The Space Wolf Omnibus - William King

by Warhammer 40K

  The two men glared at each other, and for a brief moment Ragnar felt that they might come to blows. He watched with interest. He had no doubts as to who would win under those circumstances.

  Karah Isaan, witnessing the mounting tension, looked from one to the other and back. ‘There is no need for this. We are not enemies here. We all wish to serve the Imperium.’ She gazed meaningfully at Sternberg. ‘Perhaps the sergeant has a point. Perhaps recovering the talisman is not possible.’

  ‘And perhaps it is. We should at least endeavour to find out,’ Sternberg insisted.

  Ragnar could see the sergeant nod. He could tell Hakon was considering the inquisitor’s words. He wondered whether Isaan was using any of her mind tricks on him. He did not think so. There was no sense of any power flowing here and he was sure he would notice. Unless, of course, he told himself, the power was being used to ensure that he did not. He pushed the thought aside; he doubted whether that was even possible.

  ‘Are there any alternatives?’ he heard himself start to say. ‘Could we not wait for the fleet to arrive and then bring down a strike force from orbit?’

  ‘Time is of the essence,’ Sternberg said with a shake of his head. ‘Who knows how long it will take the fleet to fight its way into position to allow our forces to make planetfall?’

  ‘If nothing else, we can be advance scouts for the invasion,’ said Hakon. Ragnar could tell he was starting to warm to the plan.

  ‘Perhaps we should see where the other talisman is,’ Isaan suggested.

  ‘I think we can all agree on that,’ said Sternberg.

  His companion reached up to touch the amulet, where it dangled from her neck. ‘I will do so at once.’

  Inquisitor Isaan emerged from the chamber in which she had performed her ritual. Ragnar did not need her scent to tell him she was troubled. Her face wore a frown and her dark eyes were slitted in thought.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked. The others were silent, waiting for her answer.

  ‘Something strange is happening,’ she said. ‘I could sense it through the link. I think the ork chieftain is starting to use the talisman’s powers. He has found some way of tapping into them.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Hakon asked.

  ‘I do not know exactly what yet,’ she said. ‘But I doubt that it can mean anything else but trouble.’

  Somehow Ragnar was not surprised to hear this. ‘Where now?’

  ‘The orks are south of here, along the river. I saw a city under siege.’

  ‘Galt Prime,’ Brother Tethys spoke up. ‘Our capital.’

  From the distance came a sound like thunder. Ragnar wondered what it was. He turned his face to the sky and soon worked it out. Three long exhaust contrails slashed across the blue like a swipe from the claws of a giant cat. Even as Ragnar watched he noticed the dots that were the source of the vapour. They grew in his field of vision until he could see that they were stubby winged, crudely fabricated aircraft.

  ‘Get down,’ he yelled. And threw himself flat.

  Karah did the same. The ork warplanes passed directly over the temple complex. They were flying low, looking for something.

  ‘I think we should get as far from here as we can before the orks start looking for us,’ said Karah.

  Ragnar could see she was scared. He did not blame her. He too wondered if it was a coincidence that the ork craft had appeared so soon after she had made her psychic link with the ork warlord. Perhaps if she could sense him, he could sense her. It was not a reassuring thought.

  Bringing a reluctant Brother Tethys with them, they ventured into the maze of tunnels within the walls of the huge stone pyramids. It was quiet and cool and the walls blocked off all sounds from outside. Ragnar wondered how safe this was, and then realised it didn’t matter much. If the orks were looking for them, it was most likely safer than being in the jungle. Ork troops would be out there right now, trying to pick up a trail.

  Brother Tethys held one of the ancients’ ever-burning glowglobes in his hand. The light made the pinkish fingers of his flesh seem translucent. It was an illusion Ragnar had seen before but nonetheless a potent one. All around him he was aware of the smell of death. He noticed that the walls were full of alcoves and in each alcove lay a desiccated corpse. This was obviously some sort of burial place. Beneath each alcove was carved the name of a monk, in Imperial runes, to make them sacred but there was no air of holiness about this place, no smell of sanctity. It was a boneyard, pure and simple, and they were heading ever deeper into the middle of it.

  ‘The temples are huge,’ Tethys said. ‘They have been sinking underground for years. The pyramids you have seen on the surface are only part of much larger structures beneath the grounds. They go down a long way. We could hide here for months and never be found.’

  ‘Not much food down here…’ Sven muttered only half-seriously.

  ‘There’s always this salted meat,’ Nils said, gesturing towards the corpses. Hearing the sharp intakes of breath from the inquisitors and the diminutive monk, he added hastily, ‘I was joking.’

  ‘We’ll have less of your humour, Brother Nils,’ Sergeant Hakon said.

  ‘How are we going to get to the fragment of the talisman?’ Ragnar asked, to break the tension.

  ‘These tunnels lead to the river; the river leads to the city of Galt Prime. We can take a boat down there towards the ork lines.’

  ‘Then what?’ Ragnar asked. He knew it was a question that had been on all the Blood Claws’ minds.

  ‘Then we’ll see,’ said Sergeant Hakon.

  ‘And how are we going to get down the river?’ asked Sven. ‘I don’t fancy swimming.’

  ‘Once we’re out of the temple complex we’ll build a raft and head downstream. According to Brother Tethys the current’s strong, so it shouldn’t be too much work.’

  ‘What if those warplanes come back?’ asked Nils.

  ‘We’ll spear that orka when we see it,’ Hakon said, then lapsed once more into silence.

  The river was broad and brown, and it stank. It reeked of rotting vegetation and algae and wastes pumped into it from the temple complex. Ragnar wondered how much longer that would happen. He doubted that the orks would maintain the machinery there. From what he had seen they had already begun the business of dismantling it all and incorporating it into their crude engines of destruction. As a race they seemed inveterate scavengers and tinkerers. Still there was no doubting that their primitive-looking devices worked. Those warplanes had been effective enough.

  Cloying mud sucked at his boots as they struggled along an overgrown pathway between the trees, away from the tunnel that had emerged in the riverbank. Once they were sufficiently far away from Xikar to feel safe they would begin the construction of their raft and start the perilous journey downstream. Ragnar felt eyes upon him and looked over to see Inquisitor Isaan was watching him thoughtfully.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said to her. ‘We’ll make it through safely.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ she replied. ‘The Emperor is watching over us.’

  She didn’t sound or smell as certain as her words implied, Ragnar thought. But she managed a smile and strode softly forward into the gathering gloom.

  The rafts were hefty enough to be stable, made from tree trunks cut down with chainswords and lashed together with constricting vine. The Wolves had made two of them, together with punting poles from the bamboo reeds that grew all along the jungle edge. Not that they were needed, Ragnar had seen: the current was strong enough to carry them at a speed well beyond that even a Space Marine could march at through the dense jungle.

  The expedition had split into two groups, one for each raft. On the leading raft were Inquisitor Sternberg, Sergeant Hakon, Strybjorn and Lars. On the second raft were Ragnar, Karah Isaan, Sven, Nils and Brother Tethys. Nils stood at the back of their raft, guiding it with the long bamboo pole. Lars was doing the same on the other raft.

  Even the threat of ork air patrols had receded. In m
any places the jungle was so overgrown and entangled that the huge multi-trunked banyan trees grew right over the river, blocking out all but a few blinding rays of sunlight. It was like sailing down a tunnel beneath the trees. It was as Brother Tethys had said. There were few of the greenskins left in the temple complex and they seemed to be savage and purposeless, mere flotsam left behind when the tide that was the great ork horde had moved on.

  The jungle was alive with life. Large, shaggy ape-like creatures crashed through the canopy overhead. Massive panther-sized beasts, mottled and six-limbed, lurked on the branches and studied them with enormous unblinking eyes. Now and again Ragnar caught sight of an enormous serpent-shape slithering through the branches. It must have been thirty strides long at least with a body thicker than an ale barrel. He wasn’t too troubled. There was no beast in this jungle he couldn’t handle. In his experience few natural living things were impervious to chainsword blades and bolter shells.

  He shook his head and told himself that such overconfidence was dangerous. What if he was attacked by surprise? Or while asleep? What if some creature was strong enough to crunch through his armour? He knew it was unlikely. His Space Wolf senses were such that they would alert him to almost any threat even while asleep. And ceramite would prove impervious to any natural fang or claw.

  Don’t be so certain, a part of him told himself. You don’t know that. Men have died in far less dangerous places than this by thinking the way you do. After all, he was a stranger here. What did he really know of this world? Some of the plants and animals were similar to those on Fenris, that was all.

  In a way this was hardly surprising. Most of their ancestors had probably come from distant Terra all of those tens of thousands of years ago during the first great human Diaspora, when Man had set out to colonise the galaxy and remake it in his own image. They were the descendants of those old creatures and plants, reshaped to fit their new homeworlds.

  Around the next great bend, huge, dusty brown reptiles basked along the riverbank, presumably some species of dragon. Their immense jaws looked as if they could down a man in one gulp – even one armoured in ceramite. Ragnar kept his hand near the holster of his bolt pistol as one of the creatures slithered down the muddy bank and into the water. For such a large creature it moved with surprising stealth, the splash it made when it entered the water would have been barely audible to any man save one with the enhanced hearing of a Space Wolf. The creature very much resembled a log as it floated down the river towards them. Ragnar could see that the colours of its leathery hide could almost have been designed to mimic old or rotting wood. He wondered how many innocent river fishermen had been deceived by that, how many animals that had come to the river to drink or cross the waters. Well, he was not fooled, and he could tell by the scent of his companions that they were not either.

  He looked at Sven and the inquisitor, who had already drawn their weapons. Nils held the pole one-handed and waited to see what the creature was intending to do. By the tension in his body Ragnar could tell he was ready to draw his pistol at a moment’s notice and open fire. A swift glance told him that the folk on the other raft had perceived the threat as well, and were ready to help. It seemed apparent that the monster would reach Ragnar’s raft first – and it was coming on quickly. Brother Tethys had finally noticed what was going on, and was unshouldering the autorifle.

  ‘Riverdragon!’ he almost shrieked as if everyone else were unaware of the threat. Ragnar laid a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ve seen it,’ he said. ‘Use the bolt pistol. It fires explosive shells. More effective against a creature this size.’

  If Tethys heard a word Ragnar said, he gave no sign of it. He reeked of panic. No, of terror. ‘Those things are dreadful, the scourge of the river. They pull you under and keep you there till you drown.’

  Ragnar wondered if that was a less pleasant death than being torn apart by those huge fangs and then gobbled up. He shook his head. He doubted that there were any pleasant deaths. The creature swam closer. Ragnar could see that its tiny-seeming legs, out of proportion to that huge body, were working beneath the water, and occasionally the thing propelled itself forward with a swish of its huge tail. He was beginning to get a sense of quite how large it was, probably twice as long as this whole raft. He was aware of the tiny, intelligent-seeming eyes gazing at him from either side of the beast’s snout. It was a chilling sight, and sent cold fingers of fear running up and down his spine.

  ‘By Russ, it’s bloody huge!’ Sven said. ‘Wonder what it tastes like. I’m getting fed up with tree bark and cockroaches.’

  ‘I’ve speared bigger orkas,’ Ragnar said, levelling his bolter and aiming it directly at the riverdragon’s eye.

  ‘Orkas don’t have teeth like that,’ Sven said.

  The riverdragon had opened its mouth and suddenly row upon row of yellowing tusk-like teeth, each as long as a dagger, became visible. Its features distorted and its eyes narrowed, making it hard to aim for them.

  ‘It’s like you, Sven,’ Nils said out of the corner of his mouth, drawing his bolt pistol and getting ready to shoot, never taking his eyes off the beast for a second.

  ‘What do you damn well mean by that?’

  ‘It opens its mouth and its head disappears.’

  ‘Ha bloody ha! Another crack like that and you’ll be joining it for a swim.’

  Ragnar heard further splashes from the riverbank and knew that more of the huge reptiles were dropping into the water. Suddenly the situation had become very threatening indeed, and he reckoned that his earlier confidence might have been a little misplaced. All the creature had to do was rear out of the water and it could smash the raft to flinders. He was reminded of the battle he had fought with the seadragon back on Fenris, what seemed half a lifetime and half the galaxy away.

  ‘Shut up and shoot!’ he said and opened fire. The roar of bolt pistols filled his ears as the Blood Claws joined in. Rocket contrails blazed towards the beast. Its flesh erupted where the shells bit into its leathery hide. The creature emitted a long, hissing screech but kept on coming. Ragnar wondered if the creature felt any pain or whether they had simply angered it. Looking at those jaws and the massive ropes of muscle on either side of them, he wasn’t so sure now that his armour could survive being bitten by them. He certainly had no great desire to find out.

  The beast kept swimming on through the hail of fire. The Space Wolves on the other ship had joined in now. Huge chunks of flesh were being blown out of the beast, and Ragnar was sure he could see the white of bone amidst the pale pink meat. Still the creature showed no sign of dying.

  Ragnar pulled the trigger again and again, hoping in vain to put a shell through the beast’s eye and blow out its brain. But its head was thrashing from side to side and it was difficult to aim precisely. The Wolf pulled the trigger rapidly, sending bolter shell after bolter shell hurtling towards the beast. Its leathery skin was torn and shredded, but to Ragnar’s awe the massive skull endured the pounding. What was the beast made of?

  He kept firing but risked a glance towards the riverbank. Three more of the huge beasts were coming ever closer, making no attempt at stealth. Their tails churned the water as they swept swiftly towards the fray. Ragnar wondered whether they were drawn to the commotion or by the smell of blood. He cursed under his breath. If one of the creatures was proving so hard to kill, he did not relish a conflict with four of them.

  ‘It’s too dumb to die!’ Nils shouted above the bolter blasts.

  ‘Just like you then!’ Sven snapped back.

  The creature was less than twenty strides away and closing fast. Ragnar’s mind raced. Perhaps a change of tactic was called for. ‘Inquisitor! Can you use your powers on it?’

  ‘I don’t know if it has a mind to affect,’ Isaan called back.

  ‘Don’t say it, Nils,’ shouted Sven. Then suddenly the beast was gone. A huge wave of water rippled towards them as it dived below the surface. For a moment on
ly the massive tail was visible and then it, too, had vanished.

  ‘Did we get it?’ Ragnar shouted.

  ‘Say what?’ asked Nils in a tone of innocent confusion.

  ‘I don’t think so!’ bellowed Sven, looking all around them.

  ‘I don’t like this at all,’ said Nils.

  Ragnar risked a glance towards the other beasts. They were less than a hundred strides away. Too close for comfort, Ragnar thought.

  ‘Watch out!’ Sergeant Hakon bellowed.

  What does he mean, Ragnar thought – and then felt the whole raft lurch upwards. He frantically tried to regain his balance as he tumbled towards the water. It occurred to him in that moment, exactly what had happened. The cunning beast had erupted from the water underneath them, lifting the whole raft into the air. Ragnar watched the jungle wheel about below him and then he shut his mouth as the murky water engulfed him.

  Desperately he fought to hold on to his bolt pistol. It was a terrible disgrace for a Space Marine to lose his weapon. The strangeness of that thought under the circumstances hit him. The water was a maelstrom of churning waves and bubbles. It was dark but nearby he could see the enormous shape of the riverdragon whirling to face them. When seen from the surface, the beast looked clumsy but once you were in the water with it, it suddenly seemed unbelievably sinuous, swift and agile. He glanced around and saw the others were also in the water, limbs fluttering as they tried to head towards the surface.

  He holstered his pistol and struck upwards himself. Keep calm, he told himself and prayed for the others to do the same. He knew that many brave seamen on Fenris had died in situations like this simply by making stupid mistakes. Sometimes in panic they swum downwards instead of up, pushing themselves ever deeper below the waters from which they were trying to escape. Ragnar wondered just how deep the river was here, then decided now was not the time to try and find out. His head broke the water. He saw some of the others bobbing to the surface near him.