“This one’s dead.” Civis jabbed the corpse with the sheath of his sword, poking and prodding for answers in the dead man’s flesh. “Looks fresh, though. Can’t be much older than a day or two.”

“Dead here too!” Nox called from the other side of the hall. He and a few of the Greenhorns had scouted on ahead, sweeping the remaining rooms in the Calligati Guardhouse.

“feck it all so is this one.” Dux gave a frustrated sigh as he dumped the corpse back into the chair. “Looks like he was a big shot too. Lots of badges and tassels on his armor. Must have been some kind of massacre in here.” He cupped a hand over his mouth and shouted, “You find the Custodia’s body anywhere?”

“No!” Nox shouted back. 

“Well, that’s some good news at least.” Dux wiped a hand over his sweaty face. “Hopefully that means she’s still alive.”

“Hopefully?” Civis spat back angerly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who did all this.” He made a sharp gesture over the carnage strewn about the room. "She probably sent those Calligati after us as well.” 

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Civis." Dux crept past an upturned table, body draped over a sturdy leg. “There’s a lot we don’t know yet. Could have been a falling out. Maybe a few of the officers broke off and joined the rebellion. We can’t start framing her for a crime we don’t know she committed.”

“ Not yet, anyway,” Civis emphasized. “ I don’t think it was just a few Calligati who turned traitor. Look at this place, it’s a fecking mess.”

Dux pursed his lips. Despite the Legate's inclination for paranoia, he had a point. So far, there wasn’t a single spot left in the Guardhouse that wasn’t spotted withe blood. Tables were either overturned or smashed to bits. Shards of broken glass lay scattered on the ground. Chests were busted open, beds overturned, bodies tossed in heaps with their armor all hacked to pieces.

“Well, I’ll give you that one,” he said begrudgingly, “Still though, we should keep a level head till we’ve learned more.”

“Don’t know why you keep defending the Custodia, but facts are facts, Captain. I’ve seen bad before.” Civis kicked one of the bodies onto its back. A shocked and bloody face stared up at them, eyes rolled back, mouth slack, a gold officer’s chain glinting off a battered breastplate. “And this looks really, really bad.”

Dux opened his mouth to speak when a sharp whistle ripped through the still air. Seconds later and a commotion erupted from the next room. Sounds of scuffling, a muffled thump, and then silence.

Nox appeared moments later dragging someone in by the scruff of their collar, heels digging into the floorboards. A merchant, Dux presumed given the size of him, clothes woven from spun sammite, a girthy stomach protruding from the folds. He wasn’t armed, as far as Dux could tell, but it wasn’t weapons that he was most concerned about. It was the golden mask the man wore that interested him most.

“Caught a rat have you?” Dux flashed a toothy grin and Nox returned the gesture. He dumped the masked man onto his stomach, gave him a kick for good measure.

“Gah,” the masked man wheezed as he tried to get up, only to sink back down as Nox planted a boot between his shoulder blades.

“Could be a spy, maybe?” He trained his crossbow on the man. Dux heard the primer click, drawstring pulling taught. One wrong move and he’d be staring at a pulped corpse soon enough.

“Either that or one very unlucky straggler, but let's not be so hasty.” Dux sat down on his haunches and tapped the man on the forehead. “Fancy mask you’ve got there. Been seeing them a lot recently. Has the carnival come into town?”

“feck you pig,” The rebel grunted, his voice muffled beneath the mask.

Dux smiled wryly. “Well, we’re off to a great start already.” He stood back up. “Get me a chair that isn’t broken and tie him down.” It took some digging, but eventually the Guardsmen were able to find one that still had four working legs. The rebel was hauled to his feet, hands bound, and was unceremoniously dumped into the chair.

“Let me go you damned traitors!” The rebel barked. He pulled at his restraints uselessly, the rope groaning as it squeezed against his wrists.

“All right, settle down now,” Dux said as he drew the heavy knife from his boot. “Don’t want to knick you by accident.” 

The rebel froze at the sight of the weapon,  eyes behind the mask boggling wide. He started blubbering something only to fall silent as Dux stepped closer.

"Now, let’s see who we’re talking to. No need to be shy. We’re all friends here.” With a flash, he cut the string around the rebel’s head and the mask fell to the floor in a clatter.

A middle aged man stared back at them. His jowls quivered like frightened jelly, pale flesh sprinkled with a salt and pepper beard along his cheeks and upper lip. The face of a man used to living the easy life and quite clearly out of their element. 

“So, this is what the rebellion looks like,” Duxed mused. “Nothing more than a scared old man by my account.”

The rebel looked keen on saying something nasty. He turned sharply to Dux, pursed his lips, before his jaw went slack.

“Florian,” The rebel whispered. “Is that you?”

Civis sucked in a sharp breath, heels clicking on the floor as he backed away. “Be quiet!” he snapped, face red with sudden anger. 

Dux turned to Civis and lifted a curious brow. “Friend of yours?”

“Florian!” The rebel begged. “It’s me, Vizith. Don’t you recognize me?”

“I said be quiet!” Civis reached for his sword, but that didn’t seem to sway the rebel into shutting up. He continued speaking, babbling on like a madman.

“The people still fight for our cause Florian! Even after the Empress arrested you. The Ministry has joined our cause now. We can still win, Florian! Please, you have to...,” 

Dux clapped a heavy hand over Vizith’s mouth, muffling him. The man tried to pull away, but that merely enticed him to squeeze harder.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’ve got the wrong man.” Dux jabbed a thumb behind his shoulder. “Don’t feel embarrassed though. He’s just has one of those faces, you know?”

“Mmph!” Vizith struggled to talk, but Dux kept a firm grip over him. He squeezed again, harder this time, forcing out a yelp that left the man in tears.

"Besides, whoever this Florian is, I dare say he’s long since dead. Tends to happen to those who double cross the Empress.” Dux shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows. Either way, you shouldn’t be worrying about this Florian fellow right now. You should be worrying about yourself. Understand me?”

Vizith gave one final glance over at Civis before turning back and nodding his head. 

Dux smiled and released him. “Good. Glad we could come to an understanding. Now, I’ve got a couple of questions for you and depending on how you answer them, I may feel entitled to even let you leave here alive.”

“Please,” Vizith spat. “Do not try and sway me with empty promises. I know the Vangen give no quarter to their prisoners. You people are just as twisted and evil as the Empress you serve.”

In a flash, the edge of Dux's knife pressed against Vizith’s throat. The man barely had a chance to yelp. “Then you know exactly what I’ll do to you if I don’t get what I want.” He paused for a moment to let the thought sink in. “So, let’s try this one more time. I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to answer them for me, or I’m going to gut you like a pig. Got it?”

This time Vizith said nothing. Didn’t even nod. He was too busy staring down at the knife, fat flabs quivering around his neck. Good, Dux thought. It looked like he was ready to talk now. Sometimes it took promises. Sometimes it took threats. Sometimes, all it took was the gentle kiss of a knife. Say what you will, but fear always did make the best motivator.

“Question one,” Dux said as he slid the knife back in his boot. “Who's leading this little rebellion of yours?” 

“The Ministry,” Vizith said.

Dux gave an irritated sigh. “Yes, that much is clear. How about you give me names?”

“I do not know all of them.” 

“Then give me some of them.”

Vizith licked his lips, eyes darting frantically about the room, a tell tale sign he was about to lie, as all men did under interrogation.  Which was why the moment Vizith opened his mouth, Dux wheeled back and cracked him hard across the mouth.

“Gah!” Vizith screamed as he lurched back, taking the chair with him. Both went clattering to the ground in a heap.

“Pick him up,” Dux ordered. Civis winced as he and Nox grabbed him by the arms and pulled the chair upright. 

“But why?” Vizith whimpered, his cheek red and swollen, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. 

“Because you were about to tell me a lie.” Dux placed a hand on Vizith’s shoulder, grabbing tightly when he tried to shy away.

“I wasn't,” Vizith pleaded,  eyes misting with tears.

“You were,” Dux assured him. “You have to understand, Vizith, that this is not my first interrogation. All men lie in the beginning. They do, as much as they say they won’t. They’ll waste hours blubbering nonsense only to cry or clam up the moment I have to get harsh with them. The thing is, I don’t have hours to waste on you, so we’re going to get right to the point. No lies. No blubbering. No crying. Only answers. Now, who leads the rebellion?”

Dux watched as the final vestige of hope left Vizith’s eyes. The man slumped in his chair, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he gave a defeated nod. “I don’t know much. Just a few rumors whispered here or there while I helped smuggle weapons into the city.”

Dux smiled. “Enlighten me.”

“There are seven of them in total.” Vizith paused to lick blood off his split lip. “Those that were granted amnesty by the Emperor himself."

“Seven? Nido’s tits,” Civis cursed. 

“Names, Vizith. Give me names,” Dux pressed.

“I have only heard a few mentioned,” Vizith assured him. “There is Cannis, a pagan from Macedonibus. And Mendax, whom the Emperor took as his favorite concubine.”

Dux scratched his cheek. He’d heard those names before. A long time ago back he was just a measly sergeant. “So the rebellion has a shapeshifter and a witch on their side. Wonderful, tell me more.”

Vizith looked over at the Calligati corpses hanging limply off the table. Dux swore he could see the smallest crease of a smile forming. “Custodia has joined our cause as well.”

Well feck," Dux shook his head. The one name he didn't want to hear.

“I knew it!” Civis blurted out.

Dux turned a hard eye on him. “Congratulations then. You’ll be the one to gut her next chance we get.” He turned back to Vizith, lips pursed into a tight frown. “Three out of seven's not a bad start, but I’d like it if you told me the rest. My spirits are in need of some lifting, if you catch my drift.”

Vizith swallowed audibly and began to fidget, eyes darting around once more as he tried to cook up a lie. “Well...you see...,”

Dux reached over and grabbed Vizith by the chins, holding him firmly in place. “Now is not the time to get cold feet. Who are the others?”

“I have only heard of one other name,” Vizith’s lower lip began to tremble. “The one who started this mess.”

“Who?” Dux pressed.

“Please, don’t make me say his name, He’ll know, and then we'll all be in trouble.”

Dux hauled the man up by his collar, practically lifting him and the chair off the ground. Vizith sat there, dangling, ropes cutting into pudgy flesh.

“I don’t give a shit what he knows! Who is the leader of the rebellion?” What is his name? Tell me!”

“His name,” Vizith whimpered as tears cascaded down his pale, fleshy cheeks, pattering onto the wood floor.  

“Yes. His name. What is his name?” Dux demanded.

“His name is—,” Vizith’s head jerked hard to the left. His body started to tremble violently, legs kicking, arms straining against the rope. Dux lost his grip on the man and he fell to the ground, chair breaking under his tremendous weight.

“What’s going on?” Civis demanded. He stepped towards Vizith, tried to hold him down, but the man’s thrashing made it near impossible. His eyes boggled madly inside his skull, jowls quivering as he started foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t know,” Dux said. “He just started seizing up all of a sudden.”

“Foul magicks,” Nox said as he backed away slowly, his voice straining to speak the words. Vizith gave a final, hoarse moan before finally growing still. Gradually, his eyes began to glow, filling the dark corners of the room in a pale green light. With a sickening crunch, his head twisted back around, then his body as he pushed himself upright.

Vizith opened his mouth, but a new voice spoke this time. A deep thundering voice that made the palms of Dux’s hands itch like mad.  “Hello Dag. It’s so good to see you after all these years.”

“Tyrannus,” Dux growled. Another name he’d hoped to never hear again, but that was just how life was sometimes. One disappointment after the other.