The Distant Clue

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2026-08-19 06:39:56 -

The Distant Clue

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pork and old wood. It was a heavy scent, thick enough to chew. Thomas Ashworth sat at the long table, his tunic stiff with sweat. The candles flickered, casting long, trembling shadows against the stone walls. He did not eat. He watched the hands of the men around him. They moved with a grace he envied. Their fingers were soft. His were cracked. His knuckles...

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