The Wistful Cipher
Who was the King? Tariq Fahmy woke with the taste of salt on his lips, a sharp, metallic bite that lingered long after he had rinsed his mouth. He sat up in the dark, the damp wool of his blanket heavy against his shoulders, and listened to the rain hammering the tin roof of his quarters. It was a steady, punishing drumbeat, the kind that made the eaves drip like a broken clock. He knew the...
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