The Faded Shield
Chapter One The iron remembers. That was the first thing Ketil Bakken learned, standing in the wire room of the brokerage, the air thick with the metallic tang of ozone and old sweat. He was forty-two, a number that felt less like a fact and more like a diagnosis, etched into the stiffness of his joints. Across the room, the High King sat behind a desk cluttered with levee commission reports,...
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