The Distant Legend
The mud weighed forty pounds per cubic foot, a density Elias Thorne had learned to respect before he learned to fear it. He counted the seconds between the cracks in the earth, one, two, three, feeling the cold seep through the soles of his boots. The needle of the brass compass in his palm trembled, not toward north, but toward the center of the skirmish line where the sound had gone thin. He...
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