The Distant Clue
The autumn of 1348 settled over the city of York like a damp shroud, and I, Elias Thorne, stood in the shadow of the north transept with my hands blackened by dust and my heart pounding with a frantic, desperate need to prove my worth to the Guild before the first frost could seal the mortar in its premature death. I was forty years old, a master mason by title but a boy by spirit in the eyes...
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