Two horsemen ambled down the road from Curaw to Reyvadin, followed by a several donkeys laden with beer kegs and some baggage.
"Well, we had our time in the sun, Dirk, and now the sun has set," Bryggan said, "not bad for a couple of penniless mercenaries."
"And now we are penniless again," grumbled Dirk.
"Ah, maybe not," grinned Bryggan, "We might have something to show for this."
"We should have stayed and fought, dammit!"
"For what?" Bryggan asked, "Our forces were scattered. Our only hope was to hold the north until Dutchy and Jimmy came. Once they betrayed us we were hooped. Did you want to die gloriously on the walls of a burning Curaw, watching our soldiers and population die just for some odd sense of honour?
"The screwed us big. Odd how Acre grumbled and bitched and complained, yet they stayed loyal, while the others said everything was fine and everything would work out, but they betrayed us." Bryggan waved a finger. "Steppe folk," he said, "will embrace you like a brother while they hold a dagger to your back, but the knights of Acre will call you a moron and a loser, but will die defending you.
"i cringe when I think of how long the Wardens and the Steppe folk planned this. A rebellion I understand, but they bided their time. They smiled and nodded, while the whole time they conspired with the Wardens. How they must have giggled thinking of the look in my face when they combined their attacks on us. I must compliment them on keeping a straight face until now"
"So in your anger you tried to destroy the whole faction", Dirk growled, a scowl on his face.
"Ok, ok, that may have been a bit hasty of me," Bryggan answered, "I will admit I got a bit drunk when I heard of the attack. Perhaps I overreacted. I assumed any sane man would make a run for it, like I am doing, and am forcing you to do. But I guess a lot of these folk insist on dying gloriously, and I should have been kind enough to let them. I guess many of them would be happy to briefly hold the vestiges of our broken empire."
Dirk responded, "I think most men with honour would have... hold on, a rider approaches."
"Bloody hell, it's Albus!" Bryggan cried, "Albus, you scoundrel, how goes it?"
Albus rode up on his beautiful, champion courser. "As well as it can go when one loses a kingdom," he answered, "my villages are being over run by Wardens. Odd, seeing that they are sworn to defend. But oh well, easy come, easy go. But i suppose you lost more- once a high king, and now... um, what are you now?"
"Filthy rich," Bryggan answered, "one doesn't become High King and not amass wealth. Open that bag there- you'll see its full of diamonds. I will retire a rich man, and won't have to deal with greasy politics anymore."
"Um, Bryggan," Albus said, peering into one of the bags, "This is all just broken glass."
"What!" shrieked Bryggan, "those are diamonds from the Kingdom's treasury!"
"Oh damn," Dirk said.
"What!?"
"Well," Dirk stammered, "every time you got drunk, you'd move the party to the treasury to show off. I noticed many of the prost... courtesans were helping themselves to the diamonds- so I moved them."
"Oh bloody" Bryggan said, deflated.
"Um yeah," said Dirk, "but you did break a lot of wine bottles while drinking there."
"Damn, damn, damn," Bryggan cursed, "Damn chadz' balls to Warcraft. I was pretty blasted when I raided the treasury..." Bryggan looked to the ground miserably, then glanced at Albus. "Hold on a minute," he said, "are those there rings real?"
"Oh yeah," Albus answered, "Rubies, onyx, sapphires, diamonds, and emeralds, all set in gold. Kinda uncomfortable, but they look so good. And see this tunic? Velucan silk. Not Nova Velucan either, but real Velucan. Sharizian leather boots, Shulus wolfskin cloak, and this belt is Dhirim eelskin studded with gold."
"Damn," Bryggan said, "How many villages did you have to raid to afford all that?"
"None," Albus answered, "peasants don't have much gold. I started trading. Good mony to be made, what with all the people starving and such."
"Trading, eh?" Bryggan said, rubbing his hands together.