The Faded Alibi
The rain did not fall so much as it was pressed down by the weight of the grey sky, a relentless, cold hand pinning the mud to the earth and the men to their knees in the courtyard of the old manor. Thomas Bradshaw felt the wet leather of his tunic slick against his spine, the cold seeping into the marrow of his bones, but it was the heat of the sword in his hand that was the true danger, a...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen