The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 20:55:02 -

The Distant Joke

The leather of the saddle had worn thin against Eamon’s thigh, a raw and stinging chafe that throbbed in time with his horse’s heavy, plodding gait as he pushed north through the mist. He was forty years old, a knight of the Iron Guard, and he carried with him a single, folded document that felt heavier than the steel breastplate he no longer wore. The debt of honor owed to his late brother,...

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