Cry for the Wolf, Chapter 6. by Richard Walker

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Chapter 6.

To my well beloved Son, Coris Danse, be this delivered in haste.

Son, I greet ye well, and let ye weet, that for as much as yer sister Pelewy alloweth me weet that ye desire faithfully me blessing; that blessing that I prayed yer grandma to give ye the last day that ever she spake, and the blessing of all the spirits serving the Goddess in her heavens, and even Her own, and mine mote come to ye all days and times; and think verily none other but that ye have it, and shall have it, on condition that I find ye kind and willing to the weal of the souls of yer blood kin and all dwarf kin long sleeping in the halls of fair Dum Kheled.
The letter ye sent to yer sister was a miracle come true after so long without word of ye. The joy I had of it was so great that it pained mine heart unto tears. Pelewy was in herself greatly moved to forgive much of what she perceives as the matter which between ye lies. To see ye home again would be a marvel, plain and true. We will look for ye as ye instructed. Yer father was and is well-pleased with the arrangements made for the metal shipment from the Meiderhofmen, and all is in hand, e'en as I pen this letter.
By me counsel, now, ye should dispose yerself as much as ye may to have less to do in the world. There is place and work enough and to spare for ye in the business of the clan and family here at home in Fallon. As yer Father often says, "In little business Iieth much rest." This world is but a thoroughfare, and one full of pain and woe at that; and when we depart therefrom, right naught bear with us, but our good deeds and ill, and there be no dwarf walking this earth knows how soon the Goddess will clepe her, and therefore it is good for every creature to be ready. Whom the Goddess visiteth, her She loveth.
And as for yer brethren, I weet well they will certainly labor with all that within them Iieth for ye against yer return. Be aware that with the great troubles over the winter with the wolves the king has brought back the old bounty on wolf-hides. Do be careful of the beasts in yer travels, my son, and mayhap ye may reap some hides to redeem on yer return. The Goddess have you in Her blessed keeping, body and soul.

Written at Fallond the twenty-seventh day of February in this ten thousandth, two-hundredth seventy-second year since the Great Deluge.
By yer Mother, Dorwinia Danse, Clan Kannith

The timing of Coris and Mallos' arrival in Fallon was impeccable, coinciding as it did with the worst of the crowds descending on the town for the fête. According to the prevailing gossip, the royal coach and train had been spotted in the country north of Bridgeport, so it would be a few days only before they arrived, a handful of days at most. The two waded through the western gates and found themselves pitched and tossed about amid a heaving, swirling throng that shared more in common with the tides of ocean than any collection of humanity. Though all the shops were closed and their owners occupying stalls on the fairgrounds, the streets were packed with other last minute arrivals, locals trying their best to go on about their business, and loiterers awaiting the arrival of the royal family.

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