The Distant Legend
The iron bit of the horse bit into the foam of his mouth, and the dust of the road rose in a thick, choking cloud that turned the afternoon light into a bruised, muddy yellow. Thomas Bradshaw did not look at the man falling from the saddle behind him. He did not look at the other two riders who were swinging their heavy, leather-wrapped fists with the rhythmic precision of men who had done this...
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