Arrogant af

The Wolf King burst out laughing. 'Again you surprise me. You are a bold one, Garviel Loken, in being so honest. Now, the most important thing you must tell me.' Russ leaned forwards in his throne, his eyes narrowed. 'Can I kill him? Can I kill the Warmaster?'

Before Loken could answer, Russ went on. 'In the old days, in the Crusade I thought I could beat most of my brothers. Maybe not Sanguinius. In him there is a fine blend of skill and fury. He is a baresark in angel's garb. Or the Night Haunter, for he has the heedless power of the insane. But the others… Angron? He's too angry. Fulgrim?' He shrugged. 'Too proud. Perturabo and Dorn are too stolid. Guilliman is too stern to enjoy battle and so I would beat him too. Lorgar I could spit on and that would drop him into the dirt, he's so weak from all that kneeling. Alpharius is a wretched serpent. And we all know what happened to the great sorcerer of Prospero. The rest I could defeat as easily as this.' He snapped his fingers. 'Horus though,' he grimaced. 'Put to it, one on one, I could have beaten him. It would have been hard, and close fought, and had fortune favoured him over me, he would have triumphed. But the feat was within my grasp. So tell me, Garviel Loken, is it now? Can I still kill him?'

Loken's face tightened. Russ was proud, they said. He looked from the corners of his eyes at the wolf lords around him. Proud barbarians with an over-developed sense of honour were easy to insult. But they also said Russ was no fool.

Loken made his choice. 'No,' he said. 'You cannot beat him. Not like he is now. I do not think anyone can, save perhaps the Emperor Himself.

Wolfsbane