They ate with the ferocious and unburdened merriment of men who knew that tomorrow's hunger might not be so easily sated. Sitting together as brothers under a roof they would soon depart to defend, the heavy oak table groaned under the weight of their last shared peace.
Alpheo watched them from the head of the table, a flicker of genuine warmth softening his tired features. Asag was systematically drowning a crust of thick bread in a bowl of lentil soup, his perennial favorite, savoring every spoonful as it was the first time he tasted it. Rykio, true to form, seemed to be treating the wine as his primary course and the food as a mere distraction, while Edric and Jarza were locked in a silent, high-stakes race to see who could devour the roasted quails faster.
