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Bradamante slept fitfully in anticipation of the day.
She would need to travel as quickly and efficiently as she could before the next storm could catch her.
The sky was thick with clouds that were white for now, but could turn gray and snow-laden at any time.
She needed to eat, and to eat as much as possible. She couldn’t be certain where or when she might find her next meal.
She stirred up the coals of the fire pit inside the stone hut and added more wood to feed the flames. She set the iron pot over it and rewarmed the meager remnants of the salty mash inside.
It wasn’t enough. Not for a long day of travel through snow and over mountains.
Bradamante brought the water knife with her and went down to the stream to search for fish.
Manat had taught Bradamante the skill when she
