Qual.
Before the great battle in which the Overlord was slain, half of Tocoto's men deserted. Because of their departure and the losses in combat, he had enough gold to pay Captain Gregor and the remaining troops what they had not been paid in twelve days. Because of that, he was fairly confident they would be quiet til they returned to the capital.
He came to in a ditch on the side of the road, his purse cut from his belt, his sword and armor removed, blood on his tunic, and Captain Gregor standing over him with a grim grin, with some of the other troops standing around him.
"Miserable greedy bastards," Tocoto managed to say, the words coming through thickly.
His new captain gave a laugh. "You promised pay. But you waited til after the lads had been killed in sufficient number, didn't you? Such an honorable knight. This is the least you deserve."
"What... what would you know of honor?"
"May be I don't know anything about it, sir. Not like I'm a bloody high born myself. Not like I've ever had anything but you stuffed-up gentlemen commanders, too concerned 'bout your precious honor to bother caring about the men who fight for you."
"You didn't fight for me. You people ran off before the !@#$ing battle."
"The ones that didn't get killed by ungodly demons, yes. They're the lucky ones, seems like. Turns out I can make some luck of my own, and not get killed."
"What are you going to do, talk to me to death then? Have some mercy and use the sword."
"Nah," Gregor said with another laugh. "You don't deserve mercy. Seems like the glory and honor is all you care about. So that's what we'll take-"
"-and your fancy sword and armor and the gold you owe us too!" someone else pointed out.
"Aye, and word will spread of what a piss-poor knight you are. All your high lordly and lady friends will hear of what a piss-poor knight you are, and they'll laugh behind your back, but that'll be just fine, since you'll always get more soldiers to send to the slaughter for no pay. Maybe one of them will give you some mercy one day. Not us, though. We let you go home just as you are."
"Hey Gregor, seems to me he's poor, we took all he has. But maybe not piss poor."
"Aye, Armunt's right, ain't he, lads? So here's one gift, from us to you, sir."
* * *
Later, Tocoto dunked himself into the freezing water of a mountain stream, but his clothes would not be rid of the stench, nor the shame. By nightfall he couldn't stay warm, and had to bury himself in underbrush, leaves, and dirt to keep from freezing, and when sunrise came his stinking clothes were ragged and a lingering cough was settling in his chest. It was a long way home.
