The Golden Oath
The ledger showed forty-two names. Elias Thorne counted them twice, his finger dragging the ink across the parchment until the fibers frayed. He was thirty years old, and his hands, usually steady enough to sign warrants for treason, trembled slightly as he adjusted the leather satchel at his hip. Inside sat the Golden Oath. It was not a large stone, no bigger than a walnut, but it weighed as...
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