Warhammer 40K - [Ultramarines 06] - The Chapter's Due by Graham McNeill (Undead) (v1.0) by me

Author:me
Format: epub

THIRTEEN

The daemons attacked as the sunlight began to set over the Lirian Mountains, bathing the Capena Gorge in a ruddy glow. Tigurius fought down the sickness in his gut and forced himself to concentrate on the surging horde. They came from the motionless bolt of lightning in a tide of daemonic flesh, a host of bestial monstrosities of all description.

“Front rank, open fire!” came the shout from the walls, and Tigurius looked up to see the strained faces of the mortal defenders of Castra Tanagra. A haphazard mix of civilians and Chapter serfs, they stood shoulder to shoulder, united in the defence of this world, and he took heart from their courage. Their lines were bolstered by the presence of veteran Space Marines and First Captain Agemman. The Regent of Ultramar was a thunderous presence, a rock upon which the defence of the walls rested.

A synchronous volley of gunfire reached out to the daemonic horde. Bolter shells, las-fire and hard rounds ripped through their enemies, but for each monster destroyed, there were many more to take its place. Tigurius moved to the centre of the great breach, where Marneus Calgar and his honour guard had positioned themselves. The Chapter Master was a magnificent sight in the Armour of Antilochus, with the Gauntlets of Ultramar wreathed in killing fire at his sides.

“Ready to do this again?” asked Calgar, as Tigurius took his place at his side. “I am,” replied Tigurius, through in truth he was bone weary. The past two weeks had been gruelling for all of them, but Tigurius had felt the exhaustion more keenly than most. His powers were anathema to the daemons, but every usage took more and more out of him, more than even his prodigious physique could easily restore. Denied the meditative calm of the Librarius, each battle took longer to recover from, and the daemons were giving them little enough time between each attack. “I know that is a lie,” said Calgar. “But you are needed. Now more than ever.” Tigurius nodded. Hundreds had already died in defence of Castra Tanagra, and scores of wounded filled the keep, which had become a makeshift Apothecarion. Those too old or too young to fight tended to the injured soldiers, but without much in way of medical supplies, most would likely die. It was a depressing thought, and Tigurius returned his attention to the daemons. They were scaled and hideous, howling with maddening hunger and lust, their bodies lambent and filled with unnatural energy. They were wasted, wind-borne things, sustained by the energy of the daemon lord that dwelled in the corrupt star fort above them. Some were armed with black bladed swords that could cut flesh and armour with equal ease, but most needed only their claws and warp-strength to tear and rend.

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But facing them were the greatest warriors in the galaxy.

A solid wall of Ultramarines filled the breach as surely as any barrier of stone, each warrior clad in fabulously ornate armour and bearing a glittering blade of antiquity.

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