The Golden Quest
The mud in the King’s Ditch was thick and cold, clinging to my boots as I dragged the dead man’s boots off. It was the fourteenth of November, 1342, and the rain had turned the streets of London into a slurry of filth. I found the circlet in the mud. It was gold, heavy, and warm despite the sleet. I wiped it on my tunic. My hands shook, not from the cold, but from the debt that hung over my...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews