"Ain't here. Bunnies have 'is carcass up in the village square." the orc said flatly. He knew the value of an enemy skull on a pole, but the idea that Brand was defiled in this way struck a savage chord with the orc, and it was picked up by the slinking mass of fur and muscle he came with, as a rumbling growl erupted from the the beast's chest. He'd heard rumors when they streamed back to his camp as other mercenaries, upset over the lack of pay that generally prevailed, except to certain captains being promised land and title, left. 

They'd been not-so-subtly encouraged to behave in Ceril, on account of the crown having already put muscle in power with lands and title, but Vendland was a different sort of mess where pillaging was the rule, as unpaid mercenaries took their due. The Orcish company was in a strange position of owning lands and stopping bandits that thought they'd carry on as they had in Vendland. So Dakgu had went along with a couple hunting parties and got the news that way.

"Harold's not payin' his mercs, and Brand was shieldin' Barkstead's cubs. Harold wanted the t-t-title to give away to one of his henchmen, wot I heard." Dakgu decided to provide more information as clarification; it sounded like wherever Diēscogitō went into exile, the news didn't come that easily.

Guess the bunnies thought that's a good way to make people not want to rebel," the orc added grimly and coldly, with a hawk and a spit, which was to say that he didn't sound all that dissuaded from going to town and doing precisely that.