By the time Barlow dragged Prince back to the walls of Alubarna, the battle's aftermath was nearly over.
The marines were sorting captured weapons into piles: sabers with sabers, muskets with muskets. The cast-iron barrels of the siege cannons had been hauled off separately, their muzzles still warm.
Several marines who looked like clerks sat on ammunition crates, recording the prisoners' names. The scratch of their pens mingled with the moans of the wounded in the distance.
Fisher and his pirate mercenaries were in marine custody. The bald pirate wore Seastone Handcuffs, while a marine held his short spear against his chest. The seven notches on its shaft stood out sharply in the noon sun.
As Fisher passed Damian, he hunched his shoulders and did not dare look up.
Dorovich's Sand Ant Gang was being escorted into the city's temporary prison by the Alabasta Kingdom Guard. The fat merchant's gold wrist chain had been torn off, and his four rings confiscated. All the way there, he muttered that he had been forced into it. His escorts ignored him.
Roy sat on a pile of shields the rebels had abandoned at the foot of the wall, using a whetstone to smooth the last nick from his blade.
He was the first to spot a figure coming down the distant dunes. His whetstone froze in midair, his sword slid off his knees, and he sprang up from the shields. "My second brother's back!"
The shout pulled Mila from the prisoner roster and jolted Wolof awake where he had been resting against a stone pillar by the wall.
Everyone looked toward the gravel wasteland beyond the northern wall.
Barlow came toward them, one step at a time.
His desert cloak had been torn away, leaving only a ring of fabric around his collar