Marius tore away another hunk of meat from off the bone with his teeth, ignoring the dribble of grease down his chins. These Bree-landers took great pride in their boar, displaying its image on banners all around their city, but Marius himself thought the meat to be tough and gamey. A cloud of dust formed not far off. He grunted as he eased himself to his feet, remnants of food falling off his lap to the ground as he stood and made his way to meet the source of the dust.
One of his men dismounted his horse while the other brought their newly acquired cart to a stop. Marius smiled broadly as he approached the cart, pieces of meat still stuck in his teeth. “At last we have you, Dazelia! You gave us quite the—“ He stopped abruptly as he looked down into the bed of the cart, seeing not Dazelia but the unconscious form of the cart's driver instead. “What is this?” he shouted. “I told you to bring back the girl, not the useless foreman! What happened?”
Marius' face darkened and he grew more and more furious as they related the events of the failed kidnapping and ensuing chase. Finally he stalked up to the man who knocked out Dazelia, glared up at him, and struck him in the face with the boar shank he still held. The man simply stood there, his faced still turned away from the strike. Oddly, he seemed afraid, despite his portly employer's diminutive stature. Marius growled, spun on his heal, and stalked back to camp barking orders as he went. “Take care of him—make sure he never wields a mace with that hand again! Secure the foreman! Maybe we can get something out of him. You!” He jabbed a greasy finger at one of his men. “Scour the town! Find out what happened to Dazelia. Find. That. Girl! And do it quietly. We don't need anyone coming to look for us.”
Marius plopped himself down on a bench and grabbed a goblet of wine as his cold eyes scanned the people rushing to and fro. He had come too far to lose his quarry here. He would have her. One way or the other.
