Hammers of ulric, p.1
Hammers of Ulric, page 1
• THE LEGEND OF SIGMAR •
Graham McNeill
BOOK ONE: Heldenhammer
BOOK TWO: Empire
BOOK THREE: God King
• THE RISE OF NAGASH •
Mike Lee
BOOK ONE: Nagash the Sorcerer
BOOK TWO: Nagash the Unbroken
BOOK THREE: Nagash Immortal
• VAMPIRE WARS: THE VON CARSTEIN TRILOGY •
Steven Savile
BOOK ONE: Inheritance
BOOK TWO: Dominion
BOOK THREE: Retribution
• THE SUNDERING •
Gav Thorpe
BOOK ONE: Malekith
BOOK TWO: Shadow King
BOOK THREE: Caledor
• CHAMPIONS OF CHAOS •
Darius Hinks, S P Cawkwell & Ben Counter
BOOK ONE: Sigvald
BOOK TWO: Valkia the Bloody
BOOK THREE: Van Horstmann
• THE WAR OF VENGEANCE •
Nick Kyme, Chris Wraight & C L Werner
BOOK ONE: The Great Betrayal
BOOK TWO: Master of Dragons
BOOK THREE: The Curse of the Phoenix Crown
• MATHIAS THULMANN: WITCH HUNTER •
C L Werner
BOOK ONE: Witch Hunter
BOOK TWO: Witch Finder
BOOK THREE: Witch Killer
• ULRIKA THE VAMPIRE •
Nathan Long
BOOK ONE: Bloodborn
BOOK TWO: Bloodforged
BOOK THREE: Bloodsworn
• MASTERS OF STONE AND STEEL •
Gav Thorpe and Nick Kyme
BOOK ONE: The Doom of Dragonback
BOOK TWO: Grudge Bearer
BOOK THREE: Oathbreaker
BOOK FOUR: Honourkeeper
• THE TYRION & TECLIS OMNIBUS •
William King
BOOK ONE: Blood of Aenarion
BOOK TWO: Sword of Caldor
BOOK THREE: Bane of Malekith
• WARRIORS OF THE CHAOS WASTES •
C L Werner
BOOK ONE: Wulfrik
BOOK TWO: Palace of the Plague Lord
BOOK THREE: Blood for the Blood God
• KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE •
Various Authors
BOOK ONE: Hammers of Ulric
BOOK TWO: Reiksguard
BOOK THREE: Knight of the Blazing Sun
• WARLORDS OF KARAK EIGHT PEAKS •
Guy Haley & David Guymer
BOOK ONE: Skarsnik
BOOK TWO: Headtaker
BOOK THREE: Thorgrim
• SKAVEN WARS: THE BLACK PLAGUE TRILOGY •
C L Werner
BOOK ONE: Dead Winter
BOOK TWO: Blighted Empire
BOOK THREE: Wolf of Sigmar
• THE ORION TRILOGY •
Darius Hinks
BOOK ONE: The Vaults of Winter
BOOK TWO: Tears of Isha
BOOK THREE: The Council of Beasts
• BRUNNER THE BOUNTY HUNTER •
C L Werner
BOOK ONE: Blood Money
BOOK TWO: Blood & Steel
BOOK THREE: Blood of the Dragon
• THANQUOL & BONERIPPER •
C L Werner
BOOK ONE: Grey Seer
BOOK TWO: Thanquol’s Doom
BOOK THREE: Thanquol Triumphant
• HEROES OF THE EMPIRE •
Chris Wraight
BOOK ONE: Sword of Justice
BOOK TWO: Sword of Vengeance
BOOK THREE: Luthor Huss
• ELVES THE OMNIBUS •
Graham McNeill
BOOK ONE: Defenders of Ulthuan
BOOK TWO: Sons of Ellyrion
BOOK THREE: Guardians of the Forest
• GOTREK & FELIX THE FIRST OMNIBUS •
William King
BOOK ONE: Trollslayer
BOOK TWO: Skavenslayer
BOOK THREE: Daemonslayer
• GOTREK & FELIX THE SECOND OMNIBUS •
William King
BOOK ONE: Dragonslayer
BOOK TWO: Beastslayer
BOOK THREE: Vampireslayer
• GOTREK & FELIX THE THIRD OMNIBUS •
William King & Nathan long
BOOK ONE: Giantslayer
BOOK TWO: Orcslayer
BOOK THREE: Manslayer
• GOTREK & FELIX THE FOURTH OMNIBUS •
Nathan Long
BOOK ONE: Elfslayer
BOOK TWO: Shamanslayer
BOOK THREE: Zombieslayer
• Hallowed Knights •
Josh Reynolds
Book One: PLAGUE GARDEN
Book Two: BLACK PYRAMID
EIGHT LAMENTATIONS: SPEAR OF SHADOWS
Josh Reynolds
• Kharadron Overlords •
C L Werner
Book One: OVERLORDS OF THE IRON DRAGON
Book Two: PROFIT’S RUIN
RULERS OF THE DEAD
Josh Reynolds & David Annandale
SOUL WARS
Josh Reynolds
CALLIS & TOLL: THE SILVER SHARD
Nick Horth
THE TAINTED HEART
C L Werner
SHADESPIRE: THE MIRRORED CITY
Josh Reynolds
BLACKTALON: FIRST MARK
Andy Clark
HAMILCAR: CHAMPION OF THE GODS
David Guymer
SCOURGE OF FATE
Robbie MacNiven
THE RED FEAST
Gav Thorpe
GLOOMSPITE
Andy Clark
GHOULSLAYER
Darius Hinks
BEASTGRAVE
C L Werner
NEFERATA: THE DOMINION OF BONES
David Annandale
THE COURT OF THE BLIND KING
David Guymer
LADY OF SORROWS
C L Werner
REALM-LORDS
Dale Lucas
~ NOVELLAS ~
CITY OF SECRETS
Nick Horth
THIEVES’ PARADISE
Nick Horth
CODE OF THE SKIES
Graeme Lyon
THE MEASURE OF IRON
Jamie Crisalli
WARQUEEN
Darius Hinks
THE BONE DESERT
Robbie MacNiven
HEART OF WINTER
Nick Horth
~ AUDIO DRAMAS ~
• REALMSLAYER: A GOTREK GURNISSON SERIES •
David Guymer
Boxed Set One: REALMSLAYER
Boxed Set Two: BLOOD OF THE OLD WORLD
THE BEASTS OF CARTHA
David Guymer
FIST OF MORK, FIST OF GORK
David Guymer
GREAT RED
David Guymer
ONLY THE FAITHFUL
David Guymer
THE PRISONER OF THE BLACK SUN
Josh Reynolds
SANDS OF BLOOD
Josh Reynolds
THE LORDS OF HELSTONE
Josh Reynolds
THE BRIDGE OF SEVEN SORROWS
Josh Reynolds
WAR-CLAW
Josh Reynolds
SHADESPIRE: THE DARKNESS IN THE GLASS
Various authors
THE IMPRECATIONS OF DAEMONS
Nick Kyme
THE PALACE OF MEMORY AND OTHER STORIES
Various authors
Contents
Cover
Backlist
Title Page
Warhammer
Map
HAMMERS OF ULRIC
A Company of Wolves
The Dead Among Us
Catch as Catch Can
A Wolf in the Fold
The Bretonnian Connection
My Brother’s Keeper
Wolf’s Bane
Confession
Lone Wolf
Hammers of Ulric
About the Authors
An Extract from ‘Oaths & Conquests’
A Black Library Publication
eBook license
This is a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and of sorcery. It is an age of battle and death, and of the world’s ending. Amidst all of the fire, flame and fury it is a time, too, of mighty heroes, of bold deeds and great courage.
At the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largest and most powerful of the human realms. Known for its engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl-Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands, Sigmar, and wielder of his magical warhammer.
But these are far from civilised times. Across the length and breadth of the Old World, from the knightly palaces of Bretonnia to ice-bound Kislev in the far north, come rumblings of war. In the towering World’s Edge Mountains, the orc tribes are gathering for another assault. Bandits and renegades harry the wild southern lands of the Border Princes. There are rumours of rat-things, the skaven, emerging from the sewers and swamps across the land. And from the northern wildernesses there is the ever-present threat of Chaos, of daemons and beastmen corrupted by the foul powers of the Dark Gods.
As the time of battle draws ever near, the Empire needs heroe
INTRODUCTION
I haven’t visited the Old World as often as I would have liked. Over the years, the universe of the Imperium of Man has rather occupied my time. And, of course, these days, the Old World isn’t what it used to be.
But the realms of Warhammer have always held a strong appeal for me. They are realms of stories, and there are many I wish I’d got around to telling. When I have been able to pay those realms a visit, it’s often been in collaboration with other writers: the Gilead books that I wrote with Nik; the Darkblade novels I wrote with Mike. There were a couple of solo voyages too: the pirate yarn Fell Cargo, and the tale of Kislevite horsemen – Riders of the Dead – which remains a favourite in my mind.
Hammers of Ulric was definitely a collaborative voyage. Me, Nik and James, travelling together down the dark trails and shadowed forests of the Old World – in theory, it shouldn’t have worked. Three authors? Surely, that’s one broth and an overabundance of cooks? Worse still, we didn’t begin the journey together, or plan a route. We were all writing separate threads, as short stories for Inferno! [1] magazine. We didn’t set out as travelling companions.
But nevertheless we all arrived at the same place: the great city of Middenheim. All roads in the Old World lead there, sooner or later. The Black Library editorial team at the time (that time being twenty years ago, hence this anniversary republication), noticed that our paths were converging, and suggested that maybe we wove them together. So, some planning was done, a common route determined, and we set about with a little rewriting and reshaping to make what we had individually written interlink more significantly. Then we set out for the final destination with a united purpose.
There are three reasons why I think this book is worth your time: Firstly, it never pretends to be something it isn’t – it’s three threads that tie together into a single adventure.
Secondly, those threads maintain the original voices of the authors; we didn’t try to ape each other or blend styles. Three stories in distinct voices move around each other, until they lock into one.
The third reason is Middenheim itself, that great bastion-metropolis of the Old World, that sprawling and towering maze of dirty streets and dirtier secrets. It’s a character in its own right, and it unifies a backdrop into which those contrasting stories loop.
What should have been a logistical nightmare and a creative bad idea ended up working, and working more easily and more successfully than we anticipated. Hammers of Ulric was well received when it originally appeared, and we’re pleased that it still gets mentioned fondly to us at signings and conventions. This re-issue allows a new generation of readers to set out for Middenheim with us.
It was after Hammers of Ulric that I was struck by an ambition to write a really ‘big’ Old World novel – the Warhammer equivalent of Titanicus or Necropolis. An epic story set in one atmospheric city location, perhaps involving a siege, where the narrative could move through the streets, from high to low, tower to sewer, and switch between characters in all stations of life, from the powerful to the powerless. Kind of a cross-section through Warhammer, using a city as the sampling point. And, of course, that city would have been Middenheim. Where else? The idea, and the enthusiasm for it, arose directly from writing Hammers of Ulric.
It never happened. Warhammer 40,000 occupied my time, as did the Heresy, and then the Old World passed into myth, and the chance was lost.
Or was it? Worlds may change and end, but myths and stories remain. Maybe there’s a chance to find those phantom pathways again, and follow the White Company back to the gates of Middenheim.
Read this novel. We hope you enjoy it. We certainly enjoyed the journey. And maybe drop me a line and tell me if a return trip is worthwhile. Authors can travel in space and time, you see. Middenheim and the Old World still exist in our memories and imaginations, and while they do, the way back isn’t impossible to trace.
Dan Abnett
Maidstone, January 2020
1. That’s the original incarnation of Inferno! launched way back in 1997 – Ed.
HAMMERS OF ULRIC
JAHRDRUNG
A COMPANY OF WOLVES
It was, to no one’s great surprise, raining in Middenheim that day.
Spring rain, fresh as ice needles, spattered down on that vast old city which sat brooding atop its granite crag, gazing down across the dismal forests around it. Another long winter season was slowly thawing, and the city, and everyone in it, was cold and wet and miserable to the bone.
In a puddled yard behind the Spread Eagle tavern, Morgenstern carefully adjusted a line of plump turnips he had arranged along the flagstones, each one sat on an upturned pail. Then he walked to the end of the yard, belched delicately with a hand to his mouth and little finger cocked, then spat on his meaty palms and hefted up the great warhammer leaning against the slimy bricks.
He began to spin it, crossing his grip deftly, looping the mighty head back and forth in a figure of eight around his shoulders. Whoooff! Whoooff! Whoooff! it hissed as it circled. But Morgenstern was standing a little too close to the back wall and, after another circuit, the hammerhead struck against the stonework. Several bricks shattered and dropped out, and the warhammer bounced to the ground.
Morgenstern swore colourfully, and wobbled slightly as he stooped to retrieve his weapon, rainwater dripping from his vast shaggy beard. Then he wobbled some more as he stooped to retrieve his tankard. He straightened up and supped from it. Then he tried unsuccessfully to replace the bits of brick, fussing as if somehow no one would notice the dent if he smoothed it over. Several more bricks fell out.
Giving up, Morgenstern turned back to his row of buckets and started to spin the hammer again, this time checking he had swinging room.
‘Is this going to take much longer?’ Aric asked from the tavern doorway. He stood leaning against the doorjamb: a tall, powerfully built young man not yet twenty-two, with a mane of black hair and bright blue eyes. He carried the gold-edged plate armour and the snowy pelt of the White Wolf Templars well.
‘Hush!’ said the older knight, concentrating on his swing and not looking round. Morgenstern adjusted the fall of his own wolf-pelt so it did not constrict the movement of his armoured limbs. ‘Behold, my young friend, how a master of the warhammer displays his skill. See! Before me, the heads of my foes!’
‘The turnips on the buckets?’
‘Quite so. That is indeed what they represent.’
‘These foes are what? Lying down? Buried up to the neck?’
Morgenstern smiled patiently. ‘They are large and able-bodied warriors, Aric. I, however, am on a horse.’
‘Of course you are.’
‘For the purposes of this demonstration, imagine I am on a horse.’
Still spinning the hammer, Morgenstern began to prance back and forth on the spot like a hobbyhorse mummer in a mystery play. He made clip-clop noises with his tongue and occasionally admonished ‘Steady there! Whoa, girl!’
Aric closed his eyes.
‘Yah-hah!’ Morgenstern barked suddenly and lurched forward, head back, as his imaginary horse bolted.
His great, thundering, armoured mass, with the hammer swooping about him in a vast circle, drummed down the yard, spraying up water and dislodging flagstones as he charged the buckets. His initial swing smashed the turnip on the first bucket, then, without breaking stride, he galloped in and out of the remaining buckets, decapitating each turnip in turn, slaloming between the rows, swooping and crossing the hammer with astonishing precision.
Aric by then had reopened his eyes. For all the pantomime idiocy, for all the drunkenness, for all the fact that Morgenstern was at the wrong end of his fifties and two hundred pounds too heavy, Aric was still impressed by the big man’s weapon skill.
With a bellowing flourish, Morgenstern elegantly took out the last of his foes, bucket and all, crushing both with a blow that lofted them over the gable end. Then his boot slipped on the sheened cobbles, he stumbled at full pelt and went headfirst into the stables. Through a door he hadn’t opened first.
Aric winced. He turned and went back inside. It was going to be a long day.
Inside the Spread Eagle, he rejoined Anspach, Gruber and von Glick at the small table in the corner.
‘Did he do it?’ Gruber asked.
Aric nodded. ‘All of them.’
Anspach chuckled his dirty, melodic chuckle. He was a handsome man in his late thirties, with devilish eyes and a smile that could charm chastity belts into spontaneous release. ‘That’s six shillings from each of you, I fancy.’
