Thorn rapped the baton on his leg. Maybe there was something he could do about that, he thought. Then, absentmindedly, he rapped a little tougher than he’d intended. “Ow!” he muttered, making a intellectual note no longer to do that again. He glanced up and noticed that a number of of the Herons, now tucking into hot bread and bacon, were grinning at him. He scowled and the grins disappeared. But he knew those grins were nevertheless there, beneath the surface, and he was happy of the fact. He didn’t want them cowed and resentful. He wished to construct their spirits and assist them regain the esprit de corps they had misplaced in the course of the long, boring days in camp. He beckoned Edvin over. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked. Edvin shook his head. “I’ve been busy serving the meals

