Page 9 of Dragon Gods

This wasn’t the first raid that Fox had participated in. He’d been sent on a half-dozen or more since he’d gotten his promotion to junior specialist. So far they’d resulted in the arrest of about ten rebels and two false alarms. For the last one, when they’d burst in on a family sitting down to dinner only to not find a scrap of evidence toward rebel activity, he’d wondered if their tip had come from a jealous neighbor. But then again, he and Ian had talked afterward and the high specialist had pointed out that not every rebel was so easily caught out. Some were stupid enough to wear their prayer belts beneath their clothing while inside their house, but others knew not to break the king’s rules in obvious ways.

He knew the moment he stepped into the house that this family wasn’t going to be the smart type. Hanging just off the side of the entry was a colorfully woven tapestry showing the three types of dragons hovering over the landscape of Wueco, sans Suvi of course. Having artwork referencing the dragons wasn’t illegal in itself, but the small altar underneath most definitely was.

“Don’t hurt him!” The woman’s voice cracked with fear and he almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what the Dragonborn expected when they went around flouting the king’s laws. Fox turned away from the altar display and saw the woman shaking and pale in the hands of another specialist. Her husband, or so Fox assumed, was crumpled on the ground, nose bleeding. He saw one of the soldiers picking up the knife that had fallen to the ground with the man and he had no doubt the punch had been warranted.

High Sergeant Guil stepped through the door a moment later, assessing the room.

“Report,” he said to no one in particular.

“I have a dragon altar here, sir,” Fox said, nodding to the display.

Specialist Toma, who was holding on to the wife, lifted the woman’s blouse with a satisfied smirk. “At least one prayer belt, High Sergeant, and the husband tried to attack us when we came in.”

The wife blanched at this last comment. Fox imagined anyone might react poorly when their door was burst through in the evening hours without warning, but attacking a king’s man was still an act of treason.

“Specialists Toma and Franco, take the prisoners to the cart. Specialists Ocon, Julian, and Nicolas, continue the search and document any other contraband found. Inform me immediately if you find evidence of resistance connections. Our tip indicated that they may have received packages from the rebels, so keep an eye out for any explosives and weapons.”

With that, he turned on his heel. The two men holding the husband and wife followed, leaving Fox and the other two junior specialists behind.

“Ocon, you take the bedroom, and we’ll take the main room,” Julian said as he started opening up the cabinets in the kitchen and dumping out the contents. Fox almost wanted to argue simply for the sake of argument. He hated when the other junior specialists acted like they were above him simply because they’d been in the position for a few blinks longer.

But he only shrugged and moved past the other two and into the small adjoining room. It was the bedroom, equipped with a single bed that sagged in the middle, a crooked shelf weighed down with clothes, and a single trunk.

Not bothering to be careful, he swiped a hand across the top shelf, pushing the clothes to the ground before moving on to the next. On the third shelf, two prayer belts fell out of a folded skirt and he moved to grab them and toss them onto the bed. But as he picked up the first, he saw the delicately woven strip was only a little over a foot in length, half the size of the prayer belts he’d seen before.

It was a child’s belt. He grabbed the second one, noting the same thing and looked back at the bed behind him. The report hadn’t mentioned children and the house didn’t seem nearly big enough for them, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Dragonborn had chosen to hide their offspring instead of reporting them to the registry.

Glancing at the door to make sure the other two couldn’t see him from where he was in the room, he crouched down slowly and lifted the skirt that wrapped around the bed, hiding the narrow gap beneath.

Wide, brown eyes met his as he peered under the bed. It was a young girl, thick curls tangled in the ropes of the bed above her, face ashen. She didn’t make a sound as their eyes met, but he heard a faint whimper all the same. He looked to where her arms were wrapped around something and saw the even smaller form of a boy tightly held to her side. His eyes were nearly black, already shining with tears as his lip quivered.

Fox was afraid if he looked at the boy much longer his whimpers would turn into a full sob. He let the skirt of the bed drop back down.

He made quick work of the rest of the room, pulling out a small book tucked away in the trunk, along with a few other trinkets that looked like they might belong to the altar. There were no weapons in here, though.

“Did either of you find anything?” he asked, stepping back into the main room, casually shutting the door behind him.

“Just some unregistered meat and a worthless-looking dagger. If this is what the resistance is peddling, I expect they’ll crumble soon.”

Nicolas had made a small pile of the contraband on the kitchen table and Fox added his own to it without comment.

“What the afterworld is this?” Specialist Julian picked up the smaller of the prayer belts, holding it up to the lantern he was holding.

“It’s a child’s prayer belt. It was in their trunk with some ancient-looking baby clothes, so I can only imagine it’s a relic from one of their childhoods.”

Julian sneered at it before throwing it back in the pile.

“It’s ridiculous enough they feel the need to make and wear this superstitious garbage, but then they keep it as if the shit isn’t treasonous.”

“Dragon-filth aren’t exactly known for their intelligence,” Nicolas said, laughing as he tore the tapestry down from the wall and added it to the pile. “There was nothing else in the room?”

“A dead rat under the bed, but nothing of any value.” He pulled out the sack from his belt and began throwing the things from the table inside. “We should head back to the barracks so we can write up the report for the high sergeant.”

“Did you check the mattress?” The man moved to go into the room and Fox gave his best sneer.

“I’m not an idiot and I don’t need you to double-check my work,” he said, picking up the contraband from the table that he could carry.

The other two gave in, neither wanting to do more than required, and picked up the remaining items off the table, leaving out the front door.

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