The Golden Oath

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2026-08-23 21:19:08 -

The Golden Oath

The chalice spoke first. It did not shout, nor did it whisper in a way that could be mistaken for the wind rattling the dungeon bars. It said, Thomas. The name hung in the damp air of the keep, heavy and golden, vibrating against the stone. Sir Thomas Bradshaw held the vessel in his gloved hands, his knuckles white, his breath shallow. He was thirty years old, a man who had seen the mud of...

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