Old Letter

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Mother!

Something horrible is happening. The knyaz is dead. I don’t know who killed him, and I have only heard rumours too preposterous to be true. But death is coming for us, too. For all of us.

We must flee before it is too late. Pack as many small valuable things as you can – we will need to sell them. Then, dress plainly, get on a horse, and leave the mansion at once. I will meet you near the Northern Cleft bridge and we will travel together. I don’t know where yet, but somewhere far away.

As for Father – as much as it pains me to write it – you must leave him. I am sorry, but with him, in his current state, you will not be able to make it in time.

Save yourself, please.
Damyan