The Pale Letter
Thorne, you look as if you’ve swallowed a coal. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood rigid in the snow, his breath pluming in the grey air of the border post, while his younger brother Julian tugged at the hem of his coat, his small face pale with a terror that had nothing to do with the cold. Elias was forty, a man carved from duty and iron, and he wanted only one thing: the permanent promotion to...
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