The Distant Blade

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2026-08-25 09:36:20 -

The Distant Blade

Lahore moved in the heat, a city of looms and dust where the air hung heavy with the scent of wet wool and old stone. I was Abdullah Yousafzai, a weaver of silk in the high valleys, and I wanted only to finish the commission for the Duke by winter to pay my debts. The steward arrived at the scullery door, his shadow stretching across the stone trough in a way that did not match the sun, a minor...

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