The Distant Promise
The fever broke at dawn, leaving Elias Thorne gasping in the damp straw of his cot, the taste of rot and honey still clinging to the back of his throat. He was a sergeant of the King’s guard, though the title felt like a heavy stone in his mouth, useless against the grey wall of sickness that had swallowed half the village of Oakhaven. In the dream, his wife Margaret had stood by the hearth,...
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