It was past noon, and a drove of
sheep lay waiting.
H’s passage was sore. He could do
without more for now.
The river was quiet, and
the air, empty.
H strained his ears. Something was
in the twilight.
a nervous cry. “I never believed
in the beheadings.”
H gave him a deliberate glance and
tried to laugh.
“They’ll be out seeking me,” Maug said.
“What are you going on about?” H said.
Maug answered, “Don’t
laugh at me.”
To be continued…