Chapter 9 - The Exchange
For two days, Thomas was held in a cold, damp cell in the enemy’s temporary camp. They questioned him, but he said nothing. He only stared at the small window, watching the snow begin to fall.
He was prepared for the end. He had done his duty. He had saved the boy.
On the third morning, the cell door opened.
"Stand up, Alliance," the guard ordered. "You're being moved."
Thomas was marched out into the blinding white of the snowy pass. He expected a firing squad, but as they reached the neutral zone between the two ridges, he saw a line of green uniforms waiting on the other side. A prisoner exchange.
Thomas limped forward, his breath forming white clouds in the freezing air.
As he crossed the halfway mark, a sudden, joyful scream echoed from the green line.
"Thomas! Thomas!"
A small figure broke through the ranks of the Alliance soldiers. It was Liam, wearing a clean, warm green jacket that was still too big for him, running across the snow with his arms wide open.
"Liam!" Thomas gasped, falling to his knees as the boy threw himself into his arms, burying his face in Thomas's shoulder.
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"I found them, Thomas!" Liam sobbed, his hands clutching Thomas's coat. "I told them you were coming! I kept the path safe!"
The Alliance soldiers ran forward, helping Thomas to his feet, their eyes filled with a deep, silent respect for the corporal who had sacrificed everything to bring the orphan home.
