The Distant Crown
The arrow struck Elias Vane in the shoulder with a force that spun him into the mud, the wet earth of the besieged castle wall soaking through his scholar’s tunic. He gasped, the breath leaving him in a ragged shudder, as the taste of copper flooded his mouth. Around him, the siege engines groaned and the air grew thick with the scent of burning pitch and unwashed bodies. He was forty years...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews