Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter One In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, the deserted mansion slept. Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it.
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