Deathwing by William King, David Pringle, Neil Jones

Chapter I
     
     
    Cloud Runner gazed on the
     wreckage of his home and
     felt like weeping. He closed
     his eyes
     and
     took
     three
     breaths,
     but when he looked again nothing
     had
     changed.
     He turned
     back towards
     the
     dropship
     Deathwing.
     Weasel-Fierce
     had
     just descended
     from the
     ramp. He gazed round
     ferally at what once
     had
     been
     Cloud Runner's
     village
     and brought
     his
     storm Bolter into attack position.
     A grin split his
     skull-White
     face.
     "Dark
     Angels,
     be
     wary.
     Death
     has
     walked
     here,"
     he
     said. The sun
     glistened
     off
     Weasel-Fierce's
     black
     Terminator
     armour.
     With
     his
     white
     hair
     and y-shaped scar-tattoos, he looked like the
     Eater of Bones
     come back to claim the
     world.
     

     
     
    Cloud
     Runner
     shook
     his
     head
     in
     disbelief.
     For
     two
     hundred
     years
     he
     had
     held
     the
     memory
     of
     this
     place
     in
     his
     mind. Although
     the
     Chapter was his home and
     the
     Battle Brothers
     were his
     family,
     he
     had
     always
     felt
     his
     spirit
     would
     return here
     when
     the
     Emperor
     granted
     him
     rest.
     He
     glanced
     in
     the
     direction of
     the
     burial
     mounds.
     They
     had
     been
     broken open.
     He
     made
     his
     way
     to
     the
     entrance.
     He could
     see
     that
     the
     bones
     had
     been
     broken
     and
     mangled.
     It
     was
     a blasphemy
     that
     only the
     bitterest
     of foes
     would perform. It marked the
     ending
     of his clan. "The
     ghosts
     of my
     ancestors wander homeless."
     he said. "They
     will become drinkers of blood
     and
     eaters
     of excrement. My clan is
     dishonoured."
     He felt
     a
     heavy, gauntleted
     hand
     on
     his
     shoulder
     and
     turned
     to
     see
     Lame
     Bear
     gazing
     down
     on
     him.
     Two
     centuries
     ago Cloud Runner and
     he had
     belonged
     to enemy clans.
     Now the
     clansmen who they
     had
     fought
     alongside
     were
     dead,
     and the
     old rivalry had
     long ago
     become fast
     friendship.
    "The
     Dark Angels
     are your
     people
     now." said
     Lame Bear in his soft
     voice. 'If necessary
     we will avenge
     this
     dishonour" Cloud
     Runner
     shook
     his
     head.
     "That
     is
     not
     the
     Way.
     The
     Warriors
     From
     The
     Sky
     are
     above
     the
     squabblings
     of
     the clans.
     We
     choose
     only
     the bravest
     of
     the
     mains
     People.
     We
     take
     no sides."
     "Your
     words
     do
     honour
     to
     the
     Chapter. Brother Captain,"
     said
     Lame Bear. stooping
     to pick up something
     that
     lay in the
     grass.
     Cloud
     Runner
     saw
     that
     it
     was
     a metal axe-head. Sorrow warred with curiosity
     and
     won. "This
     was not
     the
     homecoming
     I
     had
     imagined."
     Cloud
     Runner said
     softly.
     "Where
     are
     children
     gathering
     flowers
     for
     the
     Autumn
     Feast?
     Where
     are
     the young
     bucks
     racing
     out
     to count
     coup
     on
     our
     armour?
     Where
     are
     the
     spirit-talkers
     who
     wish
     to
     commune
     with
     us?
     Dead.
     All
     dead."
     Lame
     Bear limped away leaving Cloud Runner alone with his grief.
     
* * *
     
    Two Heads
     Talking studied
     the desiccated
     bodies
     within
     the
     lodge.
     One
     had
     been
     an
     old
     warrior.
     His
     shrivelled
     hand still
     clutched
     a
     stone
     axe
     inscribed with
     the
     thunderbird
     rune.
     The
     other
     had
     been
     a
     squaw.
     Between
     her
     skeletal fingers
     was
     the
     neck
     of
     an
     infant.
     "She
     strangled
     the
     child
     rather
     than
     let
     her
     fall
     into
     the
     hands
     of
     the
     enemy."
     said Bloody Moon.
     The Librarian noticed
     the
     undercurrent
     of horror in the
     Marine's
     voice. He took
     a
     deep
     breath,