The Distant Wound
The ledger weighed four pounds. Thomas Bradshaw felt the weight in his wrists as he lifted it from the table, the leather cover cracked and stiff with age. It was the third morning of the trial, and the square outside was already crowded with those who wished to see the end of it. He needed to find the entry. He needed to find the name that would justify the fire. The Inquisition’s rule was...
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