“Cockadoodledoo.”

The warden turned in his quilt.

“Cockadoodledoo.”

The warden opened his eyes. “Can it be so late?”

“Cockadoodledoo.”

“Heigho. Morning already—and—what a noisy fowl.”

“Cockadoodledoo.”

“Yes, it must be morning. Time to open the gate, so that the early caravans can pass.”

“Cockadoodledoo.”

The key clicked in the lock. The heavy hinges groaned.