Cyfric,
I hope this letter finds you well. I apologise for being so sparse with my missives, but all that travelling has been quite the strain! Finally, though, I've managed to track our errant sire to an odd little town in the middle of nowhere. We should have guessed, really, that he'd run as far as his legs could carry him and then some more for good measure. Unfortunately, I've not yet been able to meet up with him.
This is his last known location, but it seems some things have gone terribly wrong. Apparantly the old man managed to get himself hired by some well-to-do types and, although no one here has managed to tell me precisely what he did for these people, I'd imagine we're both able to hazard a guess.
One way or another, the man he worked for died in suspicious circumstances and sometime later the mans wife also met her end. Naturally, our dearly beloved dad decided to run for the hills around that time, so the suspicion has fallen on him. There's flyers and bounties all over the place! Well, maybe not all over the place exactly, but certainly in enough places to get noticed. It wouldn't be so bad, only they offer a handsome reward for his head - notably unattached to his body.
I've been looking into it myself but, for all that he's a wanted man, not one person can provide me with a scrap of evidence to prove that he comitted these murders. All they can say is that he ran away so he must have done it! Hah! I keep telling them that if I eat a loaf, it doesn't mean I robbed the bakery, but they won't listen! They're determined that he's to blame and refuse to look in any other direction because this one is the easiest.
Even the town guard are useless! I approached their captain, or whatever he wants to call himself, to ask him about it all. He claims that he knows nothing of these bounties, but that he could possibly help me if I "grease his palm." Quite aside from the fact that I spent the last of my coins to get here, I will certainly not bribe a man to do what he gets paid for anyway! No honour, the men of this town; no wonder father came here.
It's hard going, I must admit. Seaver, a lovely man, has generously given me a room at his house. Unfortunately, he's also the one in the fore when it comes to killing father, so we're having a few problems in that respect. Plus, I've made one or two other "friends" who are intent on trying to convince me that father is a murderer simply because some little scullery maid got some bruises, or something equally inane. Either they're all blind and too stupid to realise that a heiffer and a stallion won't breed a mountain pony, or they know something that they're not telling and are simply seeking father's head for their own petty grudges. It's enough to drive me mad, but I have to keep smiling!
Give my love to the others please, dear brother, and take good care of yourself. It looks like I'll be in this hoof-splitting town for a goodly while, so do write back if you get a chance!
Culfere.
