Steele’s response to this was short and succinct； but it effectively conveyed his thoughts on the
question of taking orders from a heretic。
The heretic in question made to lash out with his gun butt； but one of his fellows stayed his
hand。
“You can’t risk it；” he said。 “He’s already damaged goods。 You could break his skull； spill his
brains out onto the street； and what would he say then？”
Steele smiled tightly to himself。 The traitors had confirmed what he had already guessed； that
their leader in Iota Hive wanted him alive。 Most likely； Mangellan intended to question him about
his comrades： their numbers； their plans and their current whereabouts。 Not that it would do him any
good。
They had taken Steele’s weapons； his field rucksack； even his fur hat。 They had turned out his
pockets。 They thought he was helpless。 They were wrong。
Steele’s greatest weapons were inside him。 His mechanical shoulder was still in working order；
and his bionic eye had almost completed its repair cycle。 He could see with it now； albeit through a
faint blur。 He could call up its HUD； which told him that the eye would be fully functional in just
fifty…eight minutes’ time。
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In the meantime； the traitors were doing him a favour。 A prisoner he may have been； for now —
but they were taking him just where he wanted to go。
They were taking him to the Ice Palace… to Confessor Wollkenden。
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Time to Destruction of Cressida： 14。33。04
They were sitting ducks。
Gavotski cursed himself for having trusted the redheaded woman when she had called to him
and Blonsky out in the street。 He had followed his instincts about her； not stopping to interrogate her
further despite his comrade’s misgivings。 But then the Traitor Guard had been so close on their
heels； and his instincts had never steered him wrong before。
His instincts were telling him something now。
The chapel was filled with the retorts of lasguns。 They echoed from the vaulted ceiling to return
to their wielders’ ears with deafening force。 But the only guns being fired belonged to the Ice
Warriors。 The mutants were not fighting back； few of them were even armed。 They were cowering；
whimpering behind stone columns and the remains of splintered pews； behind the altar itself。
“Cease fire！” yelled Gavotski over the clamour。 “I said cease fire； that’s an order！”
Grayle was the first to obey； although he turned to his sergeant with a puzzled frown。 Pozhar
looked like he was a second away from mutiny； while Blonsky…
Blonsky didn’t exactly aim his gun at Gavotski — he held it at a downward angle； pointed at the
floor between them — but the muscles in his arms were tensed； ready； as his black eyes searched
and probed。
“With respect； sergeant；” he said； “may I ask the reason for that order？”
“Look at them！” said Gavotski。 “Does this look like an ambush to you？ No one has attacked us。
They’ve done nothing but defend themselves。”
“They are mutants；” spat Blonsky。 “Their existence is offence enough！”
Gavotski returned his glare evenly。 He wasn’t about to be intimidated。 “Ordinarily； yes；” he said；
“but these are extraordinary circumstances。 I don’t think our guides lied to us。 These… these
‘people’ have information we can use。 They have ways into the Ice Palace and knowledge of
Mangellan’s capabilities。”
“In the circumstances； sergeant；” said Blonsky； “I think it is my duty to ask if you’re protecting
these abominations because of some misguided sympathy with them？ Can you swear that you are
still loyal to the God…Emperor？”
Gavotski hit him with the butt of his lasgun。 He hit him so hard and so fast that； even though
Blonsky had been watching for such a move； he was taken by surprise and floored。
“When you can prove an accusation like that；” growled Gavotski； standing over him； “then I
expect you to shoot me dead。 Until then； you will keep your mouth shut and do as I tell you。 Is that
understood； trooper？”
“They were praying；” said Pozhar in a small voice。 “They were praying to the Emperor。” The
resentment had drained from him； and he looked confused； even afraid。 Gavotski hadn’t expected
that。 He had expected Pozhar to disapprove of his decision as vociferously as Blonsky had。
And the mutants — the human…looking mutants — were picking themselves up； re…emerging
from their hiding places； and closing in around the Ice Warriors； emboldened by their inaction。
Gavotski brought up his gun； and focused it on the nearest of them。
“That’s far enough！” he snapped； and the mutant came to a halt； raised its hands。
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“We understand your… suspicions； blame you for being… repulsed。” The voice was a
lumbering baritone； and it came from behind Gavotski。 He turned； and felt his throat tightening。 The
speaker stepped out of the shadows： a shambling monster with grey fur； its fingers twisted into
claws； its eyes a burning red； its brow unnaturally pronounced。 “We repulse ourselves；” it said； “but
none of us… chose this。 Didn’t want to be this way。 Chaos； so… so strong… in the water； the air…
It has taken a hold of… our bodies。” He swallowed painfully。
Gavotski remembered what Tollenberg had said。
“But you’re fighting it； fighting to keep your minds pure。”
“If you are so loyal；” grumbled Blonsky； massaging his jaw as he climbed to his feet； “then you
know your duty。 The Emperor’s edict on impurities is clear。 There is only one way you can be
purged。”
“And we know we must… die；” the mutant said； “but want it to be for a… purpose。 We want
to… want to strike against the heretics。 They did this to us。 They did this to our… world； to
Cressida。” It was having trouble breathing； and it broke off its speech as it groaned and wheezed；
sucking air into its lungs。
“You knew we were coming！” Grayle realised。 “You sent out spies； into the mountains and the
forest。 I saw one of them。 You’ve been watching us！”
“Just… sorry；” said the mutant； “we could not approach sooner… before the sniper on the lake；
before you lost your… comrade at the landing site… before the Traitor Guardsmen… Had to choose
our moment carefully； as you will… as you will appreciate。 So hard； these days； to know who can
be… trusted。”
Gavotski followed the mutant’s sorrowful gaze； down to the floor； to the body of the Ice
Warriors’ erstwhile guides； and to the others — six of them — cut down before he had called for his
ceasefire。
“We can’t save your world；” he said quietly。 “That’s not what we’re here for。 But with your
help； we can save one man。 An important man。”
“Then we will give… what help we can；” the mutant promised。 “We will fight in the
Emperor’s… service； and pray that； when we reach the afterlife； He will… look upon our tainted
souls with… with understanding。”
The Ice Palace was as huge as Grayle had described。 It rose up high above Steele — higher than he
could see； held as he was。
He was starting to get his strength back； though he was concealing this fact from his captors；
letting them half…carry him； letting them think him still weak。
The traitors bustled him down a stone staircase； flight after flight — all the way down； he
guessed； to the next hive level。 As they stepped out into another street； as the traitors repositioned
their grips on him； Steele was let go for a second and he feigned a collapse； taking the chance to
steal a glance upwards。
He saw grand towers and turrets； and the broad undersides of bridges of ice。
The air was more than cold； it was like invisible daggers were being driven through his bones。
Steele rued the damage done to his greatcoat； though he suspected that even it would not have
afforded him a great deal of protection。 He knew cold； natural cold； and he knew that this was
something different。 The traitors； in contrast； seemed perfectly comfortable in their flak jackets。
They were taking him to an archway in the base of the palace’s front wall。 As they drew closer
to it； the white surface took on a translucent quality； and Steele could see faint veins of the familiar
purple fungus crazing through it。
The archway was protected by four Traitor Guardsmen — and by a heavy portcullis； this too
formed from the ice。 Steele remembered Barreski’s confident words in the forest： “Just give me a
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couple of flamers； and I guarantee you there’ll be nothing left standing here in ten minutes。” If only
it could be so easy。
On his way here； Steele had seen at least two hundred more traitors； many of them attaching
themselves to his entourage as it passed； basking in their fellows’ victory。 His comrades； he
accepted now； hadn’t a hope of beating those odds； of making it here。 At best； they could keep some
of the traitors occupied outside the palace。
The rest； he feared； was up to him。
Pozhar had never felt less comfortable。
The mutants had offered him and his three comrades seats； which they had accepted； and food；
which they hadn’t。 Gavotski had suggested that Grayle and Pozhar get some sleep while they could；
while he and Blonsky kept watch。 Grayle had nodded off with his chin on his chest； but Pozhar
couldn’t rest。
Most of the mutants stayed well away from their guests； in deference to their sensibilities； or
perhaps just in fear of arousing their wrath again。 However； the most mutated of them； the one that
had spoken to them earlier； now shuffled over to them； and announced that it had bad news。
“Your commander has been… captured；” it wheezed。 “He fought… well； but was outclassed by
a… a Traitor Space Marine。 However； we have found your… remaining four comrades… bringing
them here。”
Since Tollenberg； none of the mutants had introduced themselves by name。 Pozhar wondered if
they had names any more。 Perhaps they considered themselves unworthy； had come to think of
themselves； as he would once have thought of them—as he still thought of them—as mere monsters。
“Colonel Steele isn’t dead？” asked Gavotski。
“They are taking him to… the Ice Palace；” said the mutant； “to Mangellan。”
“Then we can still save him；” said Gavotski。 “If you can do as you said； if you can get us into
the palace； we can rescue the colonel and Confessor Wollkenden。 But we have to make our plans
soon。 We have less than fourteen hours。”
The mutant inclined its shaggy head； graciously； and withdrew。
Blonsky watched it go with a shudder。
“They’re fooling themselves；” he muttered； “or lying to us。 If a man’s faith is strong； he can
resist the corruption of Chaos； the Emperor has taught us that。 To have been mutated as these
wretches have—”
“But they’re fighting it！” said Pozhar。
“Too late。” Blonsky turned to Gavotski。 “We can’t trust them； sergeant。 We don’t know what
they did to deserve this； don’t know if they are cowards or traitors or just weak — but whichever it
is； they are already lost。 Even if they are sincere in their intentions； they cannot be cleansed of their
sins。 Sooner or later； Chaos will take their minds — and when that happens； they will turn on us。”
Gavotski just nodded。 “I know；” he said。
And his words were like a knife blow to Pozhar’s heart。
The interior of the Ice Palace was no less impressive than its exterior — and no less well…guarded。
Ste