[Warhammer] - Zavant Read online

  A WARHAMMER NOVEL

  ZAVANT

  Gordon Rennie

  (A Flandrel & Undead Scan v1.0)

  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 heroes like never before.

  INTRODUCTION

  Being a short discourse on the considerable and regrettable misconceptions and falsehoods attending to the deeds and reputation of the subject of this biography, as ruminated on by your humble author.

  In any serious discussion concerning the study of the lore of the heretical and forbidden, no true student of the field can ever fail at some point to mention the work of Zavant Konniger, the famed and self-styled “sage-detective” of Altdorf. While there are many—particularly amongst the clergy of the Church of Sigmar and the members of the Altdorf Colleges of Magic—that would strongly challenge some of Konniger’s most contentious findings and theories, there can be no disagreement that texts such as Principia Chaotica: A Treatise on the Dark Powers and Out of Araby: A Most Hazardous Field Investigation of the Tomb Cities of Khemri are still amongst the most exhaustive and authoritative accounts we have of the ways and natures of some of mankind’s greatest and most terrible foes.

  Considering the amount of knowledge amassed by Konniger and the debt all later opponents of the hidden and malefic owe to his researches, it is frustrating indeed that so little is known about the man himself. Certainly, his name is still remembered the length and breadth of the Old World, but all too often the details of the recollections of the man and his deeds are confused and fragmentary. Indeed, in several backward provinces of the Empire and beyond, it is popularly believed that tales of the legendary sage-detective and his adventures are wholly fictitious!

  Regretfully, the work of other supposed chroniclers of Konniger’s life and times have muddied the waters for any subsequent serious scholarly investigation of the man and his deeds, and when undertaking such a momentous task, one must first work hard to separate fact from fiction. Almost certainly, the stories of Konniger’s confrontation with fiends such as Mannfred von Carstein or his apprehension of “Springheeled Jacques”, the fabled (and utterly fictitious, as my researches have proven) ghostly killer from the back-alleys of Gisoreux, can be safely labelled as tavern tales fit only to be believed by foolish drunkards.

  But what then are we to make of other tales of Konniger and his exploits? Did he truly, as he himself claims in his written account of the expedition, travel to and explore the dark mysteries of the tomb cities of the Land of the Dead?

  Or what of his records of his explorations of the Under-Empire? Even today, prominent figures in this rarefied field of study of ours still hotly contest the existence of the depraved rat-things known in certain quarters as “skaven”. What then are we to make of the map fragments—apparently drawn and annotated in Konniger’s own distinctive hand—showing what purports to be an extensive and completely unknown labyrinth of tunnels and underways honeycombing the earth beneath our beloved Empire? Could Konniger have entered and at least partially, mapped such a place, which he termed the “Under-Empire”, a name which has now come into common currency amongst those of us involved in such arcane matters? Some scholars dismiss Konniger’s Under-Empire theory as further proof that he did indeed succumb to a form of creeping madness in his latter years, brought on—as several of his many critics, notably those within the Holy Church would attest—by his ill-advised and heretical dabbling in the ways of the Dark Powers. Perhaps, though, such objections are born out of fear and of a state of wilful ignorance in defiance of the uncomfortable and unwelcome fact that this world and our place in it may be far less secure than we would ever wish them to be.

  On a lighter note, it is also my happy duty as biographer to dispel some of the common misconceptions about Konniger, not merely those such as scurrilous falsehoods detailed in The Private Life of the Great Sage-Detective of Altdorf, As Recounted by his Faithful Manservant and Companion (a tawdry Moot-published pamphlet; the less said about it, the better) but also those partial truths which somehow seem to have become part of the Konniger legend. For example, it is sometimes popularly believed that Konniger travelled for some time in the company of that most fearsome of dwarf slayers, Gotrek Gurnisson. My wise and astute readers will, of course, immediately recognise that such legends have confused Konniger with the person of Felix Jaeger, a minor poet of the same era who is known to have served as the trollslayer’s companion for quite some time. It should be known, however, that in my continuing researches for this work, I have lately turned up intriguing information that suggests that Konniger may indeed have once crossed paths with the illustrious trollslayer and his human companion.

  Alas, the truth of this possible encounter awaits full verification, and I beg my readers’ patience and indulgence in the hope that the details of this intriguing and hitherto unknown incident may form part of the narrative of one of the later volumes of this work.

  With so many truths, half-truths, lies and foolish legends concerning Konniger in circulation, it can be bewildering to know exactly what to truly believe. Madman or genius? Heretic or the greatest mind of his age? Foolish amateur dilettante or noble and foremost opponent of the enemies of the mankind?

  The truth, good reader, is to be found herein…

  —from Konniger, the Enigma of Altdorf, by Dominik van Graal (Nuln University Press, in the Year of Lord Sigmar, 2604).

  PART ONE

  Buried Secrets, or

  The Affair of the Araby Exhibit

  Author’s note: Notoriously, any attempt to place Konniger’s case histories in chronological order can be problematic in the extreme, and, indeed, any well-intentioned endeavours to do so have already defeated the best attempts of several previous biographers. However, aided by information recently brought to light by the opening of an until-now classified section of the Church Archives and a few precious pages of Konniger’s own notes that have come into my possession, I now feel confident in assessing that the following case takes place between the already well-known and justly celebrated events of The Case of the Tsarina’s Pearls and the equally intriguing incidents surrounding The Puzzle of the Norscan Pirate. Those readers interested in Konniger’s ever-troubled relationship with his former brethren of the Church of Sigmar will, I am sure, find much here to further enlighten them.

  “Zavant Konniger. I have urgent business with Zavant Konniger. Inform your master that I wish to see him immediately!”

  Vido the halfling stepped back hurriedly as the silk-robed priest swept uninvited into the hallway, trailing tendrils of cold Altdorf river mist
in his wake. It was late—from outside, Vido could hear a lone night-watchman calling the midnight hour—but unexpected visitors were not a rarity at the home of Zavant Konniger, Altdorf’s famous resident sage and mystic.

  Still, in all his years of service, Vido could not remember an emissary of the Grand Theogonist ever come calling. Noticing the visitor’s obvious ill ease, Vido barely suppressed a gleeful smirk.

  Matters must be serious indeed if the Cult of Sigmar had need to call upon the services of one of their most troublesome intellectual adversaries!

  Vido bowed extravagantly, playing out the scene for all he was worth. “And your name, sir? How would you wish yourself announced to Herr Konniger?”

  “Scribe-Magister von Heltz of the Church Archives,” the impatient priest snapped. “And be quick about it, halfling. I am here on urgent Church business.”

  Leaving the priest alone in the hallway, Vido climbed the stairs towards his master’s study, smiling to himself. The only decoration back in the hallway was a particularly lewd Tilean pastoral landscape scene of satyrs and nymphs at play, and the haughty priest couldn’t help but notice it. The master had placed it there specifically to throw visitors off their guard, and Vido could only imagine the servant of Sigmar’s discomfort at being confronted with such a blatant display of typical Tilean decadence.

  Vido knocked respectfully on the dark wood of the heavy study door, knowing that the inhabitant within would have already heard his footfalls on the stairs. In his time, the halfling had been one of the most light-footed cutpurses in the business, but he knew that very little escaped the notice of his master.

  “Enter!” came the reply from within. Vido opened the door nervously, aware that his master disliked being disturbed at such a late hour. The sage spent most evenings in his study, poring over his research and compiling what he had often claimed would be his life’s work. “Chaos Theory,” Konniger called it. An academic examination and exploration of the many manifestations of the dread Powers of Chaos.

  “A lot of nasty stuff best left well alone,” was what Vido called it and he still shuddered whenever he recalled the illustrations in some of the books that Konniger would forgetfully leave lying open on his desk. Still, Vido consoled himself, if the master was working then at least that meant he probably hadn’t been adding that damned powder into his pipe again…

  Even to the halfling’s inhuman eyes, the study was dimly lit, and he wondered how the master could work in such conditions. The figure behind the desk looked up, the light from the single candle in the room reflecting a dull red glow in his eyes.

  The pipe, thought Vido. The old devil’s definitely been at the pipe again. He’ll bring the Witch Hunters down upon us one day, and no excuses about intellectual ennui and consciousness expansion will save either of us from the stake.

  “Yes?” enquired the voice of Zavant Konniger, as dry and dusty as the ancient worm-eaten volumes piled up on the desk in front of him.

  “A visitor, master. A Herr von Heltz from the Church Archives. He demands an urgent audience with you.” Konniger’s eyebrows rose in question, and Vido knew his words had achieved their desired effect. After so many years in the service of the legendary Zavant Konniger, it was a selfish pleasure to have at least once caught the great sage by surprise. “We are honoured indeed, to receive such august company. Tell me, Vido: what are your impressions of our mysterious midnight caller?”

  Vido hesitated, pudgy hands clasping and unclasping, feeling the expectant gaze of his master boring into him. Deduction and observation are the greatest tools we possess, Konniger had so often tried to teach him. All the facts are there to be deduced, if only your eyes and wits are sharp enough to catch them. His master was, as ever, testing him. Vido may have been a one-time alley thief and son of a lowly brewer from the Moot, but he had picked up a trick or two in his time with the famous sage-detective of Altdorf.

  “He’s a priest of Sigmar, all right, although I’d wager my old dad’s horse and cart that he’s never preached a sermon in his life. Too young to have properly earned that scholarly rank of his by any honest means, and he’s no warrior-priest neither. Those hands are too soft to have ever swung a warhammer in battle. Von Heltz is a nob’s name. Most likely he’s the youngest idiot son of minor Empire aristocracy, sidelined into a career in the Church where his family hoped he could do the least amount of harm.”

  Zavant smiled, nodding in satisfaction. “Exactly! A messenger boy, sent by his superiors to beg for help from that infamous old heretic Konniger. Show him in, Vido. Let the messenger boy be brought before us!”

  Vido grinned. Oh yes, the master was going to enjoy this night’s adventure…

  Vido scurried off and returned with the priest. The halfling servant had played out this piece of theatre countless times before with his master, but Vido had to admit that for anyone encountering Konniger for the first time, the great sage-detective made a powerful first impression.

  He sat behind his desk, not yet deigning to notice their presence. He was a tall man, with a wiry physique that hinted at a life that had included a great deal more than scholarly pursuits and bookworm academia. Although he had never dared ask, Vido guessed his master to be somewhere in his late middle years. (Vido himself was almost twice as old but somehow always managed to feel very much the junior member of their partnership.)

  Konniger’s hair, grey and thinning, was tied back in a style favoured more by Norse barbarians than one-time Professors Emeritus of Altdorf University, and the sage’s impressively cerebral forehead and great beak of a nose often reminded his companion of the elf warhawks in the aviary of the Imperial Zoo. And then, of course, there were the eyes. They blazed with a fierce intelligence, seeming to strip away all irrelevancies in their constant search for truth.

  Vido coughed politely and Konniger raised his eyes on cue, seeming to notice them for the first time. “Ah, my dear Magister von Heltz. So sorry to keep you waiting, but I was distracted by a most embarrassing lapse of memory while compiling my current treatise on the reign of Magnus the Pious. Of course, as a librarian of the Church Archives, I’m sure you could furnish me with the right answer. Magnus’ famous Declaration of Nuln… was it issued in 2306 or 2307?”

  “What? Well, yes… I—I think that would be right,” the priest stammered, clearly not having a clue what the sage was talking about.

  Behind him, Vido stared intently at the cuticles of his hairy and horn-nailed toes, not daring to look up in case he burst out laughing at the awkward expression on the priest’s face. His master did enjoy his little games of intellectual one-upmanship, especially with his former brethren of the Church of Sigmar.

  “Of course! How could I have been so forgetful!” Konniger smiled, pretending to scratch a correction on the manuscript in front of him. “Where would we be without the learned wisdom of the keepers of the Holy Archives? No doubt we could chatter on like this all night about the Blessed Magnus, but my servant tells me you are here on urgent and official business.”

  At the mention of his mission, von Heltz regained some of his former aristocratic composure. He allowed his robes to fall open, revealing the chain of office round his neck. He casually toyed with it while he spoke, making sure that the gold warhammer sigil gleamed in the reflected candlelight. “Indeed, yes, Herr Konniger. I regret to say that there has been an… incident… tonight at the Church Archives. The Chief-Archivist himself has sent me to summon your assistance—”

  Konniger lent forward suddenly in his chair and raised his hand for silence, abruptly cutting off the priest. “An incident?” he inquired sharply. “What kind of incident?”

  Von Heltz hesitated, afraid to give away more than he intended under the stern gaze of the mighty sage. “A break-in at the Archives and the suspected theft of items from the Araby Collection.”

  Vido noticed a subtle change in Konniger’s expression, and knew that his master’s recent request to view the same collection of Araby artefacts had been summ
arily turned down by the Chief-Archivist. Still, Konniger said nothing and allowed von Heltz to continue.

  “Several deaths are also involved. As a loyal servant of Sigmar and former member of the priesthood, it is hoped that you would wish to do everything in your power to aid the Church. His Eminence the Chief-Archivist has also made it known that in return for your help, certain of the more, um, restricted tomes within his care would be made available to you for research purposes. Naturally, the Church would appreciate your well-known reputation for tact and a swift resolution in dealing with such delicate matters.”

  Oh yes, thought Vido. It wouldn’t do for word to leak out that the Church had lost one of the treasures of the Bretonnian crusades. Especially since they were a goodwill gift to mark the recently-renewed alliance between Emperor Karl-Franz and King Louen Leoncouer. Still, he had to admit that they had used the right bait. If there was one thing that would capture Konniger’s attention it was old books and their nasty contents.

  Konniger was already on his feet and heading out the door. He reached out without looking to grasp the cloak that he knew Vido would be holding out ready for him. “Say no more, my dear von Heltz. As a faithful servant of Sigmar, I am yours to command! I assume you have a carriage waiting. You can brief me on the rest of the details on the way to the archives.”

  Vido sighed to himself as he struggled to keep up with his master’s long-legged stride down the stairs. He’d been looking forward to the late supper of beef and ale hotpot that was still waiting for him in the kitchen, and now he was on his way out in the middle of the night to who-knows-where, with Sigmar-knows-what waiting for them when they got there.

  I should have listened to my old dad, thought Vido to himself, not for the first time. I should have stayed at home at the Moot and learned the brewing business, instead of running off to Altdorf to become a thief. At least then I wouldn’t have got mixed up with mad sage-mystics and all their strange business…