The Golden Oath
The iron bar struck your shoulder with a force that cracked the bone beneath the wool, sending a white-hot spike of pain down to your fingertips. You did not scream. You had not screamed in three years, not since the winter the frost took the last of the grain and the magistrate’s men came for the debt. You stood in the courtyard of the manor house, the stone cold and slick with rain, your...
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