Daniel hated it, but he loved the fucking. There was nothing better than the first touch of your finger to a woman's cunt and finding it soaking wet for you. That first taste of her always got him harder than steel. He loved sinking his cock inside a woman. Seeing the shock and fear on their faces when they felt his cock stretch them beyond what they thought was possible. And sometimes a good ass fucking gets thrown in the mix. Daniel smiled at the thought and kept chopping, hitting the branches with accuracy and efficiency.

But mostly, they took from him. They lay there expecting him to do all the work. It was never two people fucking. Just him fucking them.

If only one of them had responded with passion, he might have been convinced to take things further. But none of them ever did.

Daniel wrinkled his nose at the strange smell that he was only now just starting to notice. It was a sweet smell but unpleasant. He struggled to place it but couldn't and kept swinging his axe. After a moment, the smell grew stronger with the rise of a slight breeze.

The smell was coming from where Daniel had pulled the fallen tree free. It was a sickly-sweet smell. Daniel then realised what it was.

It was the smell of decay.

"By the Gods, that's rank," he said out loud and his mule snorted.

It must be a dead animal. I should clear it away. Daniel carefully started to make his way up the tree trunk stepping carefully through the branches and dead foliage where they obscured the ground. As he moved up the length of the tree, the branches and leaves grew thicker. He heard the buzzing of flies and saw an area where they were thick. The smell grew stronger, and Daniel gagged. He lifted his shirt to his nose and breathed through it, but it didn't help.

He stopped close to where the flies were. He couldn't see anything through the branches. He swung his axe close to the trunk and severed a thick branch with one blow. He pulled it free, and the flies darted into the air in a swarm, buzzing in anger. He ignored them as best he could and removed another branch. He spied the body at once. He could see boots with the toes sticking up. Pants rose up to disappear within the hem of a robe. The rest of the body was hidden under more branches and leaves.

“Dear Gods," breathed Daniel, recognising the robes. “That's Eric the spell caster."

IT DIDN'T TAKE Daniel much time to clear the area surrounding Eric's corpse. Once he had the area cleared and thrown up once, he looked down at the body. Eric had been impaled by two large branches and his upper torso had been crushed by the tree trunk. Daniel imagined it had been pretty painless. He then spent another hour removing the corpse and stripping it of all possessions. He had thrown up repeatedly during this effort. Maggots and other insects swarmed in and over the body. The state of decay had been bad. The effort to remove the robe, boots, and other belongings, including the spell book still clutched in one hand, had broken pieces off the corpse and released even more noxious fumes.

When it was done, Daniel had buried the body. He had no idea what words to say or even what God the spell caster might have worshipped.

So, he made it as generic as he could and then covered the body with dirt.

Thankfully, there was a stream nearby that flowed down from the mountains nearby to the river. He washed the robe, pants, shirt, and shoes. Despite his best efforts, he swore he could still smell the rot of decay from the garments. He returned to the gravesite and sat next to the other belongings. He worried the gods would look poorly on him for robbing the corpse. Then he thought perhaps the gods would Look poorly on him if he just left the stuff. In the end, his curiosity won him over.

Eric had carried a simple bag slung over his shoulder. Daniel opened it and saw darkness inside. He hesitantly put a hand inside and was astonished to find the bag full of items. He started pulling them out, one after another, until a massive pile was formed beside him.

He had found four sets of clothes, one more robe, dress shoes, preserved food packed in wooden crates, plates, pots, pans, eating utensils, cups, at least fifty feet of rope, a small folding ladder, ink wells, quills, writing paper, a few smutty novels, a sleeping roll, pillow, lantern and oil, several metal vials of a variety of colours, an empty suitcase, a large pouch, a small pouch, and several scroll cases. And other things. Everything you might find in someone's house. Daniel stared at the bag in disbelief. The bag was much larger on the inside than on the outside.

Daniel put everything back except for the pouches and scroll cases.

He opened the large pouch and found it fill with coin. Platinum, gold and silver coins. Daniel whooped with joy. I'm rich! Richer than anyone! He already saw himself waving goodbye to the farm and heading to the city. With this money, he could buy a house and live Like a baron for the rest of his life.

Giddy with excitement, he opened the small pouch. Inside was an egg made from solid marble. It felt strangely warm and far too heavy for the size. Daniel tapped it and turned it over before dropping it back in the small pouch.

Next, he opened one of the scroll cases. He shook out the contents and a rolled-up sheet of parchment slid out into his waiting hand.

He carefully uncurled the top part and then squeezed his eyes shut.

The writing had swum before his eyes, and he felt that he might fall over. He curled the scroll back up and returned it to the case.

"Spell caster scrolls. I heard you couldn't read them without the skill to do so," he muttered. He knew he could sell them, and they would be worth a lot. Spells on scrolls were valuable. The caster could release the spell with little to no effort. Daniel remembered that from lectures his father had given him as a child.

He let his gaze fall on the spell book. Rumours were only the owner could read or make use of them. Inside would be all the knowledge to cast a variety of spells, carefully found, learned, and transcribed by Eric. Rumours also said the book would explode if opened by anyone other than the owner. Eric knew both those rumours to be false. His father had, on occasion, come into possession of spell books. They fetched an enormous sum, especially from a seasoned spell caster. The knowledge of the arcane was a closely guarded secret by the spell casters.