The poor lads called and called, but they were grown and had forgotten the best places to hide.
There are no more gates, only hinges clinging to the walls like broken spiders.
I have not harmed her. I have not allowed harm to come to her. It's more than her lot has ever offered me, and English has seen what befalls them when they press the boot on our necks. She has survived the wages of justice through luck, mettle, and w...
God save me ere I have any babies. They are grabby, clingy creatures who steal your figure and always want a ribbon or a wooden sword. And who sometimes make you die bearing them.
Charming. We're going to be murdered in our beds.
Even better. We're going to be murdered in our beds by infidels.
