The Golden Quest
The frost had eaten the window glass, turning the view into a web of white lace that trapped the dying light of the hearth. I sat in the corner of the great hall, my back against the cold stone, and watched the embers pulse like the heart of a dying beast. The air was thick with the smell of wet wool and old iron. It was the night before the muster, the night when the King’s men would arrive to...
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