The Pale Dance
The rain had stopped, but the mud remained, a thick, sucking paste that held the boots of the men in the courtyard as if the earth itself were trying to swallow them whole, and Thomas stood at the center of it, his hands shaking not from the cold which was a biting, physical thing that gnawed at his knuckles, but from the sudden, terrifying silence that followed the order, for the Lord had...
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