Extract from a letter written in a flowing, archaic hand ...
'... this must be a jumble of letters for thee, for I am finally upon the road. A collection of charming vignettes, small pictures of what is ocurring here. Firstly, I swear thee to secrecy. Yea... thou must bear it for my sake! I will explain all to him when I return, but until then, thy sweet lips must be sealed - for he will be wroth, and it were better his anger came at me, rather than thine own dear self.
I have taken up the sword! After so long laid aside ... bidden thrice by Saerdir, one, I think, who may have the right to ask it of me. My dear, what joy, what delight I have in this - to be released, finally from my vow. Rejoice with me, even as thou knowest what pain this will bring.
I ride north amongst a bright host. Diminished yes, from what has been before, but I challenge any true heart not to lift at the sight of such a proud company, riding out in fine order, moonlight in our shields, pennants dancing in the night-breeze and our high stepping eager horses. I come alive, yes, as thou holds in thy memory. I unfurl like a fern, frost-written upon glass. ...'
