Upon (Once 3)

The sounds of the drum echoed over the city of Skalavik. The sun had barely broken over the horizon, but, yet, the city was already awake. The starved faces of people peered out of their doors as prisoners were marched through the streets. Legions and castle guards urged them forward as they marched under Vicar Morninghelm’s banner.
The legions’ and guards’ uniforms shone as the early morning sun hit them. The prisoners marched, bound and gagged, under their watchful eye. The legions and guards eyed the citizens, as if they were daring them to come out and change to change their fate.
They marched right over the dead bodies that littered the ground without a second thought, making it seem as if the dead weren’t really there.
No one noticed the young man ducking in the shadows. He belonged to no one, didn’t serve a soul besides himself. The only thing he was worried about was saving his brother who was currently being marched to his death.
Dreu darted through a small alley. He still hadn’t caught sight of his brother and knew he was running out of time. The gallows were just straight ahead, waiting for this morning’s round of victims.
If the king kept this up, there would be no one left in Xandria.
It didn’t make sense why his brother was going to hang. He had not been involved with Dak Morninghelm nor had they even supported him. The brothers had always just kept their heads low, trying to stay completely out of the fight. They just wanted to have enough to eat. What was so wrong about that?
The sun blinded him as he came out of the darkness. Though he couldn’t see them yet, he could hear them. They would be coming any moment now.
Dreu loaded his ancient bow. He didn’t even know what he was doing, but it was far better sitting around and doing nothing.
The group marched by him. Ahead, he could see the faint outline of the gallows. He was running out of time.
He quickly scanned the group, but there was no sign of his brother. He crept a little bit further out the shadows, daring not to go much further. His hands shook just a bit as he held the bow.
The group was right in front of him now. He scanned the passing poor souls, but, yet, there was still nothing. The nobles were actually calling out to the condemned, making fun of them. Dreu’s eyes narrowed. Why would you make fun of someone who was about to meet such an awful fate?
Someone was reading something from the gallows, but he didn’t hear the words. Where was his brother? He had to be here! He just had to be! He hadn’t been in any of the earlier death marches.
The group had now come to a complete stop in front of the gallows. Many of them were trying to look brave and failing. A few didn’t even bother to hid their fear. The first group was forced upwards, bagged, and the noose went around their necks. The level was pulled and their life left them. On to the next group....
Dreu kept scanning the group, but there was no sign of his brother.
Then, something happened. He heard someone yelling at him, pointing at his bow. Swearing, Dreu stepped back into the shadows just as a familiar figure was bagged and the level pulled.
Screams filled his ears as he ran away from the scene. It took him three blocks to realize that the screams were his own.