THE BLACK SAILS
A Warhammer Novel
The author of The Black Sails does not take any credit for designing or producing Games Workshop's Warhammer.
Prologue
The Dwarf took a deep drink from his heavy pewter tankard and set it down on the table with a clunk. He wiped drips of the golden beer from his long, red beard and addressed the woman sitting opposite him.
"So," he said as she sipped from a hot cup of tea, "You have come to tell me something important."
"Ay, indeed I have," she replied, "Brettonia needs help, and quickly. The Elves are pillaging our costal towns in their Black Arks; soon they shall reach the mainland."
"Elves! Curse them all, but I do not see how this concerns the Dwarfs," grunted the Dwarf. He picked up his tankard and took a long gulp. Bugman's Troll Brew was famous wherever you happened to travel, and it gave the Dwarf great comfort when he told others that he and Bugman were old friends.
"If Brettonia falls," continued the woman as she fingered an amulet that hung from her neck, "Then the Dwarf realms shall be under threat. We do not stand a chance if we do not get help." The Dwarf did not answer, but looked the woman up and down. She was clothed in rich, blue garments that did not look like something you would wear in a small, noisy tavern. She was covered in strange trinkets and amulets, and those who walked past the table kept their distance from her. This woman, thought the Dwarf, was powerful, and someone who would not be crossed.
"What about Middenheim?" asked the Dwarf, "The Empire should provide you with a good fighting force?"
"The Elves have magical powers that could easily overwhelm a man," the woman muttered. The Dwarf nodded, the Winds of Magic did not always blow in the favour of the good.
"I am sorry," he sighed, "But there is nothing I can do. The journey to Karaz-a-Karak is eight days without rest, and my pony…" In fact, there was nothing wrong with his pony. The Dwarf could easily make it to the Dwarf stronghold in five days if he kept riding. However, the woman seemed to have figured that out for herself.
And then it happened. The room darkened suddenly, and the Dwarf could only make out the shape of the woman. Then, he began to rise into the air, and without warning was flipped upside down. The tankard fell onto the table, the contents spilling everywhere.
"It is not like a Dwarf to lie," said the woman as she spun the Dwarf round, "I have just been to check on your pony, he is fine. You can easily make it to Karaz-a-Karak in five days."
"I…but…you…" the Dwarf stammered, and then yelled, "FOR GRUGNI'S SAKE, WILL YOU PUT ME DOWN!"
"Will you send for reinforcements?" asked the woman coldly.
"Yes! Yes, alright! Have your reinforcements then! Just put me down!"
With that, the Dwarf dropped back into his chair. The darkness faded away, and he could see again. It was as if nothing had happened. But the woman had gone, leaving no trace of her ever being there. The Dwarf drained his tankard, gave a groan of drowsiness, and toppled backwards off his stool.
Chapter One
Bad News and an Ogre
When a lone Ogre knocked on the gates to the town of Remas, Sameth Valimore knew that something was wrong. It spoke briefly with the guard, and was then escorted to the mayor's house.
Sameth, or Sam to his friends, was deeply troubled by the arrival of the Ogre. The Ogres had allied with Luccini, a port to the south. If the Ogres had abandoned their post, did that mean that Luccini had fallen to the Dark Elf raiders?
Sam's question was answered when the mayor and the Ogre left the house, and headed to the town square. A guard reached for the signal bell, and rang it three times. The meaning was clear to all citizens: Gather in the square immediately. Sam dropped out of the oak tree he was sitting in and followed the crowds to the square, where the mayor had begun speaking.
"Luccini has fallen to the raiders!" declared the mayor. Many people gasped, for Luccini had expected the attack for weeks, and relatives of those in Remas lived there. Sam was as nervous as everyone else, for if the Elves decided to assault Remas…
"What of the Dwarfs?" asked one man, "They should be here by now?"
"They were intercepted by an Orc patrol," replied the mayor, with a grim look on his face, "They won, but may not reach Remas in time." There were angry shouts from the crowd.
"Never trust a Dwarf to be on time!"
"We're all doomed now!"
"What are we going to do now, flee the city?"
"If Remas falls, it will be the Dwarfs who are blamed!"
"Silence!" bellowed the Ogre. A few people jumped, the mayor clapped his chubby hands to his ears. "I have sent a small party to aid the Dwarfs. The rest of my men are escorting the remaining Luccinians to Remas."
"In the meantime," said the mayor, "All women and those under fourteen years of age must make for Miragliano." There were more angry shouts from the crowd.
"Miragliano? That's three days away!"
"I'm not leaving my family!"
As the shouting carried on, Sam slipped away. He was seventeen tomorrow, and was old enough to fight. Sam hated fighting. Whilst younger children would fantasise about being Grail Knights in search of long lost treasure or slaying monstrous dragons, Sam's only dream was to become a sailor. He spent hours in the town library reading about ships, and had worked on one before.
A familiar voice interrupted him. He turned round to see the crowds dispersing, and his mother running towards him.
"Sameth! There you are! I was looking all over for you!" she kissed him lightly and ruffled his dark blonde hair, then stepped back. Sam hated being cuddled in public, something that he was always quick to remind his mother.
They walked back to their small house on the edge of town. It faced the sea, which was why Mrs Valimore had first bought it. Sam's father left his mother before he was born, and she had no memory of him. Sam loved Remas: whenever you walked outside you could breathe fresh air, and on sunny days he would join a group of sailors and go out into the sea, or try catching some fish. He remained outside, gazing out to sea, trying not to think about the Dark Elf ships. The Black Ark raiders were feared everywhere, and they would usually go to Brettonian land to buy – or steal – slaves.
"Sameth!" his mother called. Sam walked over to the red front door to the house to see his mother, who suddenly looked rather drawn and tired. "Sam," she said with a sigh. Sam blinked. His mother never called him by his shortened name. "I think you'd better come inside, darling."
Chapter Two
A Startling Discovery
Sam stepped through the door tentatively, his mind whirring. Why was his mother behaving like this? What had happened to make her so tired? Sam could only remember one occasion on which she had been like this, it had been during a time when his mother could not afford to send him to school, and she had looked ill and sleepy then. Was she in financial problems again? Sam had a good salary, and although it did not pay for everything, they got through in the end.
"Sam," called his mother from the kitchen. Her voice was croaky, and Sam suddenly realised that she was getting old; she was now forty-seven, and her hair was turning grey. As Sam entered the dusty kitchen, she beckoned for him to sit down.
"Mother," he began, but she interrupted him.
"Quiet," she said softly, and stroked his hair gently. It was a thing that had comforted Sam whenever he was sad or afraid, but she had not done it for many years. "Sam," she continued, "It is time I told you the truth."
"The truth?" asked Sam nervously. His mother nodded solemnly.
"It all starts, I suppose, about five years before you were born. Of course, at that time the raids were really becoming frequent, but the Dark Elves were at that time trying to invade Ulthuan." Sam nodded. Ulthuan was the Elf homeland, where the Dark Elves had been driven from.
"But they didn't succeed," he said. His mother laughed.
"No! Of course they didn't succeed! It would take a lot more than a few Dark Elves to take Ulthuan. But they had a cunning strategy. They had a weapon, infused with dark poisons. It took over the minds of humans and turned them evil. Nobody was safe in those days, you couldn't trust anyone."
"It was wiped out," Sam butted in. His mother frowned at him.
"No, not really," she said with a sigh, "It just went out of use for a while. However, the Elves are now buying it from the barbarians to the north. We must be careful. That is why we sent for the Dwarfs, for they are immune to the poison. Your father…" Her voice faltered and she wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, Sam. I don't know how I can tell you this."
"Tell me what, mother?"
"I…you…oh, Sameth! I'm so sorry!" she began to sob into a handkerchief. Sam put his arm on her shoulder, and she blew her nose. "Sam," she continued, "Your father…was…was…he was attacked with a poisoned weapon."
"And?" asked Sam, then realised how childish it sounded. "What happened to him, mother?"
"He…" his mother began again, but broke out into hysterical sobs. Her shoulders heaved up and down, and Sam sprang up with alarm.
"Mother!" he cried. She flung out her arms and wrapped them round him in a tight embrace. Her chair rocked backwards and forwards as she tried to regain control of herself.
"He…" she said slowly when she had calmed down, "He…he was badly wounded. The poison ran deep in his blood and he…he joined them, Sam. He became a Dark Elf."
Sam broke free of the embrace and stared at her. His father…a Dark Elf? It was impossible.
"But…" he said, his voice trembling, "But this was before I was born…He came back?"
"Yes, he did." His mother brushed more tears from her eyes as she continued her story. Sam wanted her to stop; he didn't want to hear any more. "He could change between human and elf. We got married and had you. He tried to take you from me, we argued…and that was when I found out. I didn't know what to do; he would kill me if I told anyone. But I did, and he failed to do it. He was exiled from Bretonnia and sent to Naggaroth, the land of the Dark Elves…"
She embraced Sam again, and Sam felt a tear roll down his cheek. He wasn't sure whose it was.
"Mother," he whispered, "It's okay. I'm here for you. You've got me."
"But not for long," she said through her sobbing, "I'm going north, aren't I? Tomorrow! I might never see you again!"
"I'm sure you will, mother," Sam sighed. He could not think of anything else to say. "I'm sure you will."
It took Sam a long time to get to sleep that night. He was still awake at midnight, and he could hear his mother tossing and turning in her sleep. Finally, after many long hours in bed, his body and his brain gave up, and Sam fell into a deep sleep. But not even he could possibly imagine the horrors of the next day…
