Chapter 20
Provisions
Evra was late for the break of the morning fast. The Frosts gathered at sunrise, as they’d done every day. None raised their head or eyes in greeting, nor even curiosity at his tardiness. Thorn’s head hung over his porridge as he took quick swings at the contents. His wife had pushed her bowl to the side and gazed off toward the wall of windows and the storm still raging. The others ate in silence.
“Get to it, Evra,” Oswin gruffed. “Eat. The gruel will be hard enough to build a wall with soon, and there’s nothing to be done about that.”
“Nothing to be done,” Evra repeated as the past night washed over him in startling clarity. But as the events replayed in his mind, he felt more like an observer, watching a play in the town square. The Tragic Ballad of Evra and Rh
