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Chapter 70: Burning the River Lands
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Chapter 72: The Flight of the Slain
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... avy with the damp breath of early autumn. Fires burned low in broad hearths, struggling against the chill that coiled along the stone floors.
Rich tapestries did little to warm the air. Their intricate scenes of saints and martyrs now seemed to leer down with thin smiles, as if amused by the hushed urgency of the men gathered below.
Cnut sat upon his oaken throne, a massive thing carved with writhing beasts whose jaws devoured each other in endless hunger.
He leaned one e ...
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