The Golden Oath
Act I The black soil of the Norman plain stretches to the horizon, a flat expanse of mud and iron where the bronze-casting clan works the tithe barns under the hard, thin light of a bad year. It is a season of short days and long debts, where the weight of the grain in the jars is the only currency that holds value against the cold. I am Anouk Dumas, a collector of taxes owed in kind, and I...
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