.

THE SHAPES IN THE MIST.
Mutely we faced each other, white and wan in the ghostly light.
The valley was very still; as silent as though sound had been withdrawn from it.

The shimmering radiance suffusing it had thickened perceptibly; hovered over the valley floor faintly sparkling mists; hid it.
Like a shroud was that silence.

Beneath it my mind struggled, its unease, its forebodings growing ever stronger.

Silently we repacked the saddlebags; girthed the pony; silently we waited for Norhala's return.
Idly I had noted that the place on which we stood must be raised above the level of the vale.