A Commander's Dilemma

This an excerpt from a yet undefined fantasy idea I used for a recent writing class.  This was mainly an exercise in a limited 3rd POV centered around my main character Commander Hadrian Livingstone and is what I envision his dilemma to be.  Rather than putting down rebellious forces, he laid waste to a village and comes to question everything.

“It is not my place to question orders commander, but what the Hell are we doing here?” said Lieutenant Ames.  “This was not a nest of insurgents or rebels to the Crown.  We just wasted a village of women, children, and old men.”

Smoke swirled in the air amidst the crackling flames from many of the huts in the small village.  The smell of death permeated the air.  Hadrian and Lieutenant Ames slowly made their way down the dirt road amidst the residual fires still burning in the mid-morning light.  Many corpses littered the path and burnt out huts.  Some cut down during a futile attempt to resist; others fell while running into the chaos of battle.  Many never made it out of their home as the flames consumed them.

“Lieutenant, you are not to question orders in front of the men, am I clear?” said Hadrian.

“Yes, Commander.  I apologize.”

“We have our orders and they must be followed, you of all people should know that.”  The uncomfortable silence lasted only for a few seconds.  “You are correct though,” sighed Hadrian.  “The king is too far gone at this point to know what is going on, so it appears the prince is exercising his ‘responsibilities’ to keep the realm safe.”

Both men surveyed the results of the raid on the unsuspecting village.  The destruction was complete, and they encountered very little resistance.  A few of the old men, most likely former soldiers, wielded some crude farm tools or a rusty sword or two, were cut down with little effort. 

“These men knew they had no chance, they tried to buy some time for their families”, said Hadrian while gazing at the fallen villagers.  “Their sacrifice was noble.  There are no rebels here.”

“They probably served the Crown in the past.  Look at his sword.  That was not made by any village blacksmith,” said Lieutenant Ames, “They did not deserve this.”

Hadrian strode over to check on one of the wounded villagers.  There was obvious blood loss, but the wounds did not seem mortal.  He was delirious for sure, but probably could be saved. 

“Get all the wounded and move them over the river.  See what we can do for them.  I don’t want them harmed,” said Hadrian.  “Form a burial detail for the dead.  I want this village searched from top to bottom for any information that may be of use.  Carry on.”
“Yes Sir!” Lieutenant Ames saluted sharply and began calling some men.
 
An eerie shadow eclipsed the village as the hovering smoke and ash shrouded the sun.  Hadrian proceeded towards the main administrative building.  Hadrian was quick to notice the military style design of the village.  Square and efficient, probably once had rudimentary walls, but little emphasis was placed on aesthetic design.  Clearly this was a former military post that was abandoned long ago.

Hadrian instinctively touched his finger on the hilt of his sword as he nudged the door open.  The wooden floors creaked as he stepped in, but his attuned senses alerted him to a presence in the shadows.  “Your nervous breathing betrays you,” said Hadrian.  “I will not harm you, come out and let’s talk.”  Slowly a young woman began to emerge from the shadows.