A flickering fire caught his attention, and he stepped back into the shadows. Two of the goat creatures passed by, one carrying a torch, the other a severed head. As they passed, Guthbreoht's song became insistent, but Siggard held back. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon there will be vengeance."
He waited for another moment, and then took to the street again, carefully keeping in the darkness. He was certain that there would be guards at the castle door, but an idea was beginning to form in his mind. A vision of Tylwulf returned to the forefront of his memory, and he smiled grimly. The traitor would be helpful, after all.
But he still had to get into the castle.
He wound his way through the rubble of the town, sliding again into the shadows as he came to a campfire in the middle of one of the town squares. Several demons sat by the blaze, chortling and speaking in some guttural tongue. One of them held up a severed human arm and gnawed on the flesh.
Siggard forced down a wave of nausea and turned aside, slipping farther into the darkness. The reckoning would come soon enough. He wrapped his cloak tighter about him and began to wind his way around the group at the fire, hoping he wouldn't attract their attention.
Finally, the fire lay in the distance, and he walked onward through the maze of crumbling streets, keeping the castle firmly in sight.
Before he could react, one of the dog creatures rounded the corner ahead of him. The creature rose to its full height of four feet and glared.
"What you want?" it demanded.
"Go away," Siggard growled, standing perfectly still.
"You tell me what you want or me call guards!" the creature shrilled. "Now what you want?"
"I've come to serve lord Assur," Siggard answered gruffly. "Now are you going to get out of my way, or am I going to have to hurt you?"
"You come with me," the dog-man said. "Me take you to others."
Siggard rolled his eyes theatrically. "Very well."
"Baron Assur need many men," the creature rambled, leading him to the castle door. "He need to call more demons, need more power. You give body, you give soul, you give power!"
The door appeared unguarded, but as they approached, two Hiddens emerged from the darkness, one on each side of the way. The dog-man spoke a few words, and they moved aside. Siggard followed the creature into the castle courtyard, taking careful note of where the Hiddens had placed themselves.
"You serve Baron Assur well!" the demon crooned, leading him past another pair of dog-men guarding the entrance to the keep. "You give him good soul!"
Siggard tried to ignore the creature's demented grumblings as he followed it through the passageways. As he walked, his hand flexed on Guthbreoht's leather hilt.
"Where is Lord Assur?" Siggard demanded.
"He in room with many maps," the dog-man said. "You no go there. Overseer take care of you."
Siggard stopped and looked down the corridor. It was empty on both sides, as far as the eye could see.
"Why you stopping?! You follow me!"
Siggard smiled coldly and struck. Guthbreoht flashed in the darkness as he drew and slashed in a single stroke, sending the dog-man's head thudding against the wall. Siggard began to walk purposefully down the corridor, hiding his sword under his cloak. He knew exactly where the war room was from here.
He made his way through the corridor, passing several demons who appeared to think that since he had gotten in, he must have some legitimate business. He smiled inwardly as he came to the door of the war room, a red light flowing from the crack between the hinges. It was seemingly unguarded, but Siggard knew better.
As quickly as he could, he slashed the air with his sword, and the heads of two Hiddens fell to the ground, the bodies appearing and crumpling shortly afterwards. He looked around again to ensure that there were no other demons in sight, and then opened the door and stepped in.
The huge form of Assur loomed before him, but the archdemon's back was turned. A second shadowy thing turned toward him, however, as if realizing he was not possessed, and charged, talons outstretched. As lithe as a cat, Siggard disemboweled the monster, and the creature faded, screaming in agony. Guthbreoht's song began to grow in strength.
Assur turned, fixing Siggard with angry black eyes. The archdemon drew a giant sword of his own from a sheath at the side of his loincloth.
"You are foolish, mortal," Assur rumbled. "No weapon wielded by the living can harm me, not even a sword of Velund."
Siggard held up Guthbreoht and began to speak, every word filling him with rage. "I am Siggard of Bear's Hill, whose family and village you slaughtered. Know now that I died inside the day my wife did, and my soul is empty of all but a lust for revenge. I will have my vengeance upon you, for you fight a dead man this day!"
Siggard roared in fury and attacked, his assault pushing the demon back. The two swords clashed with incredible speed, crying out with a ringing of tormented steel. Assur's face was a mask of amusement, but it quickly turned to anger as the onslaught continued.
"Die in truth, mortal!" Assur bellowed, counterattacking. He raised his blade and brought it down with all his might, Siggard barely blocking the deadly stroke. He thrust forward, forcing Siggard to dive out of the way. Snarling, Assur rounded on him, attacking again. The power of the blows drove Siggard back, every parry numbing his arm until he thought that it would take superhuman strength to defeat the demon.
Then Guthbreoht's song filled his spirit, and Siggard began to laugh. With an ancient battle cry, he lunged forward, striking the sword from Assur's hand. As the demon recoiled in shock, Siggard thrust, impaling the glyph and driving the steel deep into the monster's flesh.
Assur screamed, a cry of rage, fear, and pain. Blood poured from the wound as Siggard wrenched his sword, bringing the archdemon to its knees. With a cruel yank, Siggard freed his blade.
"Now it is over," he said, and with a great sweeping blow struck Assur's head off. It flew across the room, thudding against the wall and falling to the floor. As Siggard watched, the demonic face melted into the visage of a middle-aged man, a look of horror painted across his face. Siggard turned to the body to watch it topple to the ground. Silently, it changed into a human corpse in tattered robes.
He walked from the war room and strode down the corridors, exhausted. A pair of demons approached him, but even as he turned they gave a shrill cry of agony and exploded into flames. He stepped over to one of the windows and looked out across the ruins of the town. Brennor was alive with small blazes, dancing fires running around like creatures in torment and then vanishing.
"You slew our master!" came a cry behind him. He spun, sword at the ready, to find a guardsmen with mad bloodshot eyes lunging at him. Siggard sidestepped casually and slashed, cutting the possessed man down. Then he continued on his way out of the castle. If there were still some demonic forces in the town, so be it; he had his revenge at last.
Siggard sat on a hill near the crumbled walls of Brennor, watching the sunrise. He shook his head, trying to understand why he still felt empty and unfulfilled. His family had been avenged; surely that was enough to give him some peace, wasn't it?
And there were some other things that he had only just begun to think about. Little aspects of the last few days that had been nagging him, but he hadn't had time to consider. Horrible things, that could only lead to one terrifying conclusion.
"You've done surprising well," a familiar voice said.
"Tyrael," Siggard said, raising his head to gaze upon the placid face of the gray-clad archangel. "I thought you would come."