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A Killer of Dead Men

Otranto didn't hesitate. On some level, he realized, he had been anticipating this moment, or one like it, for a very long time. "The punishment for failure should be death by my own hand."

Otranto knew better than to ask why any man must die.
So Strange the Trees

Alquen waited there, sitting in the lee of a tall elm, for three hours, barely aware of time passing. He wore his finest clothes: a blue silk shirt with only two threadbare places, black tunic and breeches covered with a burgundy cloak. He felt ridiculous and handsome at the same time.

Alquen waited there. He felt ridiculous and handsome at the same time.
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A Killer of Dead Men
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Otranto knew better than to ask why any man must die.
From the Archives:
The Calendar of Saints
I accept mortal commissions; I’ve killed before.