Quinlan did not stay for the celebration any longer. When the opportunity came, he and his girls slipped away quietly.
He had his reasons.
First, he was tired. Bone-deep, soul-heavy tired.
Second, he preferred spending what energy he had left on his own people, not on strangers looking to drown their grief in ale.
Third, he knew the celebration would be hollow. Too many soldiers would be missing from it. Families were ruined on this day.
And finally, he didn't want to mingle too much. His reputation was still shrouded in mystery, and he liked it that way. He didn't want to be understood by strangers; it was best to keep things separate.
He would boost his name by pulling off miracles and winning battles he shouldn't, not by making friends with random members.
After all, soon they would be calling him leader.
