The Golden Circuit
1348, March 12 The ink is still wet when I write this, but my hand shakes too much to wait for it to dry. I am Thomas Bradshaw, Sergeant of the King’s Guard, though the title means nothing now that the city is a tomb. I want only one thing: to get the grain cart from the docks to the orphanage on High Street before the winter freeze takes Elias. He is twelve, my brother, and he is starving. The...
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