The Distant Summer
The banquet hall at Fort Halloway smelled of roasted pheasant, stale beer, and the metallic tang of a storm that had not yet broken, the air thick with the breath of two hundred men who had served the Crown in the foggy reaches of the industrial north, their faces illuminated by the flickering gaslights that cast long, dancing shadows against the brick walls, a scene of grotesque opulence that...
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