Isolde pulled at Cedric’s arm fitfully. This other woman, Hilde, clearly was in no condition to travel.

“We cannot stay here,” she implored, her eyes scanning the hallway for other soldiers. She needn't have bothered they alarm bells were ringing unnecessarily now and men were rushing to the walls with panicked shouts. 

Suddenly the woman shifted and Gilbrecht’s body slid off her like warm bread dough, dropping to the floor with an undignified thump. Hilde sat up with a ragged gasp her hands going to her throat. A moment later it darted down again making sure her trousers were adequately pulled up. Isolde thought the womans concern for that point a little silly but then it appeared that Gilbrecht had attacked her.

Gore coated the front of Hilde’s white shirt and ran down over her trousers in an ugly blotch. Isolde could only presume it belonged to the deceased knight, as Hilde seemed to be moving freely.

“Cedric,” she rasped and tried to rise to her feet. She swayed dangerously but managed to stay upright. Something exploded close about and dust and grit rained down over the scene.

“He tried to rape me,” Hilde declared by way of explanation. Isolde frowned, it seemed out of character for the stern and unbending Sir Gilbrecht. 

“What is going on?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Balgar the Demonhearted watched the bombardment with a cold satisfaction. His was the most rational of views. Not the orgiastic excess that Crovendiff or the fury of a beserker. His mind was greater than those of other men, the changer had seen to that. The flimsy castle walls would not last. They had been built in an era before firearms and cannon. They were too high and too thin. Already the hellcannon’s blast was excavating vast chunks of masonry. It would not be long.

The undisciplined beastmen were already rushing forward. Many were killed by the showers of stones explosively blown from the walls. Other were cut down with shot and arrows from the defenders. The pretender knights were giving good account of themselves. Even with his enhanced vision he couldn’t see the grim soldier who had troubled him so. Perhaps the man had already fallen. By the end of the day his severed head would adorn Balgars belt, by the Changer it would.