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inquisitorial investigators ascertained that the whole business had begun only sixty years before, when an unrecorded space hulk had swung through the system. It had taken only three generations for the stealers to infect a whole world. For that is how they reproduce – by turning people into hosts for their offspring. Their victims endure this willingly, due to the stealers’ hypnotic powers. Many nights I have lain awake wondering whether we could have saved the world if only we had arrived sooner. Perhaps if we had been able to eliminate the stealers before the cancer had spread, we would not have had to order the Exterminatus.’
    Cloud Runner could see that the warriors had been swayed and angered by Lame Bear’s tale.
    He could tell that they were considering the assimilation of the people as breeding stock and the possibility that, by swift action, they might prevent it.
    ‘Let us go,’ said Weasel-Fierce, leaping to his feet. ‘Let us enter the city and kill the stealers’ spawn.’
    Several other warriors made to accompany him.
    ‘Wait,’ said Bloody Moon. ‘The gathering is not over and I would speak…’
    A NGER AND IMPATIENCE drove Two Heads Talking toward the sound of pain. By the bank of the river, in the shadow of a monstrous factory, he saw that a group of bluecoats had pinned an old man against the wall and were slowly and surely beating him to death with their truncheons. One of their number held a lantern, occasionally giving a calm, precise order.
    ‘Talk seditious nonsense, would you?’ said one bravo. His stroke ended with the crack of breaking ribs. The old man groaned and fell to his knees. The other bluecoats laughed.
    ‘Preach heresy against the Imperial cult and the warriors from the sky, eh? What makes you old fools do it? By the Emperor, I thought we had got the last of you.’
    Their victim looked up at them. ‘You are deluded. The warriors from the sky would not have built this place and herded us here the way elks are herded to the slaughter. Nor would they have broken the burial mounds of our people. Your masters are evil spirits summoned by the hill clans, not true sky warriors. Deathwing will return and rend them asunder.’
    ‘Silence, blaspheming no-name,’ said the leader of the blue-coats. ‘You wish to prove your courage, do you? Perhaps we should return to the old ways, drunkard, and practise the weasel claw ritual on you.’
    The old man coughed blood. ‘Do what you will. I am Morning Star of the line of Running Deer and Silver Elk. I have the witching sight. I tell you that the spirits walk. Ancient powers stalk the land. The red star burns bright in the sky. A time of trouble is coming.’
    ‘Is that why you chose to start ranting this night? I had thought the only spirits that talked to you came from a bottle,’ said another bluecoat, kicking Morning Star in the ribs. The old man groaned. Two Heads Talking made his way forward through the mist, till he emerged into the lantern light.
    The bluecoat leader spoke to him. ‘Go away, buck. This is warrior lodge business. If you don’t want to join this drunkard in the river, you’ll leave now.’
    ‘You dishonour the idea of the warrior lodge,’ said Two Heads Talking quietly. ‘Depart now, and I will spare you. Remain a heartbeat longer, and I will surely grant you death.’
    The old man looked up at him, awestruck. Two Heads Talking could see the winged skull tattoo of a shaman on his forehead. A few bravos laughed. Some, the wiser ones, heard the soft menace in the Marine’s voice and backed away. The leader gestured for the bluecoats to attack. ‘Take him!’ Two Heads Talking parried the swipe of a truncheon with his forearm. There was a metallic ring as the bludgeon snapped. He broke the bravo’s nose against the butt of his force axe then lashed out with his foot, driving it into another bluecoat’s stomach with inhuman force. As the man bent double the librarian chopped down on his neck, breaking