The frantic dogs barked and yelped as they ran around the cart startling the donkey that began to bay and stomp, nearly upsetting the cart. The marquis must have been particularly furious as he batted at his beloved dogs, going so far as to actually kick one in the ribs. The dog cried out pathetically and cowered away under the cart. The servants held back in an anxious huddle as they whispered amongst themselves, and the marquis’s guards finally caught up with the commotion as they surrounded the small wagon. The marquis had been hasty in beating his guards through the door, especially since he was receiving a delivery from a killer. Rezkin shook his head in disgust at these outworlders’ disregard for the Rules.

Marquis Addercroft stomped furiously into the cart where he leaned over the putrid body and gazed at its bloated, pasty face. The death was too fresh to account for most of the smell and appearance. The marquis grimaced in disgust and then finally took notice of the flowers sitting atop the mound of the former guildmaster’s belly. The blood drained from the marquis’s face, and even from the distance, Rezkin thought he could see the glisten of sweat break out on the man’s brow. Addercroft’s eyes darted around as though expecting to see the assailant watching him, which might have seemed paranoid except that Rezkin was watching.

Reaching into his coat, Addercroft pulled out a white handkerchief, which he used to mop his lip and brow. He then stretched forward with a shaky had to pluck a parchment from the wreath. Curious. Rezkin had not instructed the men to leave a message with the corpse. He wondered what the missive said. His curiosity was satisfied a moment later when a sudden, unexpected gust of wind snatched the small parchment from the older man’s wary hand. It fluttered in the breeze as it danced right past Rezkin’s topiary. No one was paying any attention to the small piece of paper, so Rezkin snagged it as it passed. Compliments of the Raven, was all it said. The warrior nearly rolled his eyes. Thieves were so melodramatic.

Finally noticing the waiting crowd, the marquis collected himself and stood straight. “It seems my cousin has had an unfortunate accident,” he stated loudly.

“An accident, my lord? His throat is slit,” protested the captain of the Addercroft House Guard.

Addercroft gave the man a look that could cut and said, “Yes, he must have ridden into a line. Have him prepared for burial immediately.” The marquis glanced around at all the confused faces and shrieked, “Now!”

A flurry of motion ensued as the marquis dropped down from the cart, and his retainers surged forward to collect the corpse and make burial arrangements. The captain of the guard followed Addercroft a short distance for a private conversation, which happened to take place just on the other side of Rezkin’s hiding spot.