Ser Baker and his son were surrounded by some of the other lower nobles. They were clapping him on his shoulder, and showering him with compliments. "You crafty devil, Baker. You didn't tell us they were this good. I thought being a merchant like you are, you wouldn't have an eye to the quality of a warrior – it seems I was mistaken."
"What were they called? Sea Serpents, was it? Damn it. I wish I'd found them before they'd had a score of victories. Their hiring cost will be through the roof now," another man complained.
"What would you even do with them? Do you have any battles that need fighting?"
"With a force like that, you'd find battles to fight. They turned the tide practically by their lonesome."
All were filled with praise, apart from the Count himself. He withdrew himself from the festivity and stood over the headless corpse of the man that had once been his friend. The emotion on his face seemed to be too complicated to be mere regret.
