The Pale Banner
The wool bales weighed four hundred pounds each, and Elias Thorne counted them with the dull, mechanical precision of a man whose joints had begun to ache before the sun had cleared the ridge. There were thirty-two bales in the warehouse, each one stamped with the Thorne crest, a pale banner snapping in a wind that did not exist in the physical world. Elias rubbed the grit from his eyes, the...
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