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.
Chapter 18
Thunder in the Woods
Dark shadows flitted in the dim light as the elves stealthily entered the city of Teramar. Princess Alahara gazed skyward to approximate the time and nodded in approval.
“If everything is going this smoothly at Sudamar and Eldamar,” Tamar said softly, “all three cities will be taken without anyone else on the island knowing about it.”
“That is the goal,” Princess Alahara responded, “but let’s not get overly confident. It only takes one mage to get the word of this invasion to Vandamar.”
Calitora had been following the elven princess and had heard the short conversation. He nodded approvingly at Alahara’s caution as he turned away from the elves and sought shadows of his own. The Chula shaman moved on an erratic path through the sleeping city. His task was to find any stray Motangan soldiers and eliminate them. He moved swiftly, but silently through the alleyways of the city, looking for any late night pedestrians.
Calitora knew the elven plan of attack well, and he was not distracted by moving shadows far above him. He knew that elven archers would control the rooftops. Instead he focused on the streets and alleyways, his eyes scanning into the darkness looking for any signs of movement.
A large alley cat darted out of a dark corner, frightened by the human presence. Calitora smiled sympathetically as the cat dashed into another alley. The shaman zigzagged through the city, constantly closing in on the city’s center where the elves were climbing to the roof of the temple. He halted briefly outside a window when he heard a noise, but he moved on again when he determined that it was merely the sounds of a fitful sleeper.
Eventually he reached the area of the city that allowed him an unobstructed view of the front of the temple. Hidden in the shadows, Calitora peered out at the two sentries standing guard outside the front doors of the temple. The Motangans were relaxed, almost lethargic in their boring duty. Calitora was about to move onward, swinging wide around the temple in his continuing search for stray soldiers, when something caught his attention. His eyes were drawn upward to a small balcony on the second level of the temple. The balcony was on the side of the temple, and Calitora did not have a good view of it, but he was sure that he had detected movement there.
The Chula shaman swiftly backed away from the front of the temple and raced to a position where he could better observe the balcony. Hoping that the figure had been one of the elven attackers, Calitora maintained his stealth for fear of alarming the enemy. When he approached the temple from a different angle, the shaman could clearly see the black shape on the balcony. His heart raced as he saw the Motangan mage. The Motangan’s lips were moving, and Calitora knew that the secrecy of the invasion was lost. Somehow a mage had escaped Princess Alahara’s assassination squads, yet no alarm had been sounded. Calitora glanced back at the sentries in front of the temple and saw no cause for alarm. The Motangan mage was trying to hide from the assassins and still get a message off to Vandamar.
The Chula shaman could not attack the Motangan mage without alerting the sentries, at least not from his current position. There was a wide-open area between him and the temple. He could not cross the open area without being noticed. Making a spontaneous decision, Calitora transformed into a cat and raced towards the side of the temple. His mind worked feverously as he tried to figure out how he could transform into a human again and attack the mage without getting killed. The shaman knew he would be extremely vulnerable during, and immediately after, his transformation. That vulnerability could cost him his life.