The Wistful Witness
The feast was held in the long, low hall of the village green, where the air hung heavy with the scent of roasted lamb, spiced wine, and the damp, earthy breath of the surrounding fens, a celebration that had been promised to the scholars of the old university for a century, yet had only now been granted by the hands of the warlord who had razed the southern provinces and left the northern...
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