The Distant Crown
The toll receipt for the salt roads, dated the third day of the deep freeze, listed one unit of iron, two units of grain, and a debt of silence owed to the north. Miral Maiden held the paper until the edges softened in his damp gloves. He was thirty-two, a warden of the northern gate, and the winter solstice was three days away. The gate had to be sealed. If it was not, the clans would cross,...
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