Still shaken, Saiyier returned to his room and immediately began writing furiously.
After describing what had just happened in Gravel Town as concisely yet thoroughly as possible, he climbed out the window and left the note in an alley behind his house.
Carrier pigeons were simply too conspicuous near the Supreme Road.
Training falcons required an investment that a bandit gang like theirs could never afford.
They could only resort to the most primitive method.
Fortunately, primitive though it was, the method was effective enough.
But before Saiyier could reflect any further after returning to his room, he heard a commotion in the street.
There was the clash of blades, followed by the agonized cries of someone falling to the ground.
Saiyier eased his window open and saw a familiar figure running past, pursued by a squad of militiamen carrying torches and short swords.
Had that fellow been discovered?
Saiyier froze, recognizing him at a glance.
His duties in Gravel Town extended beyond watching the passing caravans. He was also responsible for recruiting "talent."
And Gravel Town, situated at the starting end of the Supreme Road, never lacked the appeal to draw caravans and "talent."
The man before him was one such prospect.
He was a capable hand who had committed several robberies in southern Saint Seanda and killed more than a dozen people!
Saiyier had noticed him the moment he entered Gravel Town.
Had other annoying fellows not already attached themselves to the man, Saiyier would have contacted him long ago.
But now?
Saiyier glanced at the fellow lying on the ground and sneered inwardly.
He had not the slightest sympathy for competitors in his line of work. He wished they would die sooner-and more horribly.
Vaughn must have done it.
*Aside from Vaughn, no one in the militia