The Distant Clue
The snow had not yet fallen when Elias left the monastery of St. Jude, though the air in the valley was already thick with the gray promise of winter, a chill that settled into the bones of the sixteen-year-old scribe as he walked the long, unpaved road toward the Bishop’s court. He carried little with him, only a woolen coat that had seen better decades and a small leather satchel in which...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews