“Well, what do you make of it?” The well-dressed magistrate asked his servant.
The skinny man removed his hands from the gaping wound with ease born of familiarity. This wasn’t the first corpse he’d handled.
“A blade, master, however it is one I do not know.”
“Hm,” the magistrate mused, pulling at his short goatee. “A brutal murder, an unknown bladed weapon, and the last people to see the deceased claim he was arguing with his rival.”
It was all a little too neat, suspicious. He knew who would have been blamed had he not been passing through the town.