。 Symbols of ancient geomantic significance helped contain the powerful energies he drew within his flesh； and though his
physique was enhanced； he knew that the power he was tapping could destroy him in an instant were he to lose control of it。
The power raced along his fragile nerve endings； dispersing throughout his body and a luminescent green fire built behind his
eyes； spilling out from beneath the stitching； and gathering like emerald tears on his cheeks before billowing out in a noxious
cloud of glittering fog。 The fog twisted and spiralled； though no wind disturbed it； coiling from his mouth and eyes before slipping
around his shoulders like a snake。
Questing tendrils of green light slithered from the sorcerer and waved through the air to reach into the flames of the burning heart；
Graham McNeill ？Storm of Iron？
the flames hissing and sputtering with greater ferocity as they consumed it。
Fleeting images flashed before Kelmaur's eyes： the rock of Tor Christo； a hidden chamber in its depths； a disc of bronze that shone
like the sun and； enfolding it all； a slowly spinning cog wheel； its surface cracked and blemished。 As Kelmaur watched； the cog
suddenly erupted with brown； necrotic threads of rust； each one spreading rapidly through its structure until it crumbled to dust。
As quickly as the vision had appeared； it vanished； to be replaced with one of a spear of white light arcing through the darkness；
its brilliance fading as it travelled before it was in turn replaced by a warrior in yellow power armour； his weapons trained directly
at Kelmaur。 As he watched； the warrior turned his weapon towards the sorcerer and pulled the trigger； the barrel exploding in
brilliant light。
Jharek Kelmaur screamed and collapsed to the floor of his tent； blood leaking from every orifice in his head； and pounding pain
thundering against the innards of his skull。
He groggily pushed himself to his feet； steadying himself against the iron tent pole。
He moved unsteadily to a long； cot bed and sat on its edge； rubbing the heels of his palms against his inked temples and taking
deep breaths。 It was the same as before； but with each passing vision； the intensity grew stronger and he knew a crucial time of
confluence was approaching。
He had to divine the meaning of the visions； though he feared he knew the answer to the second apparition。 As the Iron Warriors
had attacked the spaceport； he had sensed a psychic signal reach out from the planet； too quick for him to block； yet surely too
weak to be received by its intended recipients。 But Kelmaur was afraid that others may have heard it； and if they grasped its
significance； might already be on their way to this planet now。 He had not told the Warsmith； and trusted that his master's warcaptains
would be able to complete the destruction of the citadel before whatever aid was coming to Hydra Cordatus arrived。 He
had despatched the battle barge Stonebreaker to the system's distant jump point to lie in wait for any would…be…rescuers； but；
consumed by the nagging suspicion he was already too late； he had since recalled it。
His cabal of acolytes had spoken of mind whispers on the planet that were not theirs； and how this could be was a mystery to
Kelmaur。 It would take great cunning to have evaded detection by the Stonebreaker； but then it wasn't here； was it… ？ The vast
cargo ships that orbited this planet ystical surveyors that would allow them to detect any approaching
enemies。 Had something slipped past while the Stonebreaker had been away？
And if so； where had it gone and what had it done in the intervening time？
Paranoia； his constant companion； held him tight in its grip and his mind was alive with all manner of fearsome possibilities。
Should he tell the Warsmith of his suspicions？ Should he deal with it on his own？ Should he feign ignorance？
None of the options were particularly appealing and Kelmaur was filled with a dreadful foreboding。 As to the first vision… well；
that he was more sure of。 He turned as a low moan sounded behind him。
He smiled grimly； staring into the face of Adept Cycerin。
The former priest of the Adeptus