The Faded Shield
The winter of 1348 did not arrive so much as it was exhaled from the earth, a cold so profound that the frost in the high windows of the monastery seemed to have grown teeth. Brother Thomas, the novice, stood before the great oak doors of the infirmary, his hands trembling not from the chill, but from the weight of the silence that pressed against the stone. Inside, the air was thick with the...
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