Dru stared at the blaze of twoscore bonfires leaping in the dark. It was just an hour or so until sunrise, she judged by the stars, but down below they were still stoking their fires. A reminder to her that her enemies were warm and well fed, and she and her people were not. She looked over her shoulder and saw the weak glow of the coals of a banked fire. She looked down again and imagined what her enemies must have waiting for breakfast. Maybe haunches of venison or wild boar, or partridges simmering in herb-flavored butter. She could almost smell the searing meat and dripping fat.
Once she made her mouth water sufficiently, she popped her last morsel of hard bread into her mouth. She worked the bread around in her saliva for a while, hoping to soften it enough to avoid breaking a tooth
