“She didn’t come back that night. She was working in the royal quarter and never came back.”
Fox could hear the strain in his voice, tears tracking down his face.
“Lying scum,” the soldier said, grabbing the man by the neck and throwing him to the ground. “Anyone found hiding rebels will be executed. Anyone hiding information will be executed.”
He was still screaming the words even as he sent kick after kick into the man—his side, his back, his head. Blood splattered the street. The familiar sound of bone cracking had Fox’s stomach turning. Before he could intervene, the man’s body went slack, his face a bloody mess. Fox knew he was dead. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies before.
The soldier’s companion grabbed the next woman in line by her hair, pulling her closer.
“Now, tell us where Andrea Goz and Javier Diaz are. They are listed at this residence. Show us the bodies, or I’ll arrest you for resistance ties.”
“Please,” the woman said, fingers scrambling for the hand in her hair. “We don’t know where they are. We haven’t seen them since the drag?—”
The man slammed the woman’s face into the stone wall before she could finish her sentence. But everyone knew what she was going to say. Even the other soldiers went eerily still, as if everyone were waiting for someone to admit the truth.
How many people had seen the dragon come that night?
“What in the king’s name is going on out here?” Ian demanded as he stepped from one home, holding a chest. He set it down next to the pile of belongings before scanning his men. His eyes flickered between the dead man at his specialist’s feet and the woman clutched in the man’s hand, her face covered in blood, nose clearly broken.
Fox didn’t know if he made a sound, but Ian’s eyes swung to him. His expression didn’t change, his shoulders tensing.
“Junior Specialist Lago, what did I say about casualties?” he snapped, turning back to his soldier.
“Sir, High Specialist Holt?—”
“Release that woman and both of you return to the barracks immediately.”
“Sir—“
“One more word and I’ll send you to the prison,” he said, face still blank. “I gave clear directions and I don’t tolerate being ignored.”
Junior Specialist Lago released the woman and she crumpled, no one going to her aid. The two men left, backs straight, but Fox could see the defiance in their eyes. This wouldn’t be the last Ian would hear about this, he was sure.
“The rest of you, finish cleaning up this mess and let’s move on. At this rate, it will take a sun cycle to completely sweep the city.”
Ian glared a beat until his men jumped to follow his orders and then he stepped over to where Fox was waiting.
“Junior Major Ocon,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“I spoke with the chief commander and have some information to share in private, High Sergeant.” He hoped the intensity in his eyes would speak for him. He didn’t want to wait until tonight to talk.
Ian’s face remained impassive, but after a moment, he turned to his men. “Junior Sergeant Vin!”
A man stepped over from where he was talking with a Dragonborn. Despite his rank, he was older than Fox and Ian both, the edges of his hair peppered with white. Fox didn’t have to wonder why he wasn’t at a higher rank by now. He likely came from a Dragonborn family that had turned loyalist. They’d been promised so much, yet the king had delivered so little. Sofia would have given him a speech about the connection between these broken promises and the last uprising.
Ian spoke. “Please take command until I return. I want this block and the next swept before the end of the day. Any suspicious activity, report to me and don’t send arrests to the prison until I’m back.”
“Yes, sir,” the older man said, giving a curt bow.
“And Vin,” Ian said, voice lower. “If I hear about any more unnecessary violence, it’s your head I’ll come for.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, turning away as if afraid of lingering under Ian’s glare.
“Junior Major Ocon, why don’t we go somewhere more private?” he said, already walking away.
Fox followed, stepping carefully over the rubble and refuse of the alley Ian took them down. The other man didn’t speak as he led them down three turns with no indication of where they were going. Fox thought, briefly, that Ian was taking him somewhere to kill him. He knew too much about the resistance, and they’d decided he wasn’t worth the risk.
Then again, if anyone was going to kill him, he imagined Sofia would do the job herself. Something deep in his chest twisted. He pushed his feelings down, focusing instead on the fetid stench of death and war that permeated the drowned quarter. Once the sweeps were done, it would still take weeks to clean the city. The king’s men would help, but it would be cursory at best. It would be up to the Dragonbornto rebuild with whatever resources and time they had. The unfairness of it was sharp in Fox’s chest.
