His voice easily carried over the dead waters of the swamps, his warriors roaring their assent and following the Warmaster, as Erebus and the Word Bearers set of into the mists.

Fired with furious energy, the Astartes ploughed through the sodden ground, ready to enact the Warmaster's wrath upon the vile foe that had unleashed such horrors upon them. Maggard and Petronella went with them, none of the Astartes willing to retreat and escort them back to the Army positions. Legion apothecaries tended their wounds and helped them through the worst of the terrain.

Eventually, the mists began to thin and Loken could make out the more distant figures of Astartes warriors through the smudges of fog. The further they marched, the more solid the ground underfoot became, and as Erebus led them onwards, the mist became thinner still.

Then, as quickly as a man might step from one room to another, they were out of it.

Behind them, the banks of fog gathered and coiled, like a theatre curtain in a playhouse waiting to unveil some wondrous marvel.

Before them was the source of the vox transmission, rearing up from the muddy plain like a colossal iron mountain.

Eugan Temba's flagship, the Glory of Terra.

Rusted and dead nearly six decades, the vessel lay smashed and ruined on the cratered mudflats, its once mighty hull torn open and buckled almost beyond recognition. Its towering gothic spires, like the precincts of a mighty city, lay fallen and twisted, its buttresses and archways hung with decaying fronds of huge web-like vines. Its keel was broken, as though it had struck the moon's surface, belly first, and many of the upper surfaces had caved in, the decks below open to the elements.

Swathes of mossy greenery covered the hull and her command spire speared into the sky, warp vanes and tall vox masts bending in the moaning wind.

Loken thought the scene unbearably sad. That this should be the final resting place of such a magnificent vessel seemed utterly wrong to him.

Pieces of debris spotted the landscape, twisted hunks of rusted metal and incongruous personal items that must have belonged to the ship's crew and had been ejected during the massive impact with the ground.

'Throne…' breathed Abaddon.

'How?' was all Aximand could manage.

'It's the Glory of Terra alright,' said Erebus. 'I recognise the warp array configuration of the command deck. It's Temba's flagship.'

'Then Temba's already dead,' said Abaddon in frustration. 'Nothing could have survived that crash.'

'Then who's broadcasting that signal?' asked Horus.

'It could have been automated,' suggested Torgaddon. 'Maybe it's been going for years.'

Loken shook his head. 'No, the signal only started once we breached the atmosphere. Someone here activated it when they knew we were coming.'

The Warmaster stared at the massive shape of the wrecked spaceship, as if by staring hard enough he could penetrate its hull and discern what lay within.

'Then we should go in,' urged Erebus. 'Find whoever is inside and kill them.'

Loken rounded on the first chaplain. 'Go inside? Are you mad? We don't have any idea what might be waiting for us. There could be thousands more of those… things inside, or something even worse.'

'What is the matter, Loken?' snarled Erebus. 'Are the Sons of Horus now afraid of the dark?'

Loken took a step towards Erebus and said, 'You dare insult us, Word Bearer?'

Erebus stepped to meet Loken's challenge, but the Mournival took up position behind their newest member and their presence gave the first chaplain pause. Instead of pursuing the matter, Erebus bowed his head and said, 'I apologise if I spoke out of turn, Captain Loken. I sought only to erase the gross stain on the Legion's honour.'

'The Legion's honour is our own to uphold, Erebus,' said Loken. 'It is not for you to tell us how we must act.'

Horus decided the matter before further harsh words could be exchanged. 'We're going in,' he said.

The rippling fog bank followed the Astartes as they advanced towards the crashed ship and the Titans of the Legio Mortis followed behind, their legs still wreathed in the mists. Loken kept his bolter at the ready, conscious of the sounds of splashing water behind them, though he told himself that they were just the normal sounds of this world - whatever that meant.

As they closed the gap, he drew level with the War-master and said, 'Sir, I know what you will say, but I would be remiss if I didn't speak up.'

'Speak up about what, Garviel?' asked Horus.

'About this. About you leading us into the unknown.'

'Haven't I been doing that for the last two centuries?' asked Horus. 'All the time we've been pushing out into space, hasn't it been to push back the unknown? That's what we're here for, Garviel, to render that which is unknown, known.'

Loken sensed the commander's superlative skills of misdirection at work and kept himself focused on the point. The Warmaster had an easy way of steering conversations away from issues he didn't want to talk about.

'Sir, do you value the Mournival as counsel?' asked Loken, taking a different tack.

Horus paused in his advance and turned to face Loken, his face serious. 'You heard what I told that remembrancer in the embarkation deck didn't you? I value your counsel above all things, Garviel. Why would you even ask such a question?'

'Because so often you simply use us as your war dogs, always baying for blood. Having us play a role, instead of allowing us to keep you true to your course.'

'Then say what you have to say, Garviel, and I swear I will listen,' promised Horus.

'With respect, sir, you should not be here leading this speartip and we should not be going into that vessel without proper reconnaissance. We have three of the Mechanicum's greatest war machines behind us. Can we not at least let them soften up the target first with their cannons?'

Horus chuckled. 'You have a thinker's head on you, my son, but wars are not won by thinkers, they are won by men of action. It has been too long since I wielded a blade and fought in such a battle - against abominations that seeknothing more than our utter destruction. I told you on Murder that had I felt I could not take to the field of battle again, I would have refused the position of Warmaster.'

'The Mournival would have done this thing for you, sir,' said Loken. 'We carry your honour now.'

'You think my shoulders so narrow that I cannot bear it alone?' asked Horus, and Loken was shocked to see genuine anger in his stare.

'No, sir, all I mean is that you don't need to bear it alone.'

Horus laughed and broke the tension. His anger quite forgotten, he said, 'You're right of course, my son, but my glory days are not over, for I have many laurels yet to earn.'

The Warmaster set off once more. 'Mark my words, Garviel Loken, everything achieved thus far in this Crusade will pale into insignificance compared to what I am yet to do.'

Despite the Warmaster's insistence on leading the Astartes into the wreck, he consented to Loken's plan of allowing the Titans of the Legio Mortis to engage the target first. All three mighty war engines braced themselves and, at a command from the Warmaster, unleashed a rippling salvo of missiles and cannon fire into the massive ship. Flaring blooms of light and smoke rippled across the ship's immensity and it shuddered with each concussive impact. Fires caught throughout its hull, and thick plumes of acrid black smoke twisted skyward like signal beacons, as though the ship were trying to send a message to its former masters.

Once again, the Warmaster led from the front, the mist following mem in like a smoggy cape of yellow. Loken could still hear noises from behind them, but with the thunderous footfalls of the Titans, the crackling of the burning ship and their own splashing steps, it was impossible to be sure what he was hearing.