In the cavernous depths of the underground kitchens and out in the freezing courtyard where the lower clans had pitched their raw, hide tents, hundreds of Omegas labored under the biting winter wind like faceless slaves. Their hands were blistered and blackened from constantly turning massive spits over open trenches stoked with crackling cedar charcoal.
Wild boars, their outer skin charred to a perfect crisp with winter apples stuffed into their jaws, glistened with rich glazes of wild mustard and honey. Dozens of stag and roe deer haunches were hoisted into the grand hall, their dark, peppery juices dripping heavily onto heaps of thick winter radishes and chopped leeks.
Massive iron cauldrons bubbled and frothed with thick barley beer and mutton, sending up dense, heavy plumes of steam that clung to the freezing stone arches where the ancient banners of Alberta hung, stiff and faded.
