The Distant Affair
The bell tower was silent. It had been silent for forty years. Thomas stood on the damp stone of the courtyard. His hands were thick with age and the residue of iron filings. He was a keeper. That was his title. Not a soldier, not a lord, but a keeper. He kept the gates. He kept the silence. He kept the memory of what the birds used to be. The wind off the river was cold. It bit through his...
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