The Pale Banner
The mud in the trench was thick and black, sucking at Thomas’s boots with every step. He was twelve years old, and his hands shook so badly that the rusted iron shield he clutched rattled against his ribs. Before him, the gate of Alderford was splintering under the battering rams of the enemy, the wood screaming as it gave way. Thomas did not see the fear in the eyes of the men around him; he...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews