Wolf's Honour Part 12

The surge of pure, soulless hunger that gripped him nearly took Ragnar's breath away. For a fleeting instant he could imagine her throat within his jaws and taste the hot rush of her blood. He staggered, bile rising in his throat, and fell out of step with his brothers.

The rest of the pack loped past Ragnar, all except for Torin, who slowed his pace and came up alongside the young s.p.a.ce Wolf. The older Wolfblade's expression was full of concern, but Ragnar waved him away with a savage sweep of his hand. 'Keep your distance brother,' he said hoa.r.s.ely. 'I... am not myself.'

'I know, brother,' Torin replied quietly. 'I can smell it. Your scent is changing as the Wulfen grows in strength.'

'Russ preserve me,' Ragnar said, his hearts clenching in horror. He looked out across the featureless plain and for a fleeting instant he was tempted to run as fast and as far from his brethren as he could. 'I can't believe Harald or the others haven't noticed.'

'The reason is simple,' Torin replied, his voice grim. 'They can't tell the difference because it's happening to all of us.'

Ragnar scowled at Torin, thinking for a moment that he was being mocked, but then he saw the look in the older Wolfblade's eyes. Behind the concern there was a cold, desperate glint, hinting at the inner struggle going on inside the warrior. Ragnar suddenly noticed the tension gripping Torin's lean frame and caught the older Wolfs scent. There was a musky undercurrent that immediately set the young s.p.a.ce Wolf's teeth on edge. Instead of his battle-brother, Ragnar saw only another predator and a potential rival.

The sudden realisation struck Ragnar like a physical blow. He reeled away from Torin, his lips pulling back in a feral snarl.

Before he could react further, Torin's voice pulled Ragnar back from the brink. 'Peace, brother!' he said quickly, stepping forward and gripping Ragnar's wrist. 'Master yourself, or all of us are lost'

Ragnar clenched his jaws and fought against the beast that threatened to suborn him. He focused on Torin's unwavering gaze and the steadying grip of his hand, and after a moment the fire in his blood subsided. When he could speak again he asked, 'How can this be, Torin? How is this possible?'

The older Wolfblade could only shake his head helplessly. 'I do not know,' he said. 'I've sensed the changes ever since we landed here. Even Haegr is being affected to some degree.' Torin grinned fleet-ingly. 'If we're not careful he might try to eat us all.'

The attempt at humour was lost on Ragnar. 'I've never heard of so many Wolves succ.u.mbing at once,' he said.

'Nor I,' Torin replied. 'At first I thought that the planet was affecting us - we are somewhere in the Eye of Terror, after all - but you were feeling the curse when we were still on Fenris.' The older warrior's shoulders slumped. 'I should have seen it then and brought it to Ranek's attention, but you can be so d.a.m.ned melancholy sometimes.' He sighed. 'Forgive me brother. I failed you.'

Ragnar shook his head ruefully. 'This is no fault of yours, Torin. You told me to speak to Sigurd aboard the Fist of Russ, but I was too stiff-necked to seek him out when I had the chance.' A thought occurred to the young s.p.a.ce Wolf. 'Could it be me?' he asked. 'Could I somehow be affecting the rest of you?'

Torin's brows knitted thoughtfully. 'Honestly, I don't know. I've never heard of such a thing, but who knows? Perhaps that's why the priests cull the Wulfen from the companies and isolate them.' After a few more moments' thought, he shook his head. 'No, if that was true then Haegr and I would have been affected ere now. Something else is causing this.'

Ragnar thought it over, and was forced to nod in agreement. 'That's a pity,' he said grimly. 'If I thought I could stop this by putting a bolt pistol to my head I would do it.'

'Don't be stupid,' Torin snapped.

'You wouldn't say that if you felt the same way I do,' Ragnar said. 'I'm becoming a danger to Gabriella, Torin. The thoughts that are going through my head...'

'I can guess,' the older Wolfblade replied. 'Don't worry, brother. I won't let you harm her. You have my oath upon it.' He sighed. 'Honestly, it's the younger ones I'm worried about. Harald and his packmates don't have the experience we have. They could succ.u.mb to the Wulfen and never know it until it was too late.'

Ragnar nodded gravely. 'I hear you, Torin. We can only pray to the Allfather that our oaths will sustain us long enough to deal with Madox and his infernal master. After that...' he shrugged.

'Aye,' Torin said. 'The rest is up to the Fates.'

The two Wolfblades had fallen several dozen metres behind the rest of the group. Ragnar nodded to Torin, and they began to pick up the pace. As they did so, Ragnar caught a hint of motion out of the corner of his eye. With a flash of irritation and a shake of his head he dismissed the phantom image, until he saw it again, streaking across the starless sky from the east.

'Hostile aircraft,' Ragnar bellowed. 'Take cover!'

The Chaos fighters howled across the plain less than fifty metres above the deck, opening fire the moment the s.p.a.ce Wolves began to scatter. Streams of green energy bolts raked along the dark ground and left melted craters in the surface of the roadway. The s.p.a.ce Marines reacted with blurring speed and years of experience and training, seeming to dance effortlessly among the streams of fire. One of the bondsmen wasn't so lucky, however. Two bolts took him high on the chest and shoulder, blowing the gunner apart.

Ragnar caught a glimpse of Haegr pushing Gabriella and Volt to the ground and placing his considerable bulk between them and the attacking ships. The two enemy fighters streaked overhead and split up, arrowing skyward on pillars of ghostly fire. An arc of red tracers fanned the air behind the southerly fighter as one of Harald's Blood Claws opened fire with his salvaged heavy bolter. The Chaos ship made a tight roll, avoiding the explosive sh.e.l.ls, and disappeared into the darkness.

'Move, move!' Ragnar yelled, rising to his feet. The dark green border of the agri-combine appeared to be only a few hundred metres away. It wasn't much, but it was the only cover he could see for kilometres. 'Run for the fields! Go! Haegr, get Gabriella moving.'

The Blood Claws started moving at once, heavy bolters sweeping from horizon to horizon in smooth, controlled arcs. Haegr lifted Gabriella bodily to her feet, and then Volt as well, sending both running full-tilt down the roadway with the surviving bondsmen close behind. Torin fell into step beside Ragnar. 'Scout flight, you reckon?' he asked.

'Scouts or escorts,' Ragnar said, searching the sky. 'We'll know for sure in the next few minutes.'

The Chaos fighters made their second pa.s.s from the north-east, appearing without warning over the fields ahead. As bolts of energy tore through the pack of Wolves, Harald's gunners stopped in their tracks and filled the air with tracer fire. A burst of sh.e.l.ls st.i.tched a line of small explosions along the length of one of the attack craft. It roared overhead, trailing a ribbon of smoke and flame, and then went into an uncontrolled spin and crashed into the earth half a kilometre away.

Las-bolts chased vainly after the second fighter as the bondsmen vented their rage at the enemy ships. Ragnar gripped his bolt pistol and was tempted to loose a few pointless rounds, just for spite's sake. One of the Blood Claws was reeling, clutching at the melted stump of his left arm and cursing at the sky.

Ahead, Harald and his packmates had come to a halt before a knee-high barrier of pale metal that marked the outer boundary of the combine. Volt and Gabriella stood in their midst, staring motionless at the rustling fields beyond.

Ragnar charged past the smoking heavy bolters and made straight for Gabriella. He could almost feel the second fighter rolling in for a third pa.s.s, straight down the roadway behind them. 'What in the Allfather's name are you waiting for?' he snarled. 'We've got to get under cover-'

Gabriella turned to him, and the look of horror on her face stopped Ragnar in his tracks.

A dry, whispering sound rose from the dark fields as the vast fields of the agri-combine rustled in the wind. Except, Ragnar suddenly realised, there was no breeze blowing against his face.

The tall, dark green stalks ordered in neat ranks beyond the barrier looked like gene-crafted com at first glance. Long drooping leaves, dozens of them on each stalk, trembled and whispered against one another, as though fearful of the s.p.a.ce Marines' presence.

Lightning split the sky to the east, painting the glossy leaves in pale, green light. Each leaf bore a human face, distorted into a mask of terror and pain. As Ragnar watched, the lips of each face moved in a silent scream or a plea for release.

'Blessed Russ!' Ragnar hissed. 'What in the Allfather's name is this?'

'A harvest of d.a.m.nation,' Volt said gravely. 'These are the sacrifices that made this dark world possible. Field after field of them, stretching for thousands of kilometres all across the planet'

'We have to burn them,' Harald said hoa.r.s.ely. 'Our flamers-'

'Our flamers are not enough,' Ragnar said, 'and right now we need them.'

Then the heavy bolters began to roar again, and streaks of ghostly fire hissed past the stricken Blood Claws. Ragnar whirled and saw a stream of green bolts marching up the roadway towards him. 'Into the field!' he roared. 'Now!'

Raising his bolt pistol, Ragnar began walking towards the oncoming fighter, aiming and firing one shot after another as the Blood Claws began to scramble over the barrier. If the enemy fighter pilot wanted a target, he was going to give it one.

The attack ship was low and level, just a few dozen metres above the roadway. It plunged through a web of tracer fire, its cannons blazing. The two s.p.a.ce Wolf gunners blazed away at the Chaos ship just ahead of Ragnar. One of the Blood Claws was struck full in the chest by one of the energy bolts, blowing a hole the size of Ragnar's fist clean through the young warrior. The gunner staggered, and then sank to one knee, but the Blood Claw kept firing.

A volley of bolts filled the air around Ragnar. One glanced off his left pauldron and burned a molten furrow through the ceramite plate. The blow knocked the young s.p.a.ce Wolf back a step, but he continued to fire until his pistol's magazine was empty.

'Ragnar! Get back here!' Torin called from the combine's metal barrier.

The mortally wounded Blood Claw toppled forward, his hand still closed around the firing lever of his heavy bolter. Hits were beginning to register across the hull of the oncoming fighter however, as the surviving gunner found the range. Howling his defiance, the gunner stepped into the middle of the roadway, right into the attack ship's path.

Ragnar glanced back at the barrier. Torin was there, beckoning with his blade. 'Come on!' he shouted over the hammering blasts of the heavy bolter.

Explosive sh.e.l.ls burst in staccato flashes across the nose and glowing viewports of the Chaos ship. Suddenly there was a larger blast farther aft, and the attack craft was haloed in a nimbus of burning gas and electrical discharges. The ship seemed to stagger in midair, and then plummeted like a thunderbolt towards Ragnar and the Blood Claw gunner.

Ragnar saw the danger at once, but the gunner continued to fire at the diving craft. 'Run!' the young s.p.a.ce Wolf yelled at the Blood Claw, but the gunner didn't seem to hear. He was still firing, the barrel of his heavy bolter glowing red with heat, when the fighter smashed into the roadway and crushed him beneath its skidding, tumbling bulk.

Cursing, Ragnar spun on his heel and raced for the combine's metal barrier as quickly as he could. He could hear the grinding, crashing screech of the attack ship disintegrating along the roadway behind him, growing closer with every pa.s.sing second. At the last moment, Ragnar gathered his strength and leapt for the barrier. Something hard and unyielding smashed into his back the moment his feet left the ground, cracking his backpack and hurling him through the air. Tumbling, he struck the dark earth hard and rolled for several metres, flattening the morbid stalks, and digging furrows into the ground.

The attack ship spent the last of its energy against the combine's metal barrier, scattering steaming debris across the dreadful field. Twisted hunks of red-hot metal landed all around Ragnar, the pieces hissing against the dark ground. Within moments, Torin was at his side, all but dragging the young s.p.a.ce Wolf to his feet. 'I saw more thrusters burning off to the south,' Torin said. 'They're coming this way. Looks like those two were escorts after all.'

Ragnar climbed to his feet. His hands seemed to move of their own accord, dropping the empty bolt pistol magazine and slapping in a fresh one. 'Where's Gabriella?'

'Somewhere in this cursed field,' Torin replied, glancing warily to the south. 'She's with Haegr and Volt. The inquisitor told everyone to make for the buildings to the north.'

The young s.p.a.ce Wolf scowled at the news. 'We can't afford to get hemmed into a static defence,' he said. 'We've got to stay on the move or we'll be overwhelmed.'

'Tell that to Volt,' Torin said ruefully.

'First things first,' the young s.p.a.ce Wolf replied, breathing deeply of the dry, musty air. He tasted Gabriella's scent and felt his pulse quicken. 'Let's go find them.'

The two warriors dashed deeper into the sacrificial field, forcing their way down narrow rows carved between the dark green furrows. Slick, waxy leaves slithered against the plates of their armour and across their faces. When they brushed against his ears Ragnar thought he could hear the plaintive whispers of the souls trapped within.

He focused instead on the sounds of pounding feet echoing from the field in a wide arc ahead of him. It sounded like the Blood Claws had fanned out, or perhaps they had simply been separated by the field's endless, identical rows. Ragnar keyed his vox-bead and his ears were filled with a harsh, atonal sound, rising and falling like the howl of a demented wolf. He called to Haegr or Volt, but got no reply He gave up after a few tries and concentrated instead on loping after the Navigator's scent.

Ragnar heard the approaching ships before he saw them, a rising crescendo of shrieking thrusters coming in low from the south. A dark shape roared overhead. Ragnar glanced up at a black, angular hull that glistened like polished iron and was studded with rows of curved spikes and jagged blades. Open portals gaped like mouths along the underside of the ship, and the young s.p.a.ce Wolf saw armoured, red-eyed figures crouching at their rims.

The a.s.sault ships thundered past Ragnar in a staggered line four abreast, riding boiling plumes of smoke and steam. More than a score of dark shapes leapt from the speeding craft, falling like stormhawks on shrieking pillars of superheated air. Ragnar saw at once that they were Chaos s.p.a.ce Marines, but their desecrated suits of power armour were fitted with bulbous, turbine-driven backpacks. They carried ornate bolt pistols and chainswords in their hands, and long trophy cords strung with human scalps hung heavily at their waists. The young s.p.a.ce Wolf recognised them with a surge of frozen dread: Chaos Raptors, the shock troops and flesh hunters of the Traitor Legions. They plunged like arrows into the field around the running Wolves, filling the air with their bloodcurdling shrieks.

Angry howls and the crack of bolt pistols echoed among the shifting stalks as the Raptors closed in from all sides. Ragnar howled a challenge of his own and drew his frost blade from its scabbard. Just as the rune-marked blade whirred into deadly life a dark shape burst into the narrow row ahead of the young s.p.a.ce Wolf. The Raptor spun on his heel, his trophy lines fanning out in a dreadful display as he brought his weapons to bear.

The Raptor's bolt pistol boomed and a ma.s.s-reactive sh.e.l.l flattened against Ragnar's breastplate. Snarling, the young s.p.a.ce Wolf broke into a full run, snapping shots at the foe as he came. The bolt pistol sh.e.l.ls rang harmlessly off the Raptor's armour, and an answering shot ricocheted from the side of Ragnar's knee. With a fierce shout, Ragnar raised his sword and slashed at the Raptor's neck, but the Chaos warrior was a blur of motion, parrying the stroke with a sweep of its chainsword. Sparks flew from the clash of blades, but the attack was only a feint. Ragnar took another step forward, put his bolt pistol against the Raptor's left eye and pulled the trigger. The heavy sh.e.l.l burst the helmet apart, and Ragnar leapt over the foe's collapsing form.

Sounds of confused fighting echoed all around Ragnar as he tried to focus on Gabriella's scent. Las-bolts hissed through the air, and stray bolt-rounds carved paths through the dense rows of sacrificial stalks. Off to Ragnar's right, a man screamed in agony and a volley of wild las-bolts tore through the air. Bolter rounds rang off armour to the young s.p.a.ce Wolfs left, and then came the unmistakeable sound of a chain-blade rending flesh.

Gabriella's scent was growing stronger. She was close by, and Ragnar's pulse quickened when he realised that her trail led into the midst of a fierce battle that was raging just ahead. He was so intent on the sounds of battle that he didn't see the Raptor coming, until it leapt at him through a screen of rustling stalks to his right.

A chainsword roared through the air, slicing through the tall, green plants and sc.r.a.ping against Ragnar's right pauldron. The blade's whirring teeth sliced open the skin along his jaw, cutting the young s.p.a.ce Wolf to the bone. He whirled, bringing up his frost blade, but the Raptor blocked it with its snarling blade and raised his bolt pistol for a shot at Ragnar's unprotected neck. But before either Wolf or Raptor could react, a slim blade was buried deep in the attacker's neck. The Chaos warrior collapsed in a flood of steaming ichor as Torin pulled his sword free.

There was a sound like a thunderclap a few dozen metres ahead, and a bellow like that of an enraged bear. 'That would be Haegr,' Torin said with a grin. Ragnar nodded curtly and broke back into a run.

Within moments, they found themselves at the edge of a trampled clearing of sorts, where blades, bodies and tramping feet had flattened a rough circle within the blasphemous field. Gabriella, Volt, and Haegr stood back to back in the centre of the clearing, shooting and swinging at the pack of Raptors that encircled them. Bodies lay everywhere. Half a dozen armoured Chaos warriors were sprawled across the dark earth, close to the broken bodies of two of the Thunderhawk's gunners and Harald's one-armed Blood Claw. At the far end of the clearing the Thunderhawk's tech-priest was on his knees, choking for breath as he pressed red-stained hands to his torn throat. Haegr was trying to reach the mortally wounded bondsman, keeping the Raptors at bay with mighty sweeps of his thunder hammer.

Inquisitor Volt levelled his bolt pistol at one of the Raptors and fired. The sh.e.l.l took the armoured warrior square in the chest, and powerful blessings worked into the ammunidon punched right through the armoured breastplate and consumed the man inside in a sheet of silvery flames. The inquisitor's armour burned bright with the glowing tracery of potent wards, and his unsheathed sword glimmered with pale blue lightning similar to a Rune Priest's blade. A Raptor's gun barked, and a slug smashed into Volt's shoulder, knocking the old man off his feet. Three of the Chaos warriors rushed forward, leaping high on jets of shrieking air and plunging like falcons upon their prey.

To Ragnar's horror, Lady Gabriella rushed to protect the fallen inquisitor. She levelled a sleek-looking silver pistol at the lead Raptor and fired an indigo-coloured beam that burned a glowing hole clean through the armoured foe. The warrior collapsed with a screech, but before his companions could react, the Navigator slashed at them with a sweeping stroke of her sabre. The master crafted power blade glimmered like white-hot steel as it sliced through the legs of one Raptor and cut the thigh of the other. The wounded Raptor let out a sharp hiss and staggered backwards, shooting Gabriella twice in the chest. She pitched backwards and fell without a sound.

Ragnar charged into the clearing with a wild howl, sword ready and bolt pistol blazing. Two Raptors toppled, their throats blown apart by ma.s.s-reactive sh.e.l.ls, and another had its chest split open by a stroke from the young s.p.a.ce Wolf's blade. Torin followed in Ragnar's wake, snapping off precise, deadly shots at the foemen near Gabriella's p.r.o.ne form.

Two Raptors spun around at the Wolves' sudden a.s.sault and slashed at Ragnar. The young s.p.a.ce Wolf took their raking blows against his battle worn armour, and struck off their heads with a single sweep of his sword. He stepped past their collapsing bodies and buried his sword into the side of another onrush-ing Chaos warrior. The Raptor's sword raked at the side of the young s.p.a.ce Wolf's face and cut deep into his neck before his lifeless form sank to the ground. Ragnar hurled the Raptor's body away, and with two more steps he reached the Navigator's side.

His enhanced senses told him at once that she was still alive; he could hear her heartbeat hammering in her chest. She sat up with a grimace, letting go of her sword and pressing her hand to the two slugs that had flattened themselves against her breastplate. 'I'm all right,' she said breathlessly. 'Help me up.'

Taking her at her word, Ragnar lifted Gabriella to her feet, while Torin helped Inquisitor Volt. Haegr whirled around, raising his stained hammer, and then his beady eyes widened as he recognised his brothers. 'Torin! Ragnar! Where the devil have you two been? I've been fighting the whole d.a.m.ned horde single-handed!'

'Never mind that now,' Ragnar snarled. 'How much farther to the buildings at the centre of the combine?'

Haegr straightened, peering over the tops of the sacrificial plants. 'Three hundred metres or so,' he said. A stray bolt-round whickered past the Wolfs s.h.a.ggy head, causing him to duck down again.

'Let's go,' Ragnar said. 'I'm on point. Torin on the left, Haegr on the right. Lady Gabriella, Inquisitor Volt, you're in the middle. Now move!'

They set off once more down the narrow lanes between the sacrificial stalks, weapons held ready. The fighting seemed to be tapering off, and howls echoing back and forth from the fields ahead told Ragnar that at least some of Harald's pack still lived. As they ran across the remainder of the field, they stumbled over more trampled scenes of carnage, strewn with blood and scorched earth from the Raptor's jets.

Ragnar and his companions came upon Harald and his warriors all at once, nearly falling over them as they crouched behind a metal barrier at the north end of the field. The pack leader was studying the complex of darkened buildings ahead. Lightning flickered, banishing the shadows around the structures for a tantalising instant.

Harald shook his head. 'Gunther thought he saw movement behind one of those buildings, but with all the lightning it's hard to be sure.'

'Well, we can't stay out here,' Volt said hoa.r.s.ely. 'We need to get somewhere defensible before those ships come back again.'

'No, we need to keep moving,' Ragnar said flatly. 'If we hole up in these buildings the enemy will surround us and wear us down. Time and numbers are on their side.'

'We agree on that much at least,' Harald growled.

The old inquisitor studied the buildings almost wistfully. Ragnar sensed that the man was exhausted, and Gabriella was not in much better shape, but Volt finally nodded. 'All right, we stay on the move,' he said, and then pointed at the buildings. 'We'll cross the compound and disappear into the field on the other side. That's the most direct route to the mountains north of us.'

Ragnar and Harald exchanged glances and rose to their feet as one. Weapons sweeping the open ground beyond the barrier, the s.p.a.ce Wolves emerged warily from the field. Lightning glittered across the surface of their ice-blue armour and on the whirring teeth of their chainblades.

The buildings were low, ferrocrete bunkers, most of them built to house the agri-servitors that tended the fields, plus a generator station and a logic hub. Four tall granaries towered from the centre of the compound, rising more than forty metres into the air. There were no lights, nor were there doors set in the buildings' doorframes or gla.s.s panels in the windows. Evidently, the structures alone were enough to make Madox's geomancy possible.

Ragnar surveyed the battered group that emerged from the depths of the sacrificial field. None of the Thunderhawk's gunners or its tech-priest had survived, and three of Harald's pack were gone. Coundng Volt, Gabriella and the Wolfblade, there were only twelve souls left against the might of an entire Traitor Legion.

It will be enough, Ragnar thought grimly. It will have to be enough.

They moved quickly and quietly down dark lanes between the empty structures. Ragnar felt his hackles rise as he watched the open doorways for signs of movement. The lightning played tricks on his eyes, hinting at movement down the dark side-streets.

Within a few minutes they had reached the foot of the towering granaries, and the lanes widened to a large ferrocrete plaza, where the agri-servitors could load and unload grain from the huge silos. Moving cautiously, the Wolves advanced across the open s.p.a.ce.

Their boots echoed hollowly across the ferrocrete as they stepped into the midst of the towering granaries. Lightning flashed silently overhead. On impulse, Ragnar looked up at the arcs of unearthly light, and saw the silhouettes of horned helms and hulking shoulders ringing the tops of the four silos. 'Ambush!' he cried, raising his bolt pistol, but it was already too late.

The Raptors leapt from their perches atop the silos and dropped heavily among the surprised Wolves. Ragnar guessed that there were perhaps a score of them, attacking the group from all sides. They had been the true threat all along, he realised. The Raptors dropped into the field had been like hounds, driving the prey into the trap.

One of the attackers landed next to Gabriella, but was struck by Torin, Haegr and the Navigator almost simultaneously Ragnar sighted on another Raptor a few metres away and shot the warrior through the neck. Then a pair of attackers rushed at him from the left, firing as they came. One shot smashed into his hip and another took him high in the shoulder, flattening against his armour, but nearly knocking him from his feet.

The sounds of fighting and the cries of wounded Wolves echoed from all sides. Ragnar howled a challenge at the oncoming Raptors and prepared to die like a son of Fenris.

He shot the first warrior between his red eyes, and then parried the sweeping stroke of the second foe-man. The Raptor reversed its stroke in a blur of motion and slashed downwards at Ragnar's knee. The snarling chainsword found a gap in his armour and bit deep, grating across the bone. The young s.p.a.ce Wolf snarled and hacked downwards, slicing off the foeman's sword-hand at the wrist.

Then there was a flash of light, and a terrible, burning impact smashed into the side of Ragnar's head just above the temple. He heard a roaring sound in his ears, like a howling wind or the pounding of a stormy surf, and then he realised he was falling.

Ragnar landed face down on the ground, blood pouring from the wound in his head. Sounds of fighting raged above him. There was a crack of thunder and a shouted oath, and then the roaring filled his ears once again.

No, not roaring howling like a huge pack of Fenrisian wolves on the hunt.

The sound set Ragnar's blood hissing in his veins. He struggled to get his legs underneath him so that he could stand. He blinked, discovering that he could no longer see out of his left eye.

Something heavy fell on top of him. With a slurred curse, he shoved at the thing grasping dimly that it was the riven corpse of a Raptor. Ragnar rolled awkwardly away from the thing and found himself lying on his back.

A dark silhouette loomed over him. Teeth bared, Ragnar tried to raise his sword, but the figure laid an armoured boot across his wrist and pinned it to the ground. The young s.p.a.ce Wolf raised his bolt pistol, only to find that his gun hand was empty.

The howling continued all around him. Lightning flashed, and in the flickering light Ragnar saw that the figure above him was cased in dark grey power armour similar to his own. Yellowed skulls and leather cords strung with long, curved fangs hung from the warrior's belt, as well as ancient tokens of iron etched with the runes of his people. A red wolf's head snarled fiercely upon the warrior's scarred right pauldron.