battle-plate, even smothering their blades so a glint of light would not betray them, the Salamanders moved like invisible phantoms across the dark plain. Even the burning fire in their eyes was extinguished, hidden by battle- helm lenses set to maximum opacity like one-way glass in an interrogation chamber.
Traversing the open dunes in a crouching run, his widely-dispersed squad slowly converging, Tsu'gan reached the edge of the first redoubt. Even in the dark, his keen eyes picked out the silhouettes of sentries lurking within. The sergeant took care to remain out of their direct eye line, his movements low and fluid so as not to arouse suspicion. The Iron Warriors had, up to that point, not moved, so he assumed his advance had gone undetected.
Creeping around the edge of the redoubt, using its bulk to hide his position from the lofty walls of the fortress several hundred metres back, he listened intently.
Only the wind and the faint
of booted feet on the battlements above came back at him.
Tsu'gan edged further, sliding the tarnished blade of his close combat weapon from its sheath in preparation for the kill. The redoubt wasn't gated at the back and could be accessed freely through an open doorway in its rear wall.
That was good. It would make creeping behind the sentry that much easier. He considered briefly how it might affront the martial pride of some Chapters to sneak up on an enemy in this way. The Salamanders, though, had always been pragmatic in the ways of war. They believed its fires could cleanse the soul and purify the spirit, but they also adhered to the end justifying the means, and victory at all costs.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu'gan saw more dark phantoms sweeping silently through the night as the other combat squads moved into position. His own cadre of warriors arrived at his back. Brother Lazarus was foremost amongst them and nodded to indicate his readiness. S'tang was right behind him. His battle-helm, like his brothers', was swathed in camouflaging ash. Honorious and Tiberon guarded the entrance, ensuring no enemy escaped. Silently, the other three Salamanders entered the redoubt.
Two sentries waited within, Iron Warriors both, with their backs to them. S'tang would hold back, only intervening if needed. The traitors were standing stock-still, surveying the dark dunes beyond the redoubt.
Death is upon you, brothers, Tsu'gan thought bitterly, noticing a battered but razor-edged storm shield leaning against the wall inside. His sheathed his blade silently, deciding not to sully the weapon with traitor's blood, and took up the shield.
Lazarus was poised to strike, his jagged spatha held in a reverse grip so he could strike downwards, aiming for the slim gap between gorget and cuirass.
Tsu'gan was ready too, and battle-signed the order to attack.
He leapt forwards, resisting the urge to roar a battle cry, and battered the Iron Warrior to the ground with a fierce, two-handed smash from the shield. The momentum of the strike carried Tsu'gan forwards. He dived on the prone traitor, pinning his arms with his knees and ramming the razor-edge of the shield into the Iron Warrior's neck, cutting off his head.
He turned to Lazarus. The Salamander was withdrawing his blade and wiping off the blood, which seemed oddly sparse. Tsu'gan put it down to the low light impeding his vision, but when he looked at his dead sentry he knew that something wasn't right.
There was almost no blood.
He had severed the bastard's neck; there should be blood - lots of it. Yet, there was almost none. Tsu'gan tossed the shield aside and lifted up the sentry's decapitated head, inspecting the wound. It was dark and viscous, but didn't flow. The blood was clotted. The Iron Warriors had been dead before they'd even entered the redoubt.
'The guards were already dead,' he hissed into the comm-feed, patching in all combat squads and breaking vox silence.
A slew of similar reports came from the other four assault groups. Each had entered their respective redoubt undetected and killed the sentries inside, only to discover the enemy was deceased.
Tsu'gan rasped a reply.
'Go to bolters.' The brother-sergeant scanned the dark through the redoubt's firing slit and then the open doorway. Inwardly, he cursed. The Iron Warriors had drawn them in like neophytes, exposed their position. Racking his bolter's slide, preparing to unleash death if he was to meet his end, he crouched down so he presented a smaller target. Then he waited.
Several minutes passed in the silent blackness. No assassins came creeping from the dark; no kill-teams closed the elaborate trap they had set.
The expected counter-attack did not materialise, was not going to materialise. For some unknown reason, the Iron Warriors had manned their redoubts with the dead.
'They weren't trying to lure us,' Tsu'gan realised, keeping his voice low. 'They were deterrents.'
'Sergeant?' Brother Lazarus hissed.
Tsu'gan waved away the question. He had no answer to it. Yet.
'We hold here,' he said. 'We wait.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
I
B
illowing ash clouds
were dissipating slowly on the grey horizon. It was the last evidence of N'keln's muster from the Salamanders' encampment. Brother Argos had managed to release the land vehicles from the hold of the with the Firedrakes, his Inferno Guard and Chaplain Elysius aboard. Even Fugis made the journey. The Apothecary had considered staying behind to tend the wounded, but his place was by N'keln's side and his brothers would likely need him in the coming battle against the Iron Warriors, so he had ventured back to the front line for the first time since Stratos.
The rest of the Salamanders' vehicles comprised four Rhino APCs that conveyed all three squads of Devastators and Brother-Sergeant Clovius's Tactical squad. The captain had selected his task force according to firepower. He intended to breach the fortress walls at distance, rather than storm them. Devastators were well suited to that task, and since Clovius boasted both missile launcher and plasma gun in his ranks, he was an ideal fourth squad choice and occupied the remaining Rhino.
Vargo and his Assault squad were the final element to the task force. His troops would make their way on foot, using bursts from their jump packs to keep pace. Once the walls were breached, Brother-Sergeant Vargo and his troops could quickly exploit the gap.
Dak'ir was left back to maintain vigil over the encampment. Though he would rather have joined the task force, he knew his duty and respected the will of his captain. The other squads continued with their rotational duties of excavating the
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