Kalys wiped his blade clean on the merchant's tunic then reached into the cadaver's boot and pulled free a pouch of gold.  "That's the last time you try to run," he spoke silently.  He slapped the horse on the flank to scare it into running off with its modest cart.  Someone would recognize the cart, or what remained of it, when the horse returned.  He cocked his head to the side thinking he heard a noise.  Walking slowly to the edge of the stand of trees he looked out onto the meadow and spotted a young maiden.  Did she hear the merchant cry out just moments before?  Kalys jumped up, grabbing onto a low branch and pulled himself higher into the tree, sliding the blade back within the folds of his cloak.  He raised his hood and pulled the cloak tighter about himself and watched her.  A young thing, younger than himself certainly and quite pretty.  "Don't come over here," he whispered.