The Golden Maze
Act I Malcolm Toshach had carried the weight of his brother’s life in a glass vial for three days, and the cold of the heath was beginning to crack the seal. It was the third year of the reign of King Aethelred, though in the silk town of Skye, where the looms clattered like the jaws of hungry beasts, the king’s name mattered less than the tax collector’s ledger. Malcolm was thirty-two, an...
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