The Golden Oath
The leather satchel struck the floorboards with a dull, heavy thud that seemed to shake the dust from the eaves of the small workshop, and Elias Thorne stood there, his hand still raised from the throw, watching the brass calipers settle into the straw lining with a metallic clink that echoed the finality of the moment. He had packed the satchel in the dark, the only light coming from a tallow...
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