A Tinn’s tale

uc had been staying up all evening.

When, at last, everyone had gone to bed and the muffled sounds of talking died, he had crept out of his warm bed to watch the fire. It was something he did quite often recently.

During the day he was too busy to think, to consider and to plot. And he liked to watch the dying fire while doing that.

They must not know his secret. He could not worry them with it; they had enough worries of their own. He had to work this out himself.

This night he must have fallen asleep, for suddenly he was startled by a crackling sound. A log in the fire had snapped and awoken him.

Luc crawled into sitting position and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. He could not permit himself to be lazy right now.

He had to think.