Demonkin (68 page)

“I was hoping that the general would sign it.”

“I am the general’s aide,” replied the corporal. “I sign his name better than he does. Heck, I was in prison for forgery, but if you insist, I will call the general back here to deal with this problem.”

The corporal stressed the word problem, and the captain frowned heavily again. He looked past the corporal and saw the general angrily berating one of the soldiers. He slowly shook his head.

“Your signature will do, Corporal. At least I will have proof that I didn’t just open the door and throw the children out. Come inside.”

Corporal Sayman entered the center and saw the children being herded into a long column. The captain quickly drew up a receipt for the children, and the corporal signed it with an unintelligible signature. What he did write clearly was ‘Aide to General Garibaldi’. The captain was satisfied with the receipt and the center guards started marching the children out of the center. The men of the V Corps paired off with the children, one soldier for each of the elves. General Garibaldi led the column along the street and turned at the first intersection. Less than half a block later, he halted his horse and dismounted. He tied his horse to a rail and entered an old apartment building. He hurried down the stairs to the basement and found Morro waiting for him.

“The children are right behind me,” Clint said. “They think they are being transferred to another facility, but this trip through the sewers might cause them to be suspicious. You need to determine who the potential troublemakers are and find a way to keep them quiet until they are in Elfwoods.”

“Leave it to me,” replied Morro. “I was in their place once. I know the mixed feelings going through them. Those who are dubious about returning to Elfwoods will be readily apparent.” The elven thief heard footsteps upstairs and he knew the children would be coming down soon. He looked at Clint questioningly, “You are not going through the sewers with them?”

“No,” replied the general. “I am using a horse to keep my distance from the soldiers. I will need to ride across the city. I will meet you at the other end. Make sure that we do not have any children who might say something to the gate guards.”

Clint turned and worked his way up the stairs as the soldiers started bringing the children down. Morro moved across the room and positioned himself so that the hatch to the sewers would not be visible when he addressed the children. When the children were all gathered in the basement, Morro explained that the soldiers were returning them to Elfwoods. He told them how he was to be their guide, but he left out any mention of the unicorns and the Isle of Despair. Morro scanned the faces of the children as he spoke. By the time he was done, with his little speech, he had noted the faces of six of the older boys. When the children were being led into the sewers, he had the soldiers bring the six boys to him.

“You six are not sure if you want to return to Elfwoods, is that correct?”

None of them answered.

“For the sake of the other children, you are going to have to come along tonight, but I will make you a promise. If you decide that you would prefer to stay with the Federation, I will see to it that you are brought back.”

“The Federation will not accept us back,” challenged one of the boys. “They have made that very clear. Once we chose to return to Elfwoods, we must stay there and rot.”

“Rot?” balked the elven thief. “You have no concept of what it means to be a Dielderal. For generations the empire has enslaved our people by taking our children and jailing them in reeducation centers. For generations the elves have held back their desire to crush the empire because of our fears of harming you children, and all you can think of is yourselves? You probably think that you will join the Federation armies and become great warriors. Well let me tell you the truth. This very night is the beginning of a war. All across the Federation, reeducation centers are being attacked, and elven children are being freed. By morning, not a single elven child will be in the hands of the Federation, and nothing will stop the Dielderal from seeking their revenge for centuries of slavery. You want to be warriors? Fine. Your people need warriors, but if you choose to fight for the Federation, be prepared to die under the knife of the Dielderal.”

“War?” gulped one of the boys. “The elves are actually going to fight the Federation? Is that the truth?”

“This day is something that I have spent twenty years working to see,” answered Morro. “At times, I never thought I would live to witness this day, but here it is. When the sun rises, the Federation will be searching for the Dielderal, but they will not find us. Then when they have forgotten about us, we will strike with a fury never before seen in this land. Anyone who stands against the Dielderal will be crushed without mercy.”

“I will not fight against my own people,” swore one of the boys as he moved away from the others. “I am going home.”

“Me, too,” added another boy. “I don’t like the Federation. I just want to be a warrior. I will stand with the Dielderal.”

“That is all we have ever wanted,” stated the leader of the boys, “a chance to fight as a warrior. If the elves are going to fight the Federation, we will lead the charge. Take us home.”

One by one, the other boys agreed, and Morro led them into the sewers.

* * * *

The soldiers in the reeducation center were cursing up a storm. The bunks had been fastened together for so many years, that the bolts were rusted. Bolts snapped and wood split as the soldiers tried to tear them apart. Other soldiers were trying to mop the floors, and those taking apart the bunks were slipping on the wet floors. The captain walked from room to room and shook his head at the futility of the assignment thrown at him. When one of the bunks tumbled to the floor and split into a dozen fragments, he knew that he had to do something quickly. He pulled one of the soldiers away from his duty and led him to the office. The soldier stood in front of the desk while the captain scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. When the captain was done writing, he handed the paper to the soldier.

“Take that to the palace,” instructed the captain. “Demand that they get the supply officer woken and tell him we need every part on that list immediately.”

The soldier glanced at the message and frowned deeply. “We won’t get these parts, Captain. Even if they wake the supply officer, which I don’t think they will, he won’t have half of this stuff in the storeroom. We just aren’t going to make the deadline.”

“I know that,” sighed the captain, “but you will follow my orders. If you can get them to wake the supply officer, the problem then becomes his. When Grand General Kyrga shows up here in the morning and finds that we are not ready, I will blame it all on the lack of supplies. That is why you have to get that list to the supply officer. Use any excuse you can think of to get him up. Once he has that list in his hand, he will take the brunt of the blame for this failure.”

“I understand now,” grinned the soldier. “I will get him up somehow.”

The captain led the soldier to the front door of the center and unlocked the door. The soldier slipped out into the moonless night. Feeling the urgency of his mission, the soldier raced along the empty streets. He was three blocks away from the reeducation center when his feet unexpectedly tripped over something. The soldier went flying through the air and slammed into the street with a dull thud. Shadowy figures raced out of the nearby alleys and quickly scooped up the body. The rope that had been stretched across the street was lowered as another set of shadowy figures slid into place to wait for the next runner.

The moonless night was dark and the city streets of Despair were deserted. Clint halted his horse a block from the northern gates and waited for the elven children to appear out of an abandoned shop. His timing was precise, and the children and the soldiers of the V Corps started flowing out onto the street. As the soldiers organized the children into a column, Morro and the six once-hesitant elven boys moved towards the front of the column. Clint gazed questioningly at the elven thief, and Morro nodded back with a look of assurance. As soon as the column was completely formed, General Garibaldi led it forward. When he reached the intersection, he turned to the left and headed straight for the northern gates.

Four Federation soldiers manned the gates, and a fifth was present as a runner. All five of the soldiers stared in disbelief as the column approached. A sergeant, the officer in charge of the small detail, walked into the middle of the street and stood blocking the path to the closed gates. General Garibaldi halted a few paces away from the man.

“Open the gates,” ordered General Garibaldi.

“Not for elves,” the sergeant replied defiantly. “Elves are only allowed to use the southern gates.”

“These elven children are being relocated on the orders of Grand General Kyrga,” bluffed Clint. “Open the gates.”

“I have not been informed of any change to my orders,” retorted the sergeant. “Elves have never been allowed access through the northern gates, even when they are being sent to Valdo or the other cities. You will have to go around.”

“Do you know who you are talking to?” scowled Clint.

“I do, General Garibaldi,” the sergeant frowned anxiously, “but I dare not ignore my orders. You may complain about my refusal, but without proper orders, I would surely be punished for disobeying a long-standing order. No elves leave the city through these gates.”

“We could take them easily,” whispered Corporal Sayman. “Should I give the order?”

The sergeant watched nervously as the corporal spoke to the general. Fearing bloodshed, he signaled to the runner to leave immediately for the Imperial Palace.

“That would not be wise,” Clint whispered to his corporal. “I want these men alive to report which way we went when we left the city. There must be another way.”

“He is sending a runner,” Corporal Sayman said excitedly as he nodded towards the runner sprinting towards the side street.”

Morro stood in the first row behind Clint, and he saw and heard what was going on. Without hesitation, the elven thief reached into his pouch and triggered the hourglass. With time frozen, Morro’s first thought was to knock each of the guards over the head and open the gates. By the time the men woke up, the entire column would be outside the city. Morro ran towards the runner first, but he stopped before doing anything. He suddenly realized that if he followed through on his plan, the guards would know that magic had been used, and Clint’s elaborate plot to frame General Garibaldi would fall apart. Grand General Kyrga was no fool, and he would assume that magic had also been used to implicate the Vinaforan general. Morro frowned with indecision.

Instead of hitting the runner over the head, he knocked the man down as if he had tripped over something. He quickly ran back to the column and rummaged through Clint’s pouch for the fake orders that he had been prepared to use back at the reeducation center. The orders were terse and supposedly signed by the emperor, but Morro had actually written them for Clint so that the Ranger’s handwriting would not be similar to the writing found on the orders. Morro read the orders and smiled. The orders merely stated that General Garibaldi was to relocate the elven children to a new facility. Neither Morro nor Clint had expected to be halted at the gate because elves were forbidden to use it.

The elven thief rummaged through his pack for a writing utensil and sat down on the road to modify the orders. Thinking of how to word the addition, Morro grinned as he penned the words, ‘north of the city by the shortest route’. With a glance at the rapidly disappearing sands, Morro rose to his feet and returned his writing utensil to his pack. He took the new orders and pried Clint’s fingers apart. He placed the orders in Clint’s hand and then retreated to his original position. When the sands ran out, Morro spoke quickly.

“Show him your orders, General.”

Clint blinked in confusion as he felt the papers in his hands. He stared at them in wonder as everyone else noticed the fallen runner. Clint shook his head, and his eyebrows rose in surprise, but he recognized a gift when he saw one.

“Sergeant,” General Garibaldi said loudly, “I have orders here that will alleviate your problem.”

Clint handed the orders to Corporal Sayman and the corporal ran forward to present them to the sergeant. The sergeant read the orders as the runner picked himself up and dusted himself off. The runner glanced at the sergeant to see if he should still proceed to the palace.

“As you can see, Sergeant,” the general said, “I have permission to proceed through these gates. In fact, I have been ordered to use the shortest route by the emperor himself. Open the gates.”

The sergeant nodded in acceptance and handed the orders back to the corporal. He waved for the runner to return and then ordered his men to open the gates. Clint placed the orders in his pouch and moved the column through the gates. Morro let the elves and soldiers walk around him. When there was enough movement going on around him, he retreated towards the rear of the column and darted around the corner. He found Scorpion watching the procession from the safety of the shadows.

“That sergeant is going to send the runner to the palace as soon as he closes the gates,” warned Morro.

“I have already dispatched men to intercept him,” smiled Scorpion. “In fact, I had done so before he fell.” A deep frown fell over Scorpion’s face. “Something strange just happened here, but I can’t put my finger on it. That runner didn’t fall. I mean not like you or I would fall. One minute he was vertical, and the next he was flat on the street. Does Clint have magical abilities?”

“Certainly not,” smiled Morro. “I had better hurry to get back in line, or they will deny me the use of the gate.”

Morro dashed around the corner and merged with the elves at the end of the column. He casually moved forward until he reached the head of the line again. When the column rounded the bend in the Coast Road, Morro turned and stared at the gates of Despair as they slid out of sight. A broad grin spread across his face as he realized that the elven children were finally free.