The Distant Blade
The frost had crept up the windowpanes of the community hall in a lacework of white, sealing the room in a silence that felt heavier than the winter air outside. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and cheap beer, a communal warmth that seemed to exclude the one figure standing near the radiator. Silas Vane, the town’s only constable, watched the steam rise from the mug in...
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