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We had soon settled on the hearthstones, the fire warm on our faces.

For the next century or so, the rubble provided doorsteps and hearthstone for the local populace and mortar for the building trade, while the Turkish garrison used the carved figures for target practice.

“You are better, then. You may sit you down in my chair on the hearthstone, if you will.”

Rapidly Ranofer explained the hearthstone mold, a stone ground flat, with a bar-shaped depression in the center and little grooves scraped from it to let the air out.

Only he had left in wizardly fashion a message of silver-scrawled runes on the hearthstone, that faded even as Ogion read them: “Master, I go hunting.”