The Faded River
The count of sacks was the first thing to fail, the arithmetic of the grain laws dissolving into the wet, sucking sound of timber giving way beneath the weight of the Duke’s men. Elias Thorne had spent thirty years in the service of the crown, his life a rigid ledger of duties, his hands calloused by the grip of a sword and the cold steel of a scale, and then, as the floor of the Blackwater...
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