Empire at war, p.1
Empire at War, 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 AND BONERIPPER •
C L Werner
Book One: GREY SEER
Book Two: TEMPLE OF THE SERPENT
Book Three: THANQUOL’S DOOM
• 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
• UNDEATH ASCENDANT: A VAMPIRE COUNTS OMNIBUS •
C L Werner, Robert Earl & Steven Savile
Book One: THE RED DUKE
Book Two: ANCIENT BLOOD
Book Three: CURSE OF THE NECRARCH
• 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
• GOTREK & FELIX THE FIFTH OMNIBUS •
Josh Reynolds
Book One: ROAD OF SKULLS
Book Two: THE SERPENT QUEEN
Book Three: LOST TALES
• GOTREK & FELIX THE SIXTH OMNIBUS •
David Guymer
Book One: CITY OF THE DAMNED
Book Two: KINSLAYER
Book Three: SLAYER
• THE CHRONICLES OF MALUS DARKBLADE: VOLUME ONE •
Dan Abnett & Mike Lee
Book One: THE DAEMON’S CURSE
Book Two: BLOODSTORM
Book Three: REAPER OF SOULS
• THE CHRONICLES OF MALUS DARKBLADE: VOLUME TWO •
Dan Abnett, Mike Lee & C L Werner
Book One: WARPSWORD
Book Two: LORD OF RUIN
Book Three: DEATHBLADE
• KNIGHTS OF BRETONNIA •
Anthony Reynolds
Book One: KNIGHT ERRANT
Book Two: KNIGHT OF THE REALM
• GOTREK GURNISSON •
Darius Hinks
Book One: GHOULSLAYER
Book Two: GITSLAYER
Book Three: SOULSLAYER
DOMINION
Darius Hinks
STORMVAULT
Andy Clark
THUNDERSTRIKE AND OTHER STORIES
Various Authors
HARROWDEEP
Various Authors
A DYNASTY OF MONSTERS
David Annandale
CURSED CITY
C L Werner
THE END OF ENLIGHTENMENT
Richard Strachan
BEASTGRAVE
C L Werner
REALM-LORDS
Dale Lucas
HALLOWED GROUND
Richard Strachan
• HALLOWED KNIGHTS •
Josh Reynolds
Book One: PLAGUE GARDEN
Book Two: BLACK PYRAMID
• KHARADRON OVERLORDS •
C L Werner
Book One: OVERLORDS OF THE IRON DRAGON
Book Two: PROFIT’S RUIN
Contents
Cover
Backlist
Warhammer Chronicles
Empire at War
Map
RIDERS OF THE DEAD
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
GRIMBLADES
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Epilogue
WARRIOR PRIEST
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chap
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
SWORDS OF THE EMPIRE
The Vampire Hunters
Meat Wagon
The Case of the Scarlet Cell
Rest For the Wicked
The Nagenhof Bell
Swords of the Empire
SHYI-ZAR
AS DEAD AS FLESH
DEAD MAN’S HAND
SANCTITY
THE MIRACLE AT BERLAU
About the Authors
An Extract from ‘Knights of Bretonnia’
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 Worlds 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 nearer, the Empire needs heroes like never before.
RIDERS OF THE DEAD
Dan Abnett
Come out, young man! The spirits sing
And see what war has bread
The grave mounds of the living
And the riders of the dead
- from a Kislevite banner song
CHAPTER ONE
DEMILANCE
I
Vatzl to Durberg, Durberg to Harnstadt, Harnstadt to Brodny, in one furious week, in one laborious gallop, a double line of helmet cockades and lance banners bobbing and fluttering.
A rest stop at Brodny, then out, into the edges of the oblast itself. After Brodny, all the place names began to change, for there the Empire slipped away behind them like a flying cloak cut loose.
The sparse haunches of Kislev lay before them.
To the west, the dogtooth line of the Middle Mountains, receding into violet haze. The sky, light and clear like glass. Endless acres of green crops, hissing in the wind. Grasslands riven with gorse and thistle. Larks singing, so high up they were invisible.
Brodny to Emsk, Emsk to Gorovny, Gorovny to Choika, through numerous oblast villages that no one had time to name, tiny hamlets where rough wooden izbas clustered around lonely shrines.
On the track, the massed columns of infantry under standards, each trailing behind itself a long baggage train like the tail of a comet. Ox-teams, kitchen wagons, tinkers with barrows, victuallers with heavy drays of kegs and barrels, muleteers, war carts piled with pike-shafts, stakes, firewood and unfletched arrows, all plodding north. The convoys of engineers, hauling the great gun carriages and the pannier trucks of shot and powder with oxen and draft horse, struggling with block and tackle where iron wheels fouled in the mud. Halberdiers and pikemen, in file, looking from a distance like winter forests on the move. Marching songs. A thousand voices, making the oblast ring. A hundred thousand.
The Empire was lowering its head and squaring up for war.
For that was the spring of the Year That No One Forgets. The dreadful year of waste and plight and hardship, when the North rose as never before and plunged its several hordes like lances into the flanks of the world. It was the two thousand five hundred and twenty-first year marked on the Imperial calendar since the Heldenhammer and the Twelve Tribes founded the Empire with sinew and steel. It was the age of Karl Franz, the Conclave of Light – and Archaon.
II
At Choika, where the river was wide and slow, they rested their horses a day. The people there regarded them in a sullen manner, unimpressed by the sight of fifty Imperial demilancers jogging two abreast into the town square. Every horse was a heavy gelding, chestnut, black or grey; every man dressed in gleaming half-plate and lobster-tail burgonet. A light lance stood vertical in every right hand. A brace of pistols or a petronel bounced at every saddle.
The clarion gave double notes with his horn, long and short, and the troop flourished lances and dismounted with a clatter of metal plate. Girths were loosened, withers patted and rubbed.
The company officer was a thirty-two year old captain-of-horse called Meinhart Stouer. He removed his burgonet and held it by the chinstraps as he knocked grass burrs out of its comb of feathers.
Thus occupied, he barked sidelong at the clarion. ‘Karl! Find out what this town is called!’
‘It’s Choika, captain,’ the young man replied, buckling his gleaming silver bugle back into its saddle holster.
‘You know these things of course,’ smiled Stouer. ‘And the river?’
‘The Lynsk, captain.’
The captain raised his gloved hands wide like a supplicant and the lancers around him laughed. ‘May Sigmar save me from educated men!’
The clarion’s name was Karl Reiner Vollen. He was twenty years old, and took the teasing with a shrug. Stouer wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t expected Vollen to know.
The company’s supply wagons, with their escort of six lances, rattled belatedly into the square and drew up behind the lines of horse. Stouer acknowledged their arrival and limped over to the well fountain. He was stiff-legged and sore from the saddle. He tucked off a leather riding glove, cupped it in his hand, and splashed water from the low stone basin over his face. Then he rinsed his mouth and spat brown liquid onto the ground. Beads of water twinkled in his thick, pointed beard.
‘Sebold! Odamar! Negotiate some feed for the mounts. Don’t let them rob you. Gerlach! Negotiate some feed for us. The same applies. Take Karl with you. He probably speaks the damn language too! If he does, buy him beer. Blowing that horn and thinking hard is thirsty work.’
Gerlach Heileman carried the company’s standard, a role that earned him pay-and-a-half and the title of vexillary. The standard was a stout ash pole three spans long. The haft was worked in gilt and wrapped in leather bands. On its tip was a screaming dragon head made of brass, from the back of which depended two swallowtails of cloth. These symbolised the Star With the Pair of Tails. Under this astrological omen, the great epochs of the Empire had been baptised. Some said it had been seen again, in these last few seasons.
Beneath the brass draco was a cross-spar supporting the painted banner of the company, a heavy linen square edged in a passementerie of gold brocade. A leopard’s pelt hung down behind the banner and parchment extracts from the Sigmarite gospel were pinned by rosette seals around its hem. The banner’s fields were the red and white of Talabheim, and it showed, in gold and green, the motifs of that great city-state: the wood-axe and the trifoil leaf, either side of the Imperial hammer. A great winged wyrm coiled around the hammer’s grip.
Gerlach kissed the haft of the standard and passed it to the demilancer holding his horse. Removing his helmet and gloves, he nodded over at the clarion.
The pair walked together across the square, their half-armour clinking. Long boots of buff leather encased the legs of every demilancer to the thigh. From there to the neck, they wore polished silver suits of articulated plate over a coat of felt-lined ringmail. The horse company was a prestigious troop, recruited from the landed nobility, unlike the levies or the standing armies of the state, and so each demilancer was required to provide for his own arming. Their armour reflected this, and the subtle nuances of each rider’s status. Gerlach Heileman was the second son of Sigbrecht Heileman, a sworn and spurred knight of the Order of the Red Shield, the bodyguard of Talabheim’s elector count. Once he had served his probation in the demilance company, Gerlach could expect to join his father and elder brother in that noble order. His half-armour matched those rich expectations. The panels were etched and worked to mimic the puffed and slashed cut of courtly velvet and damask, and his cuirass was in an elegant waistcoat style that fastened down the front.
Though outwardly similar, Karl Reiner Vollen’s half-armour was much plainer and more traditional. He could trace his lineage back to the nobility of Solland, but that heritage had been reduced to ashes in the war of 1707. Since then, dispossessed and penniless, his family had served as retainers to the household of their cousins – the Heilemans. Gerlach was two years Karl’s senior, but they had grown up within the same walls, schooled by the same tutors, trained by the same men-at-arms.
