Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
The Horus Heresy
Dramatis Personae
PART ONE
Prologue
I
One
II
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
III
PART TWO
IV
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
V
PART THREE
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
VI
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Legal
eBook license
The Horus Heresy
It is a time of legend.
Mighty heroes battle for the right to rule the galaxy. The vast armies of the Emperor of Earth have conquered the galaxy in a Great Crusade – the myriad alien races have been smashed by the Emperor’s elite warriors and wiped from the face of history.
The dawn of a new age of supremacy for humanity beckons.
Gleaming citadels of marble and gold celebrate the many victories of the Emperor. Triumphs are raised on a million worlds to record the epic deeds of his most powerful and deadly warriors.
First and foremost amongst these are the primarchs, superheroic beings who have led the Emperor’s armies of Space Marines in victory after victory. They are unstoppable and magnificent, the pinnacle of the Emperor’s genetic experimentation. The Space Marines are the mightiest human warriors the galaxy has ever known, each capable of besting a hundred normal men or more in combat.
Organised into vast armies of tens of thousands called Legions, the Space Marines and their primarch leaders conquer the galaxy in the name of the Emperor.
Chief amongst the primarchs is Horus, called the Glorious, the Brightest Star, favourite of the Emperor, and like a son unto him. He is the Warmaster, the commander-in-chief of the Emperor’s military might, subjugator of a thousand thousand worlds and conqueror of the galaxy. He is a warrior without peer, a diplomat supreme.
As the flames of war spread through the Imperium, mankind’s champions will all be put to the ultimate test.
Dramatis Personae
The Primarchs
Lorgar, Primarch of the Word Bearers
Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines
Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons
Corax, Primarch of the Raven Guard
Konrad Curze, Primarch of the Night Lords
Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Iron Hands
Perturabo, Primarch of the Iron Warriors
The Word Bearers Legion
Kor Phaeron, First Captain
Erebus, First Chaplain
Deumos, Master of the Serrated Sun Chapter
Argel Tal, Captain, 7th Assault Company
Xaphen, Chaplain, 7th Assault Company
Torgal, Sergeant, Torgal Assault Squad
Malnor, Sergeant, Malnor Assault Squad
Dagotal, Sergeant, Dagotal Outrider Squad
The Crimson Lord, Commander of the Gal Vorbak
The Night Lords Legion
Sevatar, First Captain
Legio Custodes
Aquillon, Occuli Imperator, ‘Eyes of the Emperor’, Custodian
Vendatha, Custodian
Kalhin, Custodian
Nirllus, Custodian
Sythran, Custodian
The 301st Expedition Fleet
Baloc Torvus, Master of the Fleet
Arric Jesmetine, Major, Euchar 54th Infantry
Imperial Personae
Cyrene Valantion, Confessor of the Word
Ishaq Kadeen, Official remembrancer, imagist
Absolom Cartik, Personal astropath to the Occuli Imperator
Legio Cybernetica
Incaradine, Conqueror Primus of the 9th Maniple, Carthage Cohort
Xi-Nu 73, Tech-Adept of the 9th Maniple, Carthage Cohort
Non-Imperial Personae
Ingethel, Emissary of the Primordial Truth
PART ONE
GREY
Forty-three years before the events of Isstvan V
‘Kill me then, “Emperor”. Better to die in freedom’s twilight than draw breath at the dawn of tyranny. May the gods grant me my last wish: that my spirit lingers long enough to laugh when your faithless kingdom at last falls apart.’
– Daival Shan, Terran separatist
warlord, at his execution.
‘If a man gathers ten thousand suns in his hands... If a man seeds a hundred thousand worlds with his sons and daughters, granting them custody of the galaxy itself... If a man guides a million vessels between the infinite stars with a mere thought... Then I pray you tell me, if you are able, how such a man is anything less than a god.’
– Lorgar Aurelian, Primarch
of the Word Bearers
‘There is no surer sign of decay in a country than to see the rites of religion held in contempt.’
– Nikollo Makiavelli, Ancient
Eurasian philosopher
Prologue
The Grey Warrior
His sisters wept when the Legion came for him. At the time, he couldn’t understand why. There was no greater honour than to be chosen, so their sorrow made no sense.
The grey warrior’s voice was a machine’s rasp, deep and laden with static as he spoke from behind a death mask. He demanded to know the boy’s name.
Before the mother answered him, she asked a question of her own. It was her way to stand straight and strong, never to be bowed by the things she saw. It was a strength she had passed on to her son, and would stay in his blood despite the many changes to come.
She asked the question with a smile. ‘I will tell you his name, warrior. But first, will you tell me yours?’
The grey warrior looked down upon the family, meeting the eyes of the parents only once before he stole their child.
‘Erebus,’ he intoned. ‘My name is Erebus.’
‘Thank you, Lord Erebus. This is my son,’ she gestured to her boy. ‘Argel Tal.’
I
False Angels
I remember the Day of Judgement.
Can you imagine looking up and seeing the stars fall from the sky? Can you imagine the heavens themselves raining fire upon the world below?
You say you can picture it. I don’t believe you. I’m not speaking of war. I’m not speaking of promethium’s stinging oil-scent, or the burning chemical reek of flames born from missile fire. Forget battle’s crude pains and the sensory assault of orbital bombardment. I am not speaking of mundane savagery – the incendiary ills men inflict upon other men.