The Distant Cartograph
Act I The highlands of the Kamakura court were not a place of gentle hills but a jagged spine of stone and tussock, where the wind did not blow so much as it scraped the flesh from the air, and the only sound that cut through the howling rain was the rhythmic, hollow cooing of the dovecote perched above the scriptorium, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of the bones of those who...
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