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Bradamante awoke sometime during the night. Her belly grumbled for food.
She sat up on the bed of air and stared around her in the darkened hut.
Orange and golden coals sizzled in the fire pit next to the fountain.
There was no sign of Rogero.
She felt better than she had all day.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt something drop to the ground. She felt around for it on the dirt. Her fingers closed around a stone.
She tossed it aside and strode barefoot to the rear of the hut, hoping to find something to eat.
The iron pot was still there, sitting on the floor. Inside it was full of white mash.
Bradamante didn’t bother reheating it. She sat on the dirt floor beside the pot and scooped handfuls of cold mash into her mouth. She could taste the spices from the bro
