"Excellent, excellent," a voice said.
Cassandra stopped walking and looked at the person emerging from the small hut in the camp.
The man before her was groomed as neatly as a seagull. His light brown hair was combed forward, and he wore a surprisingly well-fitting deep blue robe with several conspicuous gold stripes running diagonally across it. His slender neck and wrists were adorned with numerous bangles and ornaments.
These items were not cheap, indicating he was a wealthy man.
And it was well known that there were few wealthy people on Kefalonia Island.
The man walked over to the still-living archer and looked down at the person writhing and convulsing on the ground. Then he drew a short sword from his waist.
As naturally as slicing into a roasted chicken, he placed the short sword under the archer's throat and gave a steady pull.
A pool of blood gushed from beneath the severed skin, and the convulsing body fell into a deathly stillness.
