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... rotting vegetation. For as long as anyone in the valley could remember, this two-mile stretch of sunken geography had been a graveyard for commerce. The King’s Highway technically ran through it, but the reality was a braided network of treacherous, semi-liquid paths that shifted with every heavy rain.

Half-submerged wagon frames protruded from the black muck like the ribs of starved animals. Broken axles, shattered yokes, and lengths of frayed hemp rope littered the reeds. A half-mile a ...

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