The Distant Clue

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2026-08-21 18:39:20 -

The Distant Clue

The feast was loud. Cider sloshed in wooden bowls. The smell of roasted pig and wet wool hung thick in the air. I stood at the edge of the table. My hand rested on my hilt. My fingers were cold. The firelight danced on my face. It felt like a lie. "Drink, Thomas," said the steward. He was a large man. His voice was like gravel. "The King’s men are here to honor the garrison." I drank. The cider...

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