It was a rather windy day during the middle of Riin’s Work. The surrounding ferns, shrubs, and willows shook violently at each gust. My Brothers-Hoppe, Skum, The Boil, The Scholar, Fingers, and Hogfarmer-were sitting with me by the riverbank. We had just caught a fat fish and were trying to make a fire to cook it. Considering the weather, that was no simple task-nor was it a very good time for one of those elites to happen upon us.

I looked over Skum’s shoulder at the road. Coming toward us was a young man dressed in makeup and bright clothes. He was goose-stepping, his face was bright red and drenched in tears. He was muttering the foulest curses to himself. 

“Those bastards!” he whined. “I’ll teach them to mess with me! I will! They’ll see!”

I hoped he would have continued on his way. A grown man whining like a child always ruined my day. We almost had the fire going when the noble came up and punt-kicked it, spreading the cinders dangerously close to the ferns. The Scholar ran over to stamp them out.

“And what have we here?” he said. “Begone from here, you filthy bandits! This is my road, and you have no right to camp beside it!”

Hoppe was the first of us to rise. He approached the poor fool. “This is your road, is it?” he said, reaching for the mace at his side. Hoppe was the second tallest in our group and was rarely seen dressed in something other than his thick, steel plate armor. The young man was too proud to be intimidated by him, however. “I’ve never heard of someone like you having any plots of land. Why, you must be the most successful whore in all of Bottom Hill!”

My brothers erupted with laughter. I had to crack a smile too, as the insult fit the man’s appearance perfectly. He was dressed in a bright pink doublet and trousers, both skin-tight to show off his petite features. He wore strapped sandals, and each of his toenails was painted green. The skin around his eyes was painted blue. He would have fit in perfectly at one of the brothels I grew up around, or within a troupe of clowns. 

“You will not speak of me that way!” The man reached inside his clothes and took out a dagger with a diamond-studded grip. He pointed the end toward Hoppe as if he were ready to stab him. The leader of our band grabbed his mace and drove the end of it into the noble's gut.

The man fell on his back. He tried to scurry back to his feet, panting heavily, but Hoppe placed a boot on his chest to hold him down. The old warrior raised the mace high above his head and brought it down.

The noble threw his dagger away and held his hands up. “I yield!” he wheezed.

Hoppe removed his foot and yanked the man up by his collar. The noble dusted off his doublet, adjusted his trousers, removed the hair from his eyes, and then vomited all over the place. He plopped back down to his rear with a dazed look on his face.

“Seems like you’ve had your share of excitement for the day,” Hoppe said, putting his weapon away. “Why don't you run away back to your castle?”

Slowly, the noble rose. He turned his back to us. Just when I thought he was going to leave, he said, “So you don’t know who I am, then.”

“Like my brother said, you’re a Bottom Hill whore!” Skum said. He was standing with the fish in one hand and his axe in the other. His rat-like face was contorted in rage. He was an especially dangerous man when he was hungry. “Now get the hell out of here, I’m starving!”

The noble ignored the comment. He took a deep breath, stood up straight, and held his head high. He began speaking in a diplomatic tone.

“I am Nigel the Fourth of the great Northbrush family, the true heir to the crown of Seawatch. I am also the rightful heir to our house seat, Great Falls, which is now in control by Maven Whitesands. For years now, I have been trying to win it back. It belongs to me!”

The Noble fell to his knees, crying again. Hoppe spat and walked back to the remains of our campfire. Hogfarmer, the largest man in The Brotherhood, came next. His mane of black hair swayed in the wind as he walked.

“Tragic,” he said. “Why don’t you go drown your sorrows in some fancy Seawatch wine and leave us be?”

“I wish I could, friend.” Nigel’s voice grew somber. “I have none of my luxuries now. It’s all because of Clan Whitesands and that demon Maven. They robbed me of everything!”

“Not everything,” Hogfarmer said, reaching toward Nigel with one of his massive, hairy hands. “Is that a coin purse I see around your waist? I wonder how much you have in there.”

Nigel took his little pouch and opened it, stepping away from my brother. The noble dug his finger around inside, counting his coins. “15 copper pieces. It is the very last of my wealth.”

Hogfarmer snatched it with such force that Nigel dropped to his elbows. “It’s ours now. Can’t remember the last time we had money like this. I think we'll treat ourselves to something.”

My Brothers and I cheered, spitting at the noble. The Scholar, disinterested in the whiny elite, had taken the time to get the fire going, however. The first few flames were starting to grow as the winds settled down a bit. It was my hope that we could get the fish roasting, and Nigel would sulk away, humiliated. I didn’t hear his squeaky voice for a long time, and finally, thought we could be at peace.

“You want fine wine?” he said. “I know an inn just a few miles south of here, serving the best bottles in the region. The Dove’s Rest, it is called. I’ll head that way now and reserve you lot the finest room, with feather beds of course. You’ll get a discount.”

Hogfarmer grunted, the rest of us said nothing. As lovely as it sounded, we just wanted him to leave. The flames rose higher. The winds became a little more gentle. Nigel spoke one final time.

“And my coin? Keep it. We’ll call it payment. Crowns are hard for the likes of you to come by these days, right? All I ask is that you come to the inn to hear my offer."