The Distant Affair
The bell did not ring. It hung silent from its iron hook, a dark tear of metal in the dim air of the workshop. It had not rung in three years. Not since the last order was cancelled. Not since the Guild changed the laws. Silas stood before the anvil. His back was straight, though his shoulders shook. He was a man made of old leather and dried sweat. The room smelled of coal dust and cold iron....
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