The Pale Shadows
The feast in the Great Hall of the Monastery of Saint Jude had been going on for three days, a relentless, deafening roar of clinking silver, the splashing of red wine into clay goblets, and the low, thrumming bass of lute strings that seemed to vibrate against the very stones of the foundation, yet Aldous, the master dyer and keeper of the indigo vats, sat in the far corner near the cold...
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