He tried to look back down the mountainside along the route they had followed； but all he could
see was the clouds of dust kicked up by the line of coughing； spluttering vehicles behind him。 The
column was significantly shorter than it had been when it had set out from Balkar。 He still didn’t
know exactly how many had died rushing the ork wall。
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He felt two sharp tugs on his trouser leg and dropped back down into the Chimera’s passenger
compartment。 His adjutant indicated a flickering light on the vox…caster。
“Major General Killian wants a word； sir；” he said。
Bergen told his adjutant to patch Killian through； and then spoke through the tiny vox…mic built
into his rebreather mask。
“Bergen here；” he said。 “Go ahead。”
“Gerard； this is Klotus。 I’ve just had a vox from my scout captain。 Something you should
definitely hear。”
“Go ahead。 I’m listening。”
“It’s about the trail we’re following；” said Killian。 “We’re not the first to tread it。”
“So the orks did bring The Fortress of Arrogance this way？” said Bergen in genuine surprise。
Whatever he had expected； it hadn’t been that the tech…priests might be telling the truth。
“Too difficult to say； the tracks are vague； all but eroded。 But the scouts say there is sign of at
least one vehicle and a fair number of foot soldiers。”
“It has to be orks。 According to the records； we’re the first Imperial troops to set foot here since
the last war。”
“Maybe。 But not everything goes into the records； does it？ And it depends on whose records
we’re talking about。 There’s no way the tracks are thirty…eight years old。 I can tell you that much。”
Bergen sat silent for a moment。 It had to be orks。 It just had to be； but； if the tracks were
Imperial； it meant that someone else had got here first。 Why hadn’t Exolon been told？ By all
accounts； theirs was the first officially sanctioned mission ever to attempt a recovery of Yarrick’s
tank。 If the tracks they followed belonged to an Imperial force； who the hell were they； and what
were they doing here？
“Will you tell me the moment you know more？”
“Of course I will；” said Killian。 “I don’t like this any more than you do。”
“You’ve told Rennkamp？ General deViers？”
“About to；” said Killian。
Bergen thought about that。 “Why did you come to me first； Klotus？”
Killian hesitated； perhaps checking for a second that the channel was properly encrypted。
“Because deViers has been losing it for months。 We both know it。 And he’s closer to cracking right
now than I’ve ever seen him。 If he has some kind of breakdown； the mission will fall to you。 And so
will our survival。 I want to get off this rock alive； Gerard。 I’m not meant to die here and neither are
my men。”
“Thanks for the update； Klotus；” Bergen said。 “Keep me posted； won’t you？”
“You’ve got it。 Killian signing off。”
The light on the vox…board blinked out。
In Tech…Magos Sennesdiar’s specially fitted Chimera； Tech…Adept Xephous hit a toggle and
watched a similar green light die。 He turned to his superior and said；
replied Sennesdiar。
There was a moment of silence as each of the Martian priests processed the ramifications of this。
It was Armadron who ultimately broke it。
Sennesdiar replied。
said Xephous。
141
answered Sennesdiar。
said Xephous。
said Armadron；
Wulfe growled as another wave of dust smothered him and his tank。 If he didn’t know better； he
would have said the New Champion was churning up the ground deliberately to impair his vision；
but all the tanks were suffering the same problem。 The trail was so narrow that the Imperial
machines had to move in single file。 As the convoy climbed higher and higher into the mountains；
the danger increased。
Metzger was guiding Last Rites II carefully along a crumbling ridge while trying to keep her at a
reasonable speed。 Everyone knew that the orks weren’t far behind； though they couldn’t be sighted；
hidden from view by the dust and the drop…off。
Wulfe took a look to his right and； not for the first time； felt something flip inside his stomach。 A
vast chasm yawned between the peak they were ascending and the next。 He turned his eyes to the
front again and felt his stomach muscles relax。
What the hell are we doing up here； he asked himself？ High altitude is no bloody place for heavy
armour。
Wulfe and the rest of the Gunheads were near the rear of the column； part of an armour
detachment charged with defending the Thirty…Sixers and Heracles halftracks that carried most of
the remaining supplies。 As such； the orks were snapping at their heels。 They were most at risk。
Behind Last Rites II came Old Smashbones and a feajor
General Rennkamp’s 12th Mechanised division。 Wulfe didn’t know the crews； but that didn’t
matter。 Whatever division they came from； the Cadians really had to stick together。 There weren’t
all that many left of them； just a few thousand men packed tightly into a few hundred machines。 By
contrast； scouts attached to the rearguard reported ork vehicles pursuing in the thousands。 Turning to
face them was not an option。 The Cadians could only keep going while the tech…priests insisted that
this was the way。
Orks or not； the mountain trail was proving enough of a challenge on its own。
Still looking ahead； trying to guide his driver as well as he possibly could despite the dust；
Wulfe decided to vox Lieutenant van Droi。 Van Droi had been too damned quiet since learning of
Colonel Vinnemann’s death。 It wasn’t like him。
“Sword Lead to Company Command；” he said。 “This is Wulfe； sir。 Please respond； over。”
“Company here； Wulfe；” replied van Droi。 He didn’t sound well。 “What can I do for you？”
Wulfe wondered how to say it without causing offence。 “Just reporting in； sir。 Still quiet back
here。 No sign of the orks so far。 I don’t suppose it’s too much to hope that they called off the
chase？”
“How long have you been a soldier； Wulfe？” said van Droi。 “You know better than that。”
“I know； sir；” said Wulfe。 “I know。 Just wishful thinking。 Listen… about the colonel； sir…”
“What about him； sergeant？”
The lieutenant’s tone told Wulfe he was treading dangerous ground。 “I’ll miss him； sir。 That’s
all。”
Van Droi was silent for a good ten seconds。 Wulfe thought the lieutenant had actually broken the
link for a moment； but then van Droi said； “You know； Oskar； when young men get their first
combat posting； it’s as if they’re suddenly children again。 Doesn’t matter if they’re officers or
grunts。 They feel inadequate； confused and scared。 They feel like they don’t belong。 And the fear
that builds up in them sometimes… Maybe you felt that way yourself。”
“I’m sure I did； sir；” said Wulfe。 “It was a long time ago； but I’m sure I did。”
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“I never forgot that feeling；” voxed van Droi wistfully。 “I hated it more than anything； you
know。 I felt like a burden to those around me。 I had so much to learn and they had no time to teach。
It was Vinnemann that pulled me out of it。 He was just a captain back then。 It was before his injury。
He was one hell of a leader。”
“He was a good man； sir；” said Wulfe。
“He was a great man；” said van Droi。 Again there was a long pause。 “It’s not looking good for us
out here； Wulfe。 But if we have any chance at all to make him proud； I say there’s nothing we
shouldn’t do to honour him。 Understand？”
Wulfe thought he did。 It wasn’t about nice neat plans anymore。 Things had gone way beyond
that。 Van Droi was looking for something to hold on to； something solid； and； in the honour of the
regiment and his duty to Colonel Vinnemann； it was clear that he had found it； despite the mess they
were in。 Wulfe hoped he might draw a little strength from that himself。 If it worked for van Droi； it
could work for him； too。
He was a soldier。 He was a Cadian。
“For the colonel； sir；” he told van Droi； “and for the regiment。 If we go out； we’ll go out with a
hell of a bang； sir。”
Van Droi sounded a little brighter when he answered。 “That’s the stuff； Oskar。 Not many of the
Gunheads left now； but we’ll make our mark； by Throne。”
“You bet； sir；” said Wulfe。 “You can count on me and my crew。”
“I know I can； sergeant。 Van Droi out。”
“Major General Killian would like to speak with you again； sir；” said Bergen’s adjutant over the
intercom。
Bergen； up in his cupola again； immediately changed the channel on his vox…bead and said；
“News； Klotus？”
“I’ll say。 My scout leader just reported in。 This trail takes us up into the clouds just a few
hundred metres around the next curve and ends shortly afterwards。 Visibility is poor； and the going
is extremely treacherous。 But that’s not all。 The scouts… they’ve found something strange。 I thought
you ought to know。”
“Strange？ What are we talking about exactly？”
“They had difficulty describing it to me。 Look； Gerard； I’m not sure what we’re getting into
here； but I know I don’t like it and neither do my men。 According to my scouts； it’s something we’d
better see for ourselves。”
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CHAPTER TWENTY…FIVE
“Human？” asked General deViers。
“I wouldn’t want to bet on that； sir；” replied Rennkamp。 “I suppose it could be。 Difficult to tell
with all the erosion。 All the same； it’s damned strange； if you ask me。 What in blazes is it doing up
here？”
The Cadian senior officers — deViers； his division commanders； and various attached staff —
stood at the very end of the mountain trail； surrounded by anxious scouts from the 88th Mobile
Infantry Regiment； the men that Marrenburg had sent forward to lead the column。 Massive spurs of
dark rock curved around them on either side； and the upper reaches of the mountain stretched high
above them； peaks lost in the roiling clouds。 The eyes of the Cadians barely lingered on any of these
things； however。 Instead； they were locked to the sight that lay straight in front of them。
It was ancient； that much was certain； and it was something that none of the Cadians had been
prepared for。
A great rectangular space had been excavated in the side of the mountain； forming an alcove so
wide and deep that one could have parked an entire Naval lifter inside it。 The edges looked like they
might once have been angular； squared off by the tools or machines of the masons that had carved it；
but they weren’t very square now。 Thousands of years of harsh weather had smoothed and rounded
them； as it had also done to the twin godlike figures； cut from the same stone； which knelt belo