The rain had ended, and the rising sun was lifting the dew from the cold earth, filling the morning with a gentle fog. God had given me one more blessing: They would not see me coming; they would only see a shape, a shadow in the mist.
I was limping as I walked along the road. The leg was burning hot and didn’t want to bend. On! I commanded myself. While the dew still hangs low upon the earth. On!
Two forms, two soldiers, stood beside the gate of my old home, stood still and quiet within the swirling mist.
Tale Told 