The tunic falls to mid-thigh on me, and I huddle in it, laying out my wet stay and breeches in some semblance of a hope they might dry. I crawl back out and join the rest of the men, Tryus is passing around foodstuffs, the Woodsman is digging a pit in the circle of our tent-shelter and instructing a small opening be made in the canvas above us. He lines the pit with stone and dry timber from under the trees.
“The smoke-” I stammer.
“Watch my Queen, and learn.” The Woodsman winks as he builds a small square formation out of the tinder. The fire he and the other build is small, well contained, hardly any smoke, but that's not the point.
“You're heating the stones!” I murmur in amazement and he winks at me. They carefully tend the fire, turning the stones until it is near dead, then they s
