A row of cast-iron cauldrons simmered over crackling firewood, and the thin, savory aroma of wheat porridge drifted through the frigid air.
The slaves formed a long, shuffling queue, each clutching a rough wooden bowl as they waited for their portion.
Gratitude shone in their eyes. For days, they had been gnawed by a hunger so deep that even a handful of scraps would have been fought over. To have hot porridge to drink was an unimaginable
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