"Tyrael," Siggard breathed, remembering the man who had shared his fire. "I had thought you a ghost."
Tyrael smiled. "I am happy to say that I am no restless spirit."
Tilgar looked over at Siggard in surprise. "You know the Archangel Tyrael?"
Siggard raised an eyebrow. "Archangel? You didn't tell me you were an angel."
"You didn't ask."
"Lord Tyrael, it is good to see you again," Sarnakyle said, bowing. "Unfortunately, I have grim news. The archdemon we fight is Assur."
Tyrael nodded. "I know. It will be a difficult fight."
"Did everybody know Tyrael was an archangel but me?" Siggard wondered out loud, but nobody answered him.
"If you are here, Tyrael, does that mean that the Lords of Heaven will intervene?" Sarnakyle asked. "I fear that is our only hope."
Tyrael shook his head sadly. "It is very difficult for the most powerful of us to appear on the mortal plane. Even I cannot manifest myself for more than a night at a time. I can offer advice, but nothing else."
"Then we are already lost," Sarnakyle said, turning to Tilgar. "We must evacuate the town, your lordship."
Tilgar shook his head. "I do not understand. What is so special about this ‘Assur'? From what I can see, even with his current numbers, we still have equal forces and the town walls to protect us."
"He is enchanted by a glyph that can only be cast once every millennium," Sarnakyle said. "He cannot be slain by any hands alive, be they mortal or angelic. No weapon we have could touch him."
"How could you possibly know this?" Tilgar demanded. "How can you be certain?"
"I am one of the Lords of the Vizjerei," Sarnakyle explained. "For decades I studied the summoning of spirits and demons, and came to lead many of my clan in the council. The demons do not give information easily, and often it is enveloped in lies, but recently we have learned the names of most of the barons of Hell. Their lords, the lesser and Prime Evils, we know only by title. Of all of the barons, Assur is the most feared. We know little about him, save that he is the favored of the Lord of Terror, and that he is enchanted with the Glyph of Invincibility."
"You can summon demons, correct?" Wulfgar asked. "Then can you summon monsters of your own to fight them?"
Sarnakyle shook his head. "My magic is not what it once was. When Bartuc, the Warlord of Blood, attacked the city of Viz-jun, we Vizjerei led the smaller clans into battle, believing that the demons we could summon, combined with the elemental magic of the lesser clans, would easily destroy the army of Bartuc.
"For centuries, we had summoned the creatures with ease, thinking that we could control them. At the siege, we discovered that for all these centuries we had been misled. The demons we summoned turned on us, savaging our own lines. When we attempted to banish them, we could not. If it had not been for the lesser clans, the city would have fallen on the first day. We had ten times the numbers of Bartuc's army, and a third of us died in the siege, most lost not because of the forces of the Warlord, but because of our own summonings.
"After the siege, we of the Vizjerei were shattered. Most of the clan lords, such as I, began to wander, trying to rediscover what was real. I have spent the last two years relearning the elemental magic that saved us, but I am not nearly as powerful as I once thought myself. We cannot fight Assur with demons."
Tyrael nodded. "Lord Sarnakyle is correct. You must rely on your own resources in this fight. If at all possible, however, you must not let Assur take the town. This could be the most important battle ever fought in the mortal realm."
"I don't understand," Siggard said.
"Heaven and Hell have warred for millennia, but only recently have the forces of darkness taken an interest in the mortal realm. The realm used to be protected from the higher and lower planes, but the Prime Evils have used the Vizjerei to weaken that protection. If they can establish a foothold and keep it, then they will have a place that the forces of light cannot besiege, from which they can assault the very gates of Heaven. That is why they sent Assur; with him, they are certain they will be victorious."
"How can we fight him?" Sarnakyle said.
"You can try to kill him," Tyrael said. "Perhaps there is one among you who might succeed. But there is little chance of victory along that path. Instead, you should destroy his army. If you can drive it back, we will win this battle."
Tilgar looked down, his face ashen. "I was once told by a seer that I was touched by fate, but I do not wish to fight Assur in single combat." He raised his head to gaze at Tyrael. "And what happens to us if we lose?"
"An eternity of darkness," Tyrael stated calmly. "And that is why they must not take this place."
10
BATTLE
Always respect the purity of battle. For only in the heat of combat are all pretenses of nobility and quality stripped away, replaced by survival and death.
As Siggard and Sarnakyle walked out of the castle, Siggard paused and struggled to don a shining coat of mail, a parting gift from Earl Tilgar. At last the byrnie settled into place, and Sarnakyle passed him his black cloak. As they walked, they heard the whistling of arrows and the screams of dying demons.
Siggard broke into a jog. "It has already begun in earnest." He didn't even bother to look if the wizard was following, but instead drew his sword. The runes on Guthbreoht's blade writhed as though they had a new life.
Sarnakyle finally caught up to him. "You are that anxious for your revenge?" he asked, then added, "Do not let your fury undo you."
Siggard stopped before the rough-hewn stairs to the wall and turned to face Sarnakyle.
"Assur destroyed my village, my family, and my world. There will be blood for blood."
With that, he ran up the hoary stone steps, Guthbreoht's song becoming overpowering in his ears. As he crested the wall, he looked down into the roiling mass that had surrounded the town. The horde seemed almost infinite, despite the constant bombardment from the catapults, a rain of boulders that crushed all it touched. For a moment there was a silence as the demonic ranks surged under the wall.
Then the sun set.
There was a great roar from the monstrous army, and it rushed forward. The smaller dog creatures began to scale the wall, leaping from crevice to crevice with their claws. Guthbreoht took two of the creatures as they reached the top, splitting their heads like overripe melons. Still, a mass of the monsters leapt over the battlement, landing within the Entsteigian ranks with a shrill shriek.
A rush of flame singed Siggard's side, and the charred corpse of one of the demons fell beside him. "Somebody has to watch your back," Sarnakyle shouted, as even more of the foe poured over the wall.
Siggard screamed an ancient battle cry and advanced, gutting one of the monsters before it even knew he was there. Another leapt at him, axe at the ready, only to have Siggard strike, cutting the creature's head in half and spraying brains onto the stone floor.
There was a nearby cry, as housecarls struggled against a larger group of demons. With a shout of rage, Siggard charged, scattering the creatures and killing two.
And still the foe flooded over into the ranks like a foul sludge.
Siggard found himself strangely separated from the battle, watching himself act. There was no longer any thought in his actions. He and the sword acted in concert, as though they had always belonged together. As the demons came over the wall, the blade greeted them with joyous song, spilling guts and black blood wherever it struck. Time itself became meaningless, and soon he could remember nothing before the fighting.