The near-right sentry still lay face-down beside the fence, exactly where the rifle volley had dropped him. The dirt around the body had soaked up everything and darkened.
Cedd stepped past him and entered the camp again.
Morning light fully covered the valley floor now. The haze from before dawn had burned away, and for the first time since descending the slope, he could see the camp clearly.
The tent rows remained intact. No fire damage.
That had been intentional from the start. The mission had always centered on the supplies, and supplies required a camp that wasn't razed when the fighting ended.
The fire pits had smoldering coals, and smoke drifted north on the morning air from two of them. From the tents came the sounds of organized work of boots on the packed ground, canvas shifting, someone barking a short instruction.
Cleanup. Consolidation.
The man who had taken the femur shot lay between the third and fourth rows. Face-down, motionless. His hands still pressed against the wound as if pressure alone could hold back what the bullet had started.
It hadn't.
The time after the assault had finished the job.
The far-left sentry remained slumped against the fence post where he had fallen. The blood on the post had dried into a dark vertical streak.
Cedd moved through the camp, focused on how to deal with the aftermath.
He stopped beside the nearest squad leader without breaking stride. "Full sweep of the tents, every single one checked. Anyone hiding or pretending to be dead, you deal with it and report directly to me."
The captain gave a quick nod and immediately split his squad into pairs.
Three more orders followed in quick succession, each given to a different squad leader as Cedd crossed the camp.
Check the perimeter. Clear the bodies on open ground. Set up a medical station near the supply crates where wounded soldiers could be treated without interfering with the rest of the work.
Each captain received one problem and moved to solve it.
At the supply crates on the north side, Cedd adjusted his rifle sling to free his right hand. His left palm rested against the crate while the strap shifted across his chest.
He found Weg where Leod had positioned him during the assault, braced against the crate stack, both hands locked around the tourniquet cord above the thigh wound.
The soldier treating him looked up as Cedd approached.
"Tourniquet's holdin'. Bastard stayed awake through all of it."
Cedd studied Weg.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yeah."
Weg kept his jaw tight. The pain showed not in what he said, but in how little he allowed himself to move.
"You stay where you are."
Weg gave a short nod. His hands never left the tourniquet.
Then, one soldier from the ambush location arrived with a composed pace.
He stopped six feet from Cedd. "The ambush worked. Two volleys, then they tried rushin' us. Didn't break through. What's left of 'em's pullin' back toward camp two."
Cedd took a moment to run the numbers.
The second camp had lost both its response force and its command structure. The survivors would reach it before any squad could. They would carry the warning ahead of the rifles.
That created a window.
Short-lived windows closed fast.
He named four squads by captain.
"Regroup with the ambush squads and push on camp two. Keep the supplies intact."
The squads were already moving before he finished.
The north side of the camp had the Ashen Company's supplies in three organized rows, of food, equipment and trade goods separated by type.
The food supplies alone represented more than one season of provisions. The equipment row held materials the army could either absorb directly or break down into parts.
He pointed to two nearby soldiers.
"Guard this. Nobody touches anything until logistics arrives with the wagons."
"Aye."
The two men moved to the nearest row corner and took position.
Three soldiers stood at the enclosure fence when Cedd reached the center-left section of camp.
They had completed their assigned sweep and stopped here because this part didn't fit the orders. They had no standing instruction for civilians.
The people inside had already noticed soldiers at the fence.
Some sat against the far side, keeping the greatest distance available from the gate. It was learned behavior from prior experience.
Others remained near the center, watching Cedd approach with focused attention. They measured whether the new arrival meant danger, opportunity, or something worse.
Too many people occupied too little space inside the enclosure.
Time showed itself in details.
Worn strips of ground along the far fence wall, their clothing torn into scraps, the exhaustion from old injuries, fatigue, or both.
One man near the gate carried bruising across the jaw and cheekbone, several days old but still obvious. Another held his left arm tight against his ribs in the familiar posture of someone with broken bones.
The women stood deeper inside the group, away from the fence.
Their body language was more restrained, with arms held close to minimize visible space, shoulders slouched, dazed eyes fixed on a random spot instead of the soldiers outside the barrier.
One woman gripped herself tightly across the upper chest, too tightly for the autumn cold to explain.
Their clothing was torn in more intentional, obvious intent than the rest.
The details pictured their treatment without effort. The evidence spoke plainly enough.
One of the soldiers at the fence glanced toward Cedd as he reached the post.
"We cleared the east side, then we found this lot. Weren't sure how you wanted it handled."
Cedd found the gate latch on the right side of the post.
He replied with an even tone, "Open it and bring the medical station over here. Treat those who need it, then get every civilian to board the wagons when they arrive."
The soldier worked the latch immediately.
Cedd left two of the three soldiers at the enclosure and continued toward the camp center.
Leod stood in the open space between the tent rows, positioned where anyone crossing the middle of camp would have to pass him.
He looked like he had been working without pause since the assault ended and had stopped only because this particular issue required command authority.
Within a beat, he reported, "Twenty-one prisoners detained on the east perimeter. One's the bastard we caught during the assault. Rest were dragged out of tents during the sweep."
Cedd paused for one moment.
The prince instruction had been direct. Ashmark has no space for more people.
Any resistance receives no mercy. No prisoners.
The enclosure behind him had people the Ashen Company had accumulated across years of operations, or at least those that survived and weren't sold.
Those were civilians. They could be treated like the refugees that arrived daily at the city.
The mercenaries, on the other hand, had no reason to be treated like that.
It was an easy decision.
"Execute them."
