The Last Crusader of Canterbury
I. The rope was rough against William of Canterbury's throat. Anselm watched from the back of the crowd, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his nails drew blood from his palms, and he memorized the face of the man who had pulled the lever. Cardinal Decimus stood on a wooden platform beside the绞刑架, his crimson robes bright against the gray sky of an English March. He looked down at...
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