The Distant Blade
The tally was simple: three hundred and twelve miles of fence, two hundred and forty miles of snow, and one promotion waiting in the mail. Elias Thorne counted them the way he counted his steps, a rigid, metronomic rhythm that kept the world from sliding out from under him. He was fifty-two, and the weight of the command sat heavy on his shoulders, a physical burden he carried with the grim...
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