There came the slightest sputtering of nervous laughter, as Silverfish's perspective spread amongst the men.
"And me," Borne said. "Not even Yarmdon. Come and cause so much trouble, haha! Glorious!"
Vol had expected from both Harland and Borne that they would begin to show weakness now that the villagers were exposed to even further danger, and now that their wives were likely to be taken out as a result, but instead, they laughed.
Looking at them, Vol saw what an ideal that he'd longed for as a boy. The ideal of the raider that his brother Jok had taught him. Men that gave their lives to the battlefield. The treasure and the money was just something that allowed them to keep that profession going until a sword took their lives. The real glory was in a glorious battle and a glorious death. If that was the case, then what really could be more glorious than this?
