The Pale Altar

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2026-08-24 21:19:53 -

The Pale Altar

The water must be cut, Thomas said, his voice low and rough against the scratch of the quill, and the silence in the scriptorium was heavier than the oak beams overhead. Lord Blackwood sat at the far end of the table, a man whose hands were soft and pale, untouched by the soil that paid his wages, and he did not look up from the ledger he was balancing. The ledger was a heavy thing, bound in...

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