"Who found her?" Marcus asked the crowd, which had already grown since the arrival of the two Inquisitors. Townsfolk who witnessed their arrival followed them in, while more gathered simply because others had.

"I did," the smith answered, raising his hand. A tall, bald man with thick arms and skin toughened by years at the heat of the forge.

"How? When?"

"I was woken, just before sunrise, heard a noise that woke me up. I was still too asleep to even know what I heard, just that I heard it, if you know what I mean?"

"I do," Marcus replied, "that's happened to me before."

"Ok, well, I lay awake for a moment, then I thought maybe it was a thief coming back to rob my house so I grabbed my knife and got up to look around. Couldn't find anyone inside the house so I went out to check the forge and that's when I saw her lying against the back wall," the smith said, gesturing to the pale girl at the Inquisitors' feet, "thought she was sleeping and I tried shaking her awake. That's when I saw she wasn't breathing and I raised the alarm."

"And you saw nothing? No one?"

"No, like I said, I was asleep and the sun wasn't up yet. Took me a minute to come to my senses before I remembered about thieves, then I checked the house before looking outside."

"You've mentioned thieves a few times." Marcus stated. Alexander eyed the crowd that had tripled in size since he arrived. Some were comforting the girl's parents, many were simply stopping to observe the spectacle as they passed by. Very little out of the ordinary happened in a place like Croton and when it did the people, hungry for novelty, would swarm on it like flies.

"Yes, Inquisitor. I was robbed recently. Someone stole a bag of iron discs from my home."

"Iron discs?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, about this big," the smith said as he made a circle with his thumb and finger about the size of a coin, "I was going to make good luck charms out of them, or possibly," he began with a glance towards Alexander, "bring them to your apprentice so he could, if he had time."

"When did this theft happen?"

"A few weeks ago, maybe a month now."

"I don't recall you mentioning anything about a theft when we were in town before."

"Didn't want to bother the Inquisition with someone stealing my scrap iron project. Besides, I didn't know how or when exactly it happened, and at first I wasn't sure I didn't just misplace them."

"Fair enough," Marcus replied before turning to the crowd of onlookers. "Did anyone else see anything? Hear anything? Anything at all?"

The crowd was quiet, everyone looking around to see if anyone else would come forward. A few people murmured among themselves.

"Actually seen or heard anything, mind you," Marcus continued, "I don't want to hear if you had a funny feeling about her a week ago or if you had a dream about a crow the night before. Seen with your own waking eyes."

When no one came forward Marcus shrugged and turned to Alexander. "Let's see what she can tell us, then."

The two men knelt down beside the body. Alexander felt odd seeing her lay so still. She looked as though she just needed a loud noise or a shake and she'd wake up, the only indication she wasn't sleeping was her lack of breathing.

"Tell me what you see, Inquisitor," Marcus said after a moment, standing back up, "My knees are too old to be crouching for long these days."

"No blood on the ground under her, no obvious wounds, I don't think she was stabbed."

"Check her back, anything?"

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Alexander gently rolled the girl forward and lifted her cloak before rolling her back. "No blood or wounds behind her, either."

"What else? Check her hands and nails."

Alexander lifted her arm, surprised by the coolness of her flesh in his hand, and examined her in the light of the morning sun.

"No injuries on her hands or arms, nothing but dirt under her nails."

The young Inquisitor lowered the girl's arms with care, knowing that her parents were watching his every move, trying to be as respectful as possible. He moved up to her head, carefully turning it to observe her entire face.

"No wounds to her face either," Alexander said before standing up.

Marcus nodded and walked to the girl's parents.

"We have finished our examination, you may have her taken to be prepared, but we'd like to ask you some questions as well."

Alexander watched as several young men, identified as slaves by the collars around their necks, arrived and carried the girl off. The mother let out a loud cry as the body was picked up, the father clenched his jaw tight but kept silent despite the tears streaming down his face. Marcus walked over to an older woman who Alexander recognized as one of the midwives and spoke something to her, receiving a faint nod in response before he rejoined his apprentice.

"What did you say to her?" Alexander whispered with a nod of his head towards the midwife.

"I asked her to check if the girl had been lain with recently when she dresses the body, and to tell us only if so." Marcus whispered back.

"You think she was forced? With no one hearing?" Alexander asked, keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid being heard by anyone but Marcus.

"Perhaps, the fear of a knife can keep mouths shut tight. Or, she had a lover who became displeased with her when he was finished. Wouldn't be the first time a man killed to cover up his own shame."

Alexander nodded and continued in silent procession behind the girl's parents as the group made their way to the bakery the girls family operated. The slaves would carry the body inside through the back, placing her on a table for the midwife to clean and wrap for the funeral. Midwives tended to all aspects of a woman's health, from delivering her into the world, advising her on all aspects of marriage and pregnancy and childbirth and motherhood; it was only fitting for the midwife to tend to her one last time at the end.

"First, let me say, I am sorry for the loss of your daughter," Marcus began when they arrived at the back of the house. The father nodded, the mother only looked toward the door where her girl had been taken.

"How was the girl's health? Was she prone to sickness or fainting?"

"No, she was always healthy, full of- of life," the father choked.

"When did you last see her?"

"Last night, as we all went to bed."

"You did not see or hear her leave the house?"

"No, she sleeps in a corner of the store room on the main floor. We, her mother and I and her siblings, we sleep in the upper level. We permitted her to sleep downstairs after our youngest was born."

"Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"

The father shook his head in response.

"Did she have any friends we could speak to? She was more than old enough to marry, did she have any suitors?"

"There was one boy, Edwin's oldest, but I rejected him. Edwin is a poor farmer with little property, our daughter could do better. We wanted a more beneficial match than Edwin's boy."

"And friends?"

"Edmond the carpenter's oldest, Elena, they would play together as girls. I think they are still close." The man said, before correcting himself, "Were close."

"Where could I find both of these households?"

Once given directions to the homes of both Edwin and Edmond, Marcus and Alexander thanked the parents for their help, apologized again for the loss of their daughter, and departed.

"We'll speak to Edwin's boy first, the suitor, then talk to the friend." Marcus said to Alexander as he put his helmet back on. Alexander put his own helmet on as well, knowing that he would likely remove it as soon as the two men arrived at their destination. Marcus had taught him early on to always remove his helmet when speaking to people unless he had reason to believe he was in danger. Exposing oneself, even a little bit, showed you trusted people and when people feel trusted they tend to trust in return.

"Are we sure she was even murdered?" Alexander replied, "I could find no injuries on her body."

"I suppose it's possible she died of some unknown malady," Marcus said, "but a healthy young woman doesn't typically drop dead after sneaking out of the house at night. I am assuming she wasn't abducted from her home, too hard to get her out without waking everyone up."

"It was a cold night, perhaps she froze?"

"Perhaps, cold does do strange things to the mind, but she was dressed, wearing a cloak, and with shelter all around her, plus the night should not have been cold enough to kill her that quickly, and if she was freezing we should have found her curled up for warmth rather than stretched out as she was." Marcus said.

"How else could she have died then?"

"Lots of ways to kill someone without it being obvious. Strangulation doesn't always leave a mark, nor does suffocation. There's always poison, and once I saw a boxer take a punch just so to the side of the head, suffered a seizure and was dead a minute later."

Alexander frowned and nodded. The town was abuzz with activity now, farmers and merchants and slaves going about their business. He could hear the distant sound of hammering metal from the blacksmith.

"Let's continue to ask questions and see what we can learn, though without witnesses this investigation may not accomplish much beyond letting the people know we'll at least try to deal with crimes." Marcus said as the pair passed the outskirts of the town and began walking down the road leading to Edwin's farm.