His fingers were cold, from prying dirt from the frozen ground. His face was cold, from the icy kiss of the wind. Winter was a cruel lover, and as it wrapped Heinrick in its chilly embrace, he shuddered. He had been through worse. Besides, the weather nearly insured that no one would pass by and catch him about his macabre work. A man has to provide for his family somehow, doesn’t he?

And so Heinrick dug his hands into the earth of an old grave in the churchyard cemetery, hoping to find something worth selling to Gavin, the shopkeep in Bramsford. Gavin was what those in the business called a fence. He bought stolen goods cheap, and sold them to passers through the town. Not that there were many of those this time of year. Winter is not the best season for pilgrims, or other sorts of travelers. No indeed, not the best sort of weather for anyone. If he found anything valuable Heinrick’s first act with the money would be to buy himself a nice warm coat, and some new working gloves. The ones he had on had holes in nearly all the fingers and let the snow in.

In his pocket was a silver crucifix and a finger bone. The crucifix was going to Gavin, and as for the finger, an old woman outside town always wanted odd things like that, from the graveyard. Heinrick new better than to ask questions of the likes of her. Like as not to bring some sort of curse down on him she was. It was whispered around town that she was a worshipper of some forgotten pagan god, or maybe even the Old Dark. He doubted it. She was nice enough when brought what she wanted.

Nothing worth taking, as usual. As Heinrick began to pile the dirt back into the grave he heard someone speaking from behind him.

“O Heinrick” the voice began “I never thought I would find you here, thought you were on the straight and narrow.”

Heinrick found himself frozen by more than the wind, but with the easy grace of the lower class went right back to business as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh no sir, yoe see sir, I was just…”

“Spare you excuses,” the voice interrupted “they are better saved for some other fool who might believe them.”

He knew his goose was cooked, it was hard to come up with an excuse for why you were digging up old graves.

“Empty out your pockets Heinrick.”

He did as he was told. The man leaning against the corner of the church came over to inspect what he had.

“Who did you get this bone for?” The man asked.

“Poor old woman.” Heinrick thought, “She’ll be roped to a pier before the sun sets.”