The Golden Song
Chapter One Maire Brannigan’s hands, still slick with the grease of the lock mechanism, hovered over the long banquet table in the garrison’s stone hall, the metal cold and unyielding against his palms as he tried to steady the tremor that had taken hold of his fingers since the sirocco had begun three days prior. The air in the vaulted room was heavy with stale beer and wet wool, and the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews