He didn’t know where to find his comrades and decided to make his way through the city to the house of Gwyn. Most likely he would meet him and his wife there and maybe Laban, too. The city was buzzling. People were running through the streets cleaning up the mess of the battle, reopening shops, chattering with each other, laughing and uttering words of relief that this sad time had come to an end. And from time to time, he heard people talking about Laban, Reza, Mabon, Dil-Shad – and him. They recognized them as heroes that had killed the mad sea-king! Brendan smiled from one ear to the other and tried to shake off the sad feelings that had overwhelmed him at the parting from Cironna and the boy. They would be better off without him. He had been a solitary wanderer and sword-for-hire for more than 20 years now. He simply could not settle down and take the role as a daddy to foster a gang of children.

Suddenly he ran into Mabon and Dil-Shad. Brendan looked amazed at the women and his friend who were clad in new clothes and had honeymoon in their eyes. “The lady and the witcher!”, he cried. “That sounds like a book for children!”

“How would you know?”, asked Mabon with a grin. “You can’t even read and write more than your name.”

“Fuck you.” Brendan smiled and gave his friend a warm hug. Then he turned to Dil-Shad and said: “My lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you on this bright morning, I mean, afternoon!” The sun stood high and he wasn’t still not completely sober.

“Don’t you dare hugging me!” Dil-Shad stepped back. “You stink like a weasel that had rotted in barrel of red wine for a month! Brendan, for heaven’s sake, take a wash and burn your clothes!”

Brendan sniffed. Yes, maybe he reeked a little, but I could be worse. “The lady Cironna didn’t mind it…”, he started but Dil-Shad interrupted. “No, Brendan! I definitely don’t want to hear your bedtime stories…”

“… because you want to tell me your own, right?” Brendan gleamed with joy, while Mabon’s face got suddenly red as a tomato. But Dil-Shad only grinned: “Ah, that you would like to know, my friend. But don’t expect too much. You won’t hear anything, will he, Mabon? But nice try, Brendan.”

Mabon stuttered: “Ah, of course not, Dil-Shad. My lips are sealed!” But Brendan knew that could change quickly depending on Mabon’s level of alcoholic intoxication. He was sure that sooner or later he would get some "juicy" details out of Mabon.

“Ok then, be it as it may. Do you know where to find Laban and Reza?”

Dil-Shad answered: “We got a message from Gwyn to meet at his house. They didn’t know where you got to last night, so they send some messengers out to find you. We have been ordered to look for you, too. I think Laban was afraid that you were piling up corpses or have become one yourself because of your foul mouth.”

Brendan grinned. “No corpses, but yes, my mouth was in action…”

“No, Brendan, please stop it!”, yelled Dil-Shad and Mabon with one voice. “We go to Gwyn now. And you go over to that fountain and clean yourself and got some new clothes from a shop. You can’t even think of coming to Gwyn and our meeting with the city council in this…” Dil-Shad was obviously searching for a word that was clear but not too offensive. “Physical condition.”

“Ok, I will go and clean myself and get newly dressed. But before…” Brendan jumped forward, hugged Dil-Shad and pressed her head onto his broad chest into his stinking, soiled and stained clothes.

“Ihhhh!”, screeched Dil-Shad and rubbed her mouth and face after he had let her go. “You disgusting hobgoblin! How on earth could a woman have invited you home? I pity that miserable girl!”

Brendan wanted to respond something with a bright smile on his face, but Mabon was quicker. “Shut up, Brendan. Dil-Shad is right. You smell as if you have been rotting in the woods for a month or more. Laban will smack your ass if you come to our official meeting like this.” Then Dil-Shad and Mabon walked off.

Brendan scratched his head. An official meeting? He hoped that Laban would not sell them as city bailiffs only because Gwyn asked him to. And what the fuck should they do in an official meeting? They were hard-boiled warriors, no politicians! Brendan couldn’t neither read nor write, Reza rarely spoke more than ten words per day, Dil-Shad was a resorted slave, Mabon a little witcher with an unclear past. Did the city council really have to do something with them?

An hour later he knocked at Gwyn’s door. He had cleaned himself and bought new clothes that looked all the same as his trousers and shirt he was wearing before. Gwyn’s wife Rosey opened the door and welcomed Brendan. Laban was not that happy. “We had been searching for you the whole morning and have been now waiting more than an hour for you. And before you say anything: Sit down and be quiet!” Brendan grunted something but obeyed to Laban’s orders with open reluctance and discontent. They have fought for life and death and saved this fucked-up city, and Laban had nothing better to do than play the over-correct diplomatic commander. Why put Mabon and Dil-shad up with this? Reza, he thought, was just to untalkative to riposte their leader’s shitty behavior. Or was it just he who was upset by Laban subjecting them to the welfare of the city that Brendan didn’t give a shit about? He decided to be silent but would speak to Laban openly in private later.

“Ok, boys and girls, we have to attend a meeting with the city council. The high sires and ladies have a huge desire to meet us personally. I think they just want to thank us for our service – and pay us. Maybe that have more for us to do, too. Please behave like adults”, Laban said with an alarmed look on Brendan.

Gwyn spoke up, too, his body still in a multitude of bandages but at least he was walking and talking again: “The city owes you thanks. Without you, we would never have taken the chance to expel the sea-people from Alessina. But be careful, the members of the council are highly regarded in the city and the villages beyond, and they are fully aware of their position. They will still let you feel that for them you are only swords-for-hire. But if you please them, they will comfort you, and maybe you will the chance to get into a permanent role in the city administration.”

Brendan got up and burst out: “Laban, please tell me your friend is joking. We are wandering mercenaries, no city guards. Do you want to check farmers’ carts at the gate? Are you fucking mad?”

That was too much for Laban. He sprang up and seized his defiant soldier by the collar. He venomously flashed his eyes at Brendan. “Brendan, if you say one more word, I’ll beat you up like a child. If you are not pleased with my leadership, then you are free to go. But as long as you are part of this pack, don’t you ever dare speaking up against me like this!”

Brendan didn’t twitch and said with an icy voice: “If you want to keep your balls, put your hands down.” And indeed, Brendan had put his knife to Laban’s lower abdomen unnoticed. “I think the others would not be happy to wear uniform, too.” Laban eased his grip but still looked at Brendan dangerously. “Mind your words, Kom-Broghian. Don’t test me. You might be as quick with your knife as with your foul tongue. But don’t make the mistake to underestimate me.” He let Brendan go who put his knife away, being eyed by Reza who had his hand on his sword-hilt.

Laban turned to the group. “You heard what Brendan said. Do I have your trust that I will do the best for us I can?” Reza nodded in agreement, but Mabon wasn’t content. “Laban, as fucked up Brendan is, you can’t expect us to do blindly everything you have hatched by yourself. And even if you hold your friend Gwyn in high regards, he is not the one that decides about our future. Please think of that before you do something you could regret afterwards. We are free mercenaries and have high reputation among many chieftains and lords. Do you want to give that up for this city in which we have stranded because you were summoned by your friend? Remember that you didn’t even tell us voluntarily what we should do here! We are comrades, but we are not your gofers to be of any service because an old friend of yours has a problem. If there are free positions in the local administration, shall Gwyn take one himself!”

Laban breathed heavily. “Mabon, I got your point. I will not agree to any new task without talking to the four of you first. But to avoid trouble in the first step, I will go to the meeting only with Reza. We have some experience with the nobility. And in contrast to Brendan, I can count on Reza staying silent.” Again, he eyed Brendan, but not more with anger but with disappointment. After all he had taken Brendan to the meeting with the chieftains, and the local warriors whispered in amazement about the killings his scout had committed. But for now, Brendan needed to be calmed down. He would be a risk for any negotiations with the council.