Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第42部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

ve　those　ends；
then　that　was　a　small　price　to　pay　for　immortality。
Such　a　prize　would　be　worth　risking　everything　for。　To　travel　in　realms　beyond　the　ken　of　mortal　men；　where　nothing　was　denied
and　every　possibility　could　be　played　out　was　a　dream　Forrix　could　well　understand。　His　flinty　gaze　locked　with　Kelmaur's。
'Tell　no　one　what　you　have　told　me；　or　the　Warsmith　shall　hear　of　your　folly。'
'He　would　not　believe　you；'　whined　Kelmaur。
'That　is　irrelevant。　If　the　Warsmith　even　suspects　you　have　deceived　him；　he　will　kill　you。　You　know　this　to　be　true；'　promised
Forrix；　stalking　from　the　tent。
Now；　deep　in　the　dim　tunnels　below　the　planet's　surface；　Forrix　watched　as　a　gang　of　emaciated　slaves　dragged　back　another　load
of　excavated　soil。　The　tunnel　was　advancing　and　soon　the　Iron　Warriors　would　be　inside　the　citadel。
Forrix　smiled；　picturing　the　limitless　possibilities　ahead　of　him。
LARANA　UTORIAN　WATCHED　as　Kroeger　placed　his　helmet　on　the　iron　frame　and　stood　naked　before　her。　His　body　was　a　mass　of
scar　tissue；　his　slab…like　muscles　powerful　and　well…defined。　But　she　had　a　sense　of　diminishment；　a　sense　that　without　his　armour
he　was　somehow　less　terrifying。
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
His　voice　was　dull　and　lethargic；　and　as　always　after　his　slaughters；　his　movements　were　sluggish；　as　though　bloated　with　the
blood　he　had　consumed　in　his　butcheries。
She　kept　her　hand　tucked　within　her　jacket；　its　flesh　pink　and　raw　where　she　had　worn　the　gauntlet。　The　skin　still　burned　with　the
sensations　that　had　wracked　her　body　as　renewing　fire　seared　her　from　the　inside　out。　Already；　she　felt　her　strength　returning。
New　flesh　filled　her；　monstrous　vitality　pulsing　through　every　fibre　of　her　being；　strength　coursing　along　every　artery　and　vein。
Her　heart　pumped　with　power　and　she　saw　with　a　clarity　she　had　never　experienced　before。
The　sense　of　impending　revenge　was　intoxicating　and　she　had　to　keep　the　excitement　from　her　face　as　Kroeger　sullenly　bade　her
once　more　clean　his　armour。　He　stumbled　towards　a　corner　of　the　dugout　and　collapsed　into　blood…gorged　unconsciousness。
Larana　calmly　approached　the　corrupted　armour；　feeling　its　soundless　call。　She　smiled　as　she　felt　its　silent　approval　and　removed
the　gauntlet　she　had　first　worn：　lifting　it　to　her　lips　and　sucking　on　the　fingers；　tasting　the　blood　and　feeling　its　power　suffuse　her。
Yes；　the　blood　is　the　power；　it　fills　you；　drives　you。　It　carries　your　passions；　your　lusts；　your　hate　and　your　future。　Only　the　blood
can　save　you。
Larana　nodded；　the　words　making　complete　sense　to　her。　She　could　see　clearly　now。　To　survive；　she　must　look　to　whatever　power
offered　her　a　chance　to　exact　her　revenge。
She　thrust　her　hand　into　the　gauntlet；　throwing　her　head　back　in　rapture　as　power　flooded　her　limbs；　hot　and　urgent。　The　skin　of
her　arm　stretched　as　muscle　tissue　grew　and　swelled；　layering　upon　her　bones　with　grotesque　speed。
Yes！　Yes！　Now　the　rest　and　our　bargain　will　be　sealed…
Piece　by　piece；　Larana　removed　Kroeger's　armour　from　its　frame；　donning　each　piece　without　conscious　thought。　Though
designed　for　a　warrior　far　larger　than　her；　each　portion　fitted　her　exactly。　Strength　poured　through　her　and　Larana　laughed　as　her
body　swelled　with　terrible　power。
As　each　piece　adhered　to　her　body；　she　felt　the　armour　become　more　and　more　part　of　her；　its　undulating　inner　surfaces　moulding
to　her　own　body；　dark　tendrils　of　energy　pushing　inside　her。
Deep　within　Larana；　a　tiny　voice　screamed　in　warning；　but　it　was　lost　in　the　howling　gale　of　powerful　change　that　remoulded　her。
It　shrieked　to　her　of　the　price　to　be　paid　for　such　abominable　gifts；　but　consumed　with　hate；　Larana　pushed　it　aside。
One　last　step；　Larana。　One　last　bargain　to　be　made。　You　must　give　me　all；　hold　nothing　back。　Your　soul　must　be　mine　and　then　we
shall　be　one。　We　shall　become　the　Avatar　of　Khorne！
Larana　lifted　the　grinning；　skull…masked　helm　and　slowly　lowered　it　over　her　head。
'Yes；'　she　hissed。　'Take　it　all。　I　am　yours…'
And　the　warning　voice　within　Larana　was　pushed　to　the　lid　of　her　creaking　skull　as　the　Armour　of　Khorne　claimed　her。
Her　last　act　as　a　human　being　was　to　scream　as　for　one　terrifying　instant　she　realised　the　scale　of　the　mistake　she　had　just　made。
KROEGER　WOKE　SUDDENLY；　a　scream　dying　on　his　lips　as　he　rose　from　a　dreamless　void；　terrifying　in　the　oblivion　it　promised。　His
breath　came　in　short；　dry　heaves　and　it　took　long　seconds　before　he　could　remember　where　he　was。　Dim　light　filtered　into　the
dugout　from　the　doorway；　and　Kroeger　was　suddenly　struck　by　a　sense　of　something　deeply　wrong。
He　pushed　himself　to　his　feet　and　padded　through　to　the　entrance　of　his　dugout。　Shadows　coiled　and　his　belief　that　there　was
something　amiss　grew　to　a　raging　certainty。　He　reached　for　his　sword；　his　fury　growing　as　he　saw　that　it　was　missing。　Had　the
little　human　bitch　taken　it？　She　would　pay　for　such　a　transgression　with　her　life。
Suddenly　Kroeger　became　aware　that　he　was　not　alone　in　the　dugout　and　he　turned　around　slowly。　There　was　a　gloom　here　that
was　not　wholly　natural　and　he　squinted；　trying　to　make　sense　out　of　what　he　saw　before　him。　His　armour　stood　where　he　had　left
it；　but　there　was　something　different…　It　took　him　several　seconds　before　he　realised　what。
There　was　someone　wearing　it。　And　they　carried　his　sword。
'Whoever　you　are；　you　are　dead；'　promised　Kroeger。
The　intruder　shook　its　head。　'No；　Kroeger；　you　are。　We　grow　weary　of　you；　and　have　no　more　need　of　you。'
Kroeger　started　as　he　recognised　the　voice。　But　it　was　impossible。　It　could　not　be　her；　not　that　weak　snivelling　human。
She　would　pay　for　such　impudence。　He　launched　himself　forward；　club…like　fists　raised　to　strike　her　down。　The　woman　swayed
aside；　slashing　the　sword　across　his　flank；　the　blade　biting　a　hand's…breadth　into　his　flesh。　Kroeger　roared；　blood　washing　in　a
crimson　flood　from　his　body。
Before　he　could　recover；　the　sword　struck　again；　ripping　through　his　belly　and　spilling　his　looping　guts　to　the　earthen　floor　of　the
dugout。　Kroeger　dropped　to　his　knees；　a　pleading　look　in　his　eyes。　The　sword　came　at　him　again　and　he　vainly　raised　his　hands　to
ward　off　the　blows。
The　armoured　warrior　spared　him　no　mercy；　hacking　him　into　pieces。　First　came　his　hands；　then　his　arms。　Kroeger　flopped　onto
his　back；　amidst　his　severed　limbs　and　pooling　blood　as　the　woman　knelt　astride　him　and　cast　aside　the　sword。
With　deliberate　slowness；　the　warrior　removed　the　helmet　and　Kroeger　coughed　thick　gobbets　of　blood　as　he　saw　the　reborn　face
of　Larana　Utorian。
Gone　was　the　terrified　woman　he　had　tortured　these　long　weeks；　and　in　its　place　was　a　twisted　face；　devoid　of　pity　or　mercy。　A
face　so　full　of　hate　that　it　chilled　him　to　the　very　core　of　his　being。
She　raised　her　arms　high　above　her　head；　a　dulled　bone　knife　gripped　in　both　hands。
The　thing　that　had　once　been　Larana　Utorian　plunged　the　knife　through　Kroeger's　eye　socket　and　into　his　brain；　stabbing　again　and
again　until　there　was　nothing　left　of　her　tormentor's　skull　but　a　pulverised　mass　of　shattered　bone　and　matter。
FORRIX　CONSULTED　A　dust…covered　data…slate；　checking　on　the　position　of　the　mine；　content　it　was　following　the　correct　path。　The
tunnel　had　traversed　beneath　the　ditch　and　he　expected　to　be　under　the　walls　within　the　hour。　He　stepped　over　the　corpse　of　a　slave
and　watched　the　activity　on　the　rockface　before　him。　The　drilling　rigs　could　not　work　this　close　to　the　wall　for　fear　of　Imperial
detection　and　so　gangs　of　slaves　worked　with　cloth…wrapped　picks　and　shovels　to　extend　the　tunnel。
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
Human　soldiers　guarded　the　slaves　with　barbed　cudgels　and　electro…prods。　It　was　a　pleasing　irony　that　these　fools　were
precipitating　their　own　species'　downfall。
Satisfied　that　all　was　proceeding　as　planned；　Forrix　made　his　way　back　along　the　hot　tunnel；　pushing　past　teams　of　cowering
slaves。　He　passed　various　galleries　and　blind　passages　designed　to　disguise　the　true　direction　of　their　attack　from　the　Imperial
sappers。
Iron　props　supported　the　roof　of　the　tunnel　and　sound　absorbent　mats　were　laid　along　its　length。　Forrix　was　taking　no　chances　that
this　tunnel　might　be　discovered；　though　he　knew　that　the　enemy　must　be　aware　of　the　tunnelling　operation。　There　was　always　the
chance　the　Imperials　might　discover　it　through　blind　luck。
Forrix　had　prayed　they　would　not　and　that　his　successful　demolition　of　a　portion　of　the　curtain　wall　would　restore　his　master's
favour。
He　had　not　seen　the　Warsmith　since　the　destruction　of　the　batteries。　The　lord　of　the　Iron　Warriors　had　retreated　within　his　pavilion
and　had　allowed　only　Jharek　Kelmaur　into　his　presence。　He　didn't　know　whether　the　Warsmith　was　aware　of　Kelmaur's　folly；　but
he　fully　intended　that　he　would　learn　of　it。　The　idea　of　the　sorcerer's　downfall　was　only　marginally　more　appealing　to　him　than
Honsou's。　Why　the　Warsmith　had　allowed　the　half…breed　to　live　after　Forrix　had　told　him　that　it　was　Honsou's　failure　that　had　cost
them　the　guns　on　Tor　Christo　was　a　mystery　to　him。
Thinking　of　Honsou　brought　his　anger　to　the　fore　again；　and　he　vowed　the　ungrateful　half…breed　would　pay　in　blood　for　his
usurping　of　Forrix　in　the　Warsmith's　favour。
Consumed　with　resentment；　Forrix　almost　didn't　hear　the　noises　from　the　rockface　until　it　was　too　late。　Screams　and　the　crash　of
stone　startled　him　from　his　bitter　reverie　and　he　threw　aside　the　data…slate　as　he　realised　what　was　happening。
He　grabbed　the　nearest　soldier；　shouting；　'Go　to　the　surface　and　send　warning。　The　tunnel　is　under　attack！'
Forrix　dropped　the　terrified　soldier；　who　scrambled　away　from　the　giant　Terminator　and　sprinted　back　along　the　tunnel　in　panic。
Forrix　heard　the　crack　of　gunfire　and　screams　echoing　through　the　mine　and　activated　his　power　fist；　the　crackling　blue　arcs　of
energy　throwing　the　darkness　of　the　tunnel　into　stark　relief。
The　rapid　firing　of　automatic　weapons　grew　louder　as　he　strode　through　the　tunnel；　combi…bolter　at　the　ready。　A　group　of　human
soldiers　ran　towards　him；　dropping　their　electro…prods　and　clubs　as　they　ran　in　terror　from　the　rock…face。　Throngs　of　slaves　fled
alongside　them。　Forrix　shot　them　down　in　a　hail　of　bolts；　stepping　over　their　shredded　bodies　as　he　fought　his　way　forward。
Ahead；　he　saw　five　figures　in　yellow　power　armour　beneath　a　hole　blasted　in　the　cavern　roof；　standing　in　a　ring　of　dead　bodies。
Two　Space　Marines　were　advancing　towards　him；　while　the　others　prepared　explosives　to　bring　down　the　tunnel　before　it　could
reach　the　citadel's　wall。　Forrix　opened　fire　before　they　saw　him；　the　sound　of　his　weapon　deafening　in　such　a　confined　space。　One
Imperial　Fist　dropped；　a　series　of　red　craters　torn　in　his　breastplate。
Ricochets　blew　out　the　glow…globes；　sputtering　light　casting　lunatic　shadows　over　the　tunnel　walls。　The　second　Space　Marine
dropped　into　a　crouch　and　returned　fire　with　his　bolt　pistol。　The　impacts　hammered　against　Forrix's　breastplate；　but　Terminator
armour　had　been　designed　for　just　this　kind　of　close…quarters　fighting　and　not　a　single　bolt　could　penetrate　the　thick　armour。
Forrix　shot　again；　swinging　his　power　fist。　The　warrior　ducked　and　rolled　aside；　Forrix's　blow　smashing　apart　an　iron　prop　and
pulverising　a　huge　section　of　wall。　Ro