Sol brought the captured riders to his hut beside the bridge. The lower room smelled of river mud and smoked fish. A local healer had set a basin on the table and was washing the cut above one rider’s eye.
“Should I hand them to the city or the coalition?” Sol asked.
Wei considered the question. “The city is not involved in the bridge. You control this crossing.”
“I can keep them here until the council decides.”
“That’s your choice.”
The injured rider, whose name was Evin, held still while the healer cleaned his cut. “I’ll answer questions after I see a physician.”
“You’ll see the healer first,” Sol said. “No one is asking you anything until she finishes.”
Yan stayed near the door with the other prisoners. Their weapons had been stacked outside. One rider watched Yan’s hands, perhaps expecting to be struck. Yan kept his distance and asked the healer if she needed more clean cloth. She pointed to a shelf. He brought the bundle over.
