Army of the Dead (28 page)

Alastasia and Galantor entered the first room near the stairs. They moved silently into the darkness. Two figures rested upon the beds in the room. Princess Alastasia cast freeze balls on each of them. Galantor used his sword to decapitate the frozen mages, and the elven duo left the room. Before they could find another occupied room, the rest of the elven group reassembled. The princess led them down the stairs to the second level.

Again the elves split up in pairs and raided each of the rooms without causing alarm. Although the assassinations were quick, Alastasia knew that time was running out. If she wished to avoid a bloodbath in the Motangan city, she had to move quickly. As she led the group down the stairs to the first level, a soldier happened by. Movement from the stairs caught his attention and he turned to look. His mouth opened to shout an alarm, but Alastasia’s Sakovan star impacted his forehead before he could speak. Galantor pushed past the princess and rushed to the fallen soldier to finish him off, but the Motangan was already dead. He pulled the star from the dead man’s forehead and stared questioningly at it.

“It is a Sakovan star,” the princess said as she moved passed Galantor.

Galantor wiped the blade of the star on the Motangan’s uniform and stuck it in his pouch. He hurried after the princess and the others. Alastasia halted the group in the large atrium.

“Split up and check for anyone on this level,” instructed the princess. “Two of you handle the guards at the rear door. Galantor and I will take the guards out front.”

The elves silently moved on to eliminate the enemy inside the temple. Princess Alastasia led Galantor towards the front door. She halted just inside it.

“Do not kill these two unless it cannot be avoided,” the princess said softly. “I want one of them as a messenger.”

Galantor nodded as Alastasia waved him into a dark corner. She moved cautiously to the door and opened it just a crack. Then she backed into the darkness alongside the elven warrior. One of the guards on the other side of the door stuck his head in and looked around.

“I don’t see anything,” he said softly to his partner before withdrawing to the outside and closing the door.

“Try again,” urged Galantor as he understood what the princess was trying to do.

Alastasia nodded and moved out of the dark corner. Once again she opened the door a crack and quickly hid. This time the door opened abruptly, and a Motangan soldier entered the temple. His eyes scanned the darkness, but he saw nothing. As soon as the soldier moved away from the doorway, Alastasia hit him with a freeze ball. The frozen soldier stood staring, his mouth partially opened in confusion. The soft voice of the other guard could be heard from outside the door. The princess waited patiently. A few moments later, the second guard entered the temple in search of his partner. The princess cast a freeze ball and froze the second guard.

“Peek outside and make sure that these two have not been missed,” Alastasia commanded Galantor as she walked towards the two frozen Motangans.

When Galantor returned, the princess chose one of the guards and placed her hands near the man’s ears. She cast a warming spell and allowed the heat to penetrate the ice so that the man could hear well.

“You have a chance to live,” Princess Alastasia said softly as she moved her hands over the man’s eyes and caused the ice to melt. “To earn your life, you must deliver a message for me. If you do not obey me, Galantor will ensure your slow and painful death. If you understand me, blink your eyes twice.”

The Motangan blinked his eyes, and the princess continued.

“I want you to carry a message to the soldiers in the barracks,” stated the princess. “Will you cooperate without foolishly trying to raise an alarm?”

The man blinked again. Alastasia warmed the man’s head so that he was free to speak. She stood poised to strike out at him if he shouted, but the man merely breathed deeply.

“You are wise,” commented the princess. “The elves have taken over this city. Right now we have the barracks completely surrounded and are quite capable of killing every soldier in the city. I would prefer not to deal with such bloodshed. I want you to enter the barracks and seek out the highest-ranking officer. Explain the situation to him. Tell him that we will accept the peaceful surrender of Sudamar. Will you do that?”

“Will you slaughter them when they come out of the barracks?” asked the soldier.

”I will not,” assured the princess. “If that was my goal, I would merely ignite the barracks with the men still inside. I am trying not to kill your people, if that is possible. Will you carry the message?”

“I will carry it,” the man said after a slight hesitation. “I cannot guarantee what the reply will be.”

“Understood,” nodded the princess as she cast a spell that removed the effects of the freeze ball.

Galantor immediately reached out and grabbed the Motangan’s sword from its sheath. The guard held his hands up submissively as the rest of the elven party started to gather around. The guard stared at the elves in disbelief.

“How did everyone get into this temple?’ he asked.

“Go now,” ordered Princess Alastasia as she ignored his question. “Do your best to save your fellow soldiers.”

The man nodded and moved hesitantly towards the door. Galantor moved with him, and the Motangan realized that he would be escorted to the barracks. The guard looked around warily as he emerged from the temple, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary in the city. He was beginning to doubt the princess’s words as he approached the barracks compound until an elven soldier stepped out of the darkness and stood in his path.

“What is this, Galantor?” asked the soldier. “You were supposed to send a signal to start the attack, not bring a captive to us.”

“Princess Alastasia is offering to accept the humans’ surrender,” replied Galantor. “This man is the messenger to deliver the offer. He will be allowed to enter the barracks. Your men will also allow the humans to exit the barracks if they come out without weapons.”

The Motangan heard murmurs of disapproval from all around him. He turned his head to look for the elven soldiers, but he could not see them.

“And if they come out of the barracks with weapons?’ asked the elven soldier.

“Then kill them,” shrugged Galantor. “Let this man pass.”

The elven soldier stepped aside, his eyes glaring at the Motangan. The temple guard moved slowly past the soldier, expecting to be struck down at any moment, but no blow came his way. He threaded his way through the maze of barracks until he came to the one that he knew the officer inhabited. He opened the door without knocking and stepped into the darkness. He walked halfway along the corridor between the bunks before someone grabbed him from behind.

“What are you doing sneaking into this building?” snarled the soldier who had captured the guard.

Two torches immediately blazed to life as soldiers jumped from their bunks and crowded around the intruder.

“A thief most likely,” accused one of the soldiers. “We should decorate the rafters with him.”

“He should have chosen a different barracks,” scowled another soldier. “Only a fool would enter this one and expect to get away with it.”

The guard stood speechless, shaking his head vigorously. Before he could explain that he was just a messenger, the officer approached and pushed his way through the crowd. He stood tall before the captured man and glared at him.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” asked the officer.

“I carry a message,” the guard said haltingly. “I think you should hear it in private.”

“A message?” puzzled the officer. “From whom?”

“Can we speak in private?” asked the guard nervously.

“Answer me,” snapped the officer. “Who is the message from?”

“From the elves,” the guard swallowed hard. “The barracks are surrounded by elves. They sent me in to ask for your surrender.”

Some of the soldiers started laughing, while others shouted that the intruder was a liar. Some of the soldiers started towards the door, swords in their hands.

“Stop!” barked the officer. “Everyone be quiet.”

When the room fell into silence, the officer stepped close to the guard and spoke softly, but harshly.

“You will explain yourself,” ordered the officer.

“I was on guard duty tonight at the front door of the temple,” the guard nodded vigorously. “My partner and I were tricked into entering the temple by a constantly opening door. When we did enter, an elven mage froze us. She told me that I could live if I delivered a message to the officer in charge in the barracks. I agreed. If I had not agreed, they would have killed me.”

“Continue,” the officer said loudly to halt the chatter that his men had started up after hearing about the attack on the temple.

“She said that she did not want to kill all of the soldiers in the barracks if she didn’t have to,” continued the guard. “She is offering to accept your surrender and let your men live if they will leave the barracks without their weapons.”

“And if they leave with their weapons?” asked the officer.

“They will be killed,” answered the guard.

“Did you see the supposed army of elves around the barracks?” asked the officer.

“I did not,” the guard answered truthfully, “but I did hear them. They were not keen on the idea of allowing us to surrender, but I believe that they will do so.”

“Are you really expecting me to believe that a bunch of escapees are demanding our surrender?” the officer shook his head. “You will be hanged for deserting your post.”

The officer pointed to two men and motioned towards the door. The two chosen soldiers grinned and nodded as they hurriedly dressed. They picked up their swords and moved to the door.

“I do not think that they are escapees,” the guard offered sheepishly. “They certainly weren’t dressed properly for slaves.”

The two Motangan soldiers quickly opened the door and barged outside. The first soldier out the door was instantly skewered by an elven arrow and fell to the ground. An elven arrow also struck the second soldier, but his body fell back through the doorway. Other soldiers dragged his body completely into the building and slammed the door shut.

“What do you mean about their dress?” the officer asked the guard. “If they are not escapees, then who are they?”

“One of them was referred to as the princess,” offered the guard. “I think they are from Elvangar.”

“Preposterous,” laughed one of the soldiers, earning him a dark glare from the officer.

“We need time to figure a way out of this,” the officer muttered to himself. “If we can get word to our mages, they can call for troops from one of the other cities.”

“I don’t think there are any mages to call upon,” frowned the guard. “I am not sure how they did it, but there were over two dozen elves already inside the temple. If the mages were still alive, we should have heard from them by now. They also said that if you didn’t surrender, they would burn down the barracks with the men still inside.”

“What else haven’t you told me?” snapped the officer.

“I would rather die with a sword in my hand than be burned alive in here,” shouted one of the soldiers.

Other soldiers shouted in agreement, and the officer yelled for silence. His mind worked feverishly to figure a way out of his dilemma, but he could not think of one. Finally, he pointed to a soldier near the door.

“I want you to walk outside without your sword,” ordered the officer. “Let’s see if these elves are true to their words. Look around and see if you can determine the number of elves that are out there.”

The chosen soldier hesitated, but those around him helped him by opening the door and shoving him out. No arrows streaked into his flesh as he gazed around in the dim light. He could not see any elves, but he saw the body of the other soldier on the ground, an arrow piercing his skull. One of the elves must have figured out what was going on, because suddenly a distant voice barked and the elves stepped out of the shadows. The Motangan’s jaw dropped as he slowly turned and gazed at the ring of elven archers surrounding the barracks compound. The soldier’s hands instinctively rose upward to show that he held no weapon. A moment later, the elves disappeared into the darkness. The soldier turned and entered the building and closed the door.

“Well?” prompted the officer.

“We are surrounded,” the soldier reported nervously, “and the elves I saw did not look like escaped slaves. Motanga has been invaded.”

“And they didn’t shoot at you?” asked the officer.

“Not at all,” replied the soldier. “At first I could not see any elves at all, but their officer barked a command, and they stepped out of the darkness to show themselves. They are clearly confident of their position.”

“How many are there?” asked the officer.

“I can only guess,” answered the soldier, “but there are certainly more than a thousand.”

“Which means that we would never survive the battle,” frowned the officer. “Even if I could get word to the other barracks, the elves have the darkness on their side.”

“Plus their intention to burn us alive,” interjected one of the soldiers. “I don’t think we have any choice.”

The officer whirled and glared at the soldier for a moment, but he did not discipline the man. Instead he sighed heavily and nodded.

“Get dressed,” the officer commanded his troops. “We will march out of here with dignity. You are to leave all of your weapons on your bunk, including knives. I will not give the elves any excuse for going back on their word.”

The soldiers talked softly as they got dressed. They often looked over at the officer expecting a rebuke, but the officer scolded no one. He turned to the temple guard and spoke softly.

“Go outside and tell the elves that I am bringing my men out unarmed,” instructed the officer. “When I am sure that their word can be trusted, I will go from barracks to barracks and bring out all of the men. If this is not acceptable to them, come back and tell me.”

The guard started to object, but the officer physically turned the guard around and shoved him towards the door.