Demonsbane

8 WARNINGS

Siggard was up at the crack of dawn. He rose from the bed and opened the shutters to watch the town come to life. First the merchants began to open their shops, and then the apprentices came out, buying the items their masters would need to go about their business, cleaning out windows, and preparing the displays.

The street peddlers arrived next, jockeying for position to hock the passersby. After them came the retainers of the minor nobles' houses in the city, and the streets filled with the sounds of vendors calling out their wares.

From Siggard's few trips to Brennor, he knew that this was just the surface. Inside, the blacksmiths would begin to forge iron and steel, and bladesmiths would prepare new arms and armor for the city guard. There were also illuminators who would even now be drawing new illustrations on their manuscripts, artisans creating tapestries, bards composing the next saga of Arkaine, and any number of other artists and master craftsmen plying their trades.

With a start, Siggard realized that it was not just a fortified town that hung in the balance, it was an entire civilization.

He turned away from the window to see Sarnakyle beginning to stir, wiping his hands on his white underrobe. Once the wizard was up and about, they would go to the castle and seek their audience with Earl Tilgar. Before that, though, they would have to be ready.

Siggard picked up his tunic and frowned. The once-gray shirt had become covered with brown bloodstains. He would be able to wear it while he bought a new one, but it would certainly not serve when he went to see Earl Tilgar.

He watched Sarnakyle blink the sleep out of his eyes and sighed. There was so much to do, and so little time.

They were able to find Siggard some new clothes at a shop close to the inn. Once again, he found himself dressed in a gray tunic and black cloak, but of a much finer cut than he had worn before. Sarnakyle not only happily paid for it all, telling Siggard that it was the least he could do for somebody who had lost so much, but also handed him a small jingling coin purse. Although Siggard couldn't be sure, it seemed that there was something more on Sarnakyle's mind, but the wizard revealed nothing to him.

Sarnakyle wore his usual reddish robes and cloak. Siggard wondered for a moment if he would ever see the man dressed in any other color, but then dismissed the thought as unimportant.

They ate a light breakfast of milk and freshly baked bread at a local bakery, and then made their way to the castle. By the time they got there, the sun was high in a cloudless sky.

They gave their names to the guard, a massive man bearing Earl Tilgar's crimson colors. Siggard could only assume that he was part of Tilgar's housecarls, the earl's personal warband, rather than the city guard. The guard passed a message inside, and very quickly Siggard and Sarnakyle were greeted by Hunfrith, who led them deep into the castle.

They were taken up several flights of stairs to a bright office where Earl Tilgar and three soldiers were waiting. A large table stood in the center of the room, several maps spread across its oaken surface. From the window Siggard could easily see the battlements and towers of the castle and town walls.

"I am glad you are both here," Tilgar said. "Don't bother to bow; this is a war council, and I understand there is very little time. Please allow me to introduce you to my companions." He pointed at the first man, dressed in a deep blue, who Siggard remembered from the battle outside the barracks. "Captain Hagan, who commands the city guard." He pointed at the second man, a red-bearded warrior who wore Tilgar's personal colors. "Wulfgar, the commander of my housecarls." Finally, he pointed at the third man, a wiry gentleman in royal purple. "Guthwulf, the commander of the King's men stationed here."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Siggard said, bowing just in case. As he rose, he noticed a look of approval from Guthwulf.

Tilgar pointed to the map. "It has now been a week and a half since we have had any word from the villages around the seat of Brennor, and our scouts have yet to report. Our supplies are now running low, and we have perhaps a reserve of one month before people start starving. I understand that Siggard and Sarnakyle have information pertaining to this?"

Siggard nodded and stepped forward. "Your lordship, I fear that there is little or no relief coming. The settlements that supply the town have been destroyed by a demonic army."

Hunfrith raised his hand. "I will vouch for them. We have all seen the bodies found after the attack on the main barracks. They were not human."

"Your lordship, if I may," Sarnakyle broke in. "I fought at Viz-jun against Bartuc, the Warlord of Blood. He was one of our number who had become, for all intents and purposes, an archdemon. He followed a similar strategy against us. First he destroyed all the settlements supporting the city, and then he assailed the city itself. If this attack last night is any indication, the main army of whatever archdemon we face will be here within days."

Guthwulf looked at Siggard for a moment. "I understand you were at Blackmarch, and that we will be fighting the same enemy. What did you see there?"

"We formed a shield wall on the highest ground we could find," Siggard reported. "None of us expected a demonic army, but we were able to hold our own for a while. There were creatures that seemed to be walking goats, bearing bows, axes, and clubs. The archers were very accurate, and every shaft found its mark. There were also some smaller monsters resembling dogs, carrying axes. They seemed to have some sort of missile weapons, and there were these shadowy things near the archdemon. I didn't see what they actually did."

"What were the numbers like?" Hagan asked.

Siggard shrugged. "We seemed to outnumber each charge fivefold, but there were far more coming. I would guess we were facing about five thousand, but I cannot be certain. I got caught in a crush when they broke through the shield wall, and I don't remember anything after that."

"How did they break through?" Tilgar said, leaning forward on the map table.

Siggard shook his head. "I just don't know. The line was solid, then the archdemon appeared, and suddenly these creatures were among us, killing every man they could."

"We Vizjerei call them ‘Hiddens, " Sarnakyle cut in. "We don't have a better name for them. They were at Viz-jun, though. They were probably within the ranks before the battle even began, waiting for the archdemon's signal. Bartuc used that tactic as well. Those creatures we fought last night were also a sort of Hidden."

Tilgar scratched his beard. "Could we be facing this ‘Bartuc' you mentioned?"

Sarnakyle shook his head. "The Warlord died two years ago at Viz-jun. I helped kill him, and I saw the body."

"So it is some other demon, using Bartuc's tactics," Hagan mused.

"Using his strategies," Sarnakyle corrected. "I do not know what this archdemon will do once the siege begins. The demonic forces are chaotic at best, and it would be very dangerous for us to assume anything. The only way the armies of Hell have ever been consistent has been in how they approach a walled town. They cut it off, then they attack."

"We'll need to prepare for a full siege," Tilgar stated, turning to his commanders. "Hagan, pull the catapults out from the armory and put a full guard on it. Also, put your men on alert; there may be more of these Hidden creatures to deal with. Guthwulf, I'll need some advance scouts to scour the land. Find out where this demonic army is, how many of them there are, and how long it will take for them to get here. Wulfgar, get the housecarls ready for battle, and prepare the tunnels underneath the town. We may have to evacuate the city if the worst comes to pass."

"There is one hope," Sarnakyle said. "The other demons are being kept here by the power of the archdemon. In order to exist on this plane, it will have had to possess a mortal body. If we can kill this baron of Hell, the other demons will be banished from this plane. Be wary, though; Siggard has told me that the archdemon is enchanted with a glyph of power, so it will be difficult to destroy at best."

"We will find a way," Tilgar promised. "The elder earl prided himself in his ability to keep his people from harm, and I am my father's son. If this archdemon attacks the walls of Brennor, it will die here."

The wizard smiled. "That is all one could ask."

Tilgar nodded. "I will have Hunfrith find rooms for you in the castle. With your experience, Sarnakyle, I feel it would be good to have you close by."

Sarnakyle shook his head. "With all due respect, your lordship, we already have suitable accommodations. The comradery of the inn will be good for both of us, I think."

Tilgar shook the hands of both Siggard and Sarnakyle. "Very well, then. You two should go and rest. Inform Hunfrith of where you are staying, and any news will be sent to you."

Siggard and Sarnakyle nodded, bowed, and allowed themselves to be shown out.

The waiting proved to be much worse than the fighting had been. They stood on the town wall and watched as the mounted scouts left the city, breaking off in several directions to search for the demonic army. And then the hours began to pass, the sun set, and Siggard was left tossing and turning in his bed, longing for the touch of his sweet Emilye.

He spent the next morning tending to Guthbreoht, whose song had become soothing and gentle. After the sword was oiled to a mirror polish, he sheathed it and walked downstairs to the inn's common room to wait for news. No word came that day, although several bards sang epics of the hero Arkaine, who had won some great victory in the east against demonic forces.

The mood of the town had changed overnight. Where before the inn's common room had been filled with life and laughter, now everybody was grim, waiting for the battle they knew would come. When Siggard watched Brennor come to life the next morning, after another nearly sleepless night, the denizens seemed to go through their daily business as though it was just a routine and nothing more.

He oiled his sword once again, went downstairs, listened to more epics, and waited for news. And, as another night fell, still no word came, and he was almost sick of hearing tales about Arkaine slaughtering demons with superhuman strength.

Sarnakyle was not much help. The wizard spent most of his time in the room, reading some old books he had stored in his pack. When Siggard had asked him what they were, he had been told they were spellbooks. The answer had been curt, though, unlike Sarnakyle's usually kind demeanor.

That night he dreamed of Emilye, but her face was ancient and decaying, and no matter how hard he tried to hold on to her, she slipped from his grasp and turned to dust. He awoke in tears, the pain of her death fresh once more, and silently wept for almost an hour before the sun rose.

That morning, after he had oiled his sword and gone down into the common room for a bite to eat, the innkeeper handed him a message.

"Just came in for you, sir," the innkeeper said. "Has Earl Tilgar's personal seal, it does."

Siggard handed the man a silver coin and opened the paper. He read it quickly, the elegant script suddenly reminding him of Emilye's gentle reading lessons, and felt absolute dread curl around in his stomach. He rushed upstairs, and threw open the door to their room, startling Sarnakyle, who was carefully going over a passage in his codex.

"Read this," Siggard said, handing the parchment to the wizard. Sarnakyle's eyes widened when he looked at the page.

"Army will arrive within a day from the east," he read aloud. "The demons number between three and four thousand. All nearby villages are destroyed, and all roads are blocked. We are completely isolated."

Siggard shook his head. "If we are truly cut off, then if the town is evacuated, there will be nowhere for the people to go. The demons will destroy them at will."

"I have not seen a situation this bad since Viz-jun," Sarnakyle stated. "We must prepare ourselves. Tomorrow, darkness falls upon Brennor."