30 July, Une maison renfoncée

Schwol and Matthes approached Vickery, one bearing a lantern and the other a man's body.  "Sir, this here's the only other one we found," Schwol said as the other rifleman dumped Miguel on the ground.

Vickery pinched the bridge of his nose. There were nights he just wanted to bury himself in his blankets and ignore the world outside - someone else could deal with it for once.

Except they couldn't, not tonight.

"All right," he said, letting a long breath out. "What happened to him?"

This was not a question that the riflemen had been expecting.  They exchanged glances and then Schwol answered.  "I think these Guards fellows shot him, sir." It was the truth, but he hoped none of the Guards fellows could understand his German.

Was that the little bugger who'd tried to run? It looked like it. The boy was dead anyway and there had been only the one who made an attempt to escape that Hewet knew of. Aside from the scamp in Young Peters' grip, that was.

"If they found that one round the corner of the barn, sir," the corporal said. "It was me who got him."

Though why was it grasshoppers bringing the body in and not Feathers? Oh what a stupid question. Feathers would still be standing there were Hewet had told him to. Where the body had originally been discovered. Good lad, Feathers.

Matias twisted violently. "You filthy bastards!" he choked, "Leave him alone! Don't touch him!"