
"Brother Thomasin,
I writ ye quick, for I found marvels here no man shuld pass by. In them black woods I seen a queer plant, thorn’d and twisted, bleedin sap like gold, warm as flesh. When I broke a branch the juice run on me hand, and I swear I heard a voice, soft like a chapel song, then another, low and thick, like a belly growlin afore a feast.
An there be stones too, black and carved with holy words, glowin yet like altar candles. I took three, for priests will pay good coin, even if they call ‘em cursed. Fools! They hum like church bells, and I feel strong as a knight bearin ‘em.
Since then I dream of tables groanin with meat and pies, fish fat as hogs, bread white as snow. I see us both sittin there, eatin till we near burst, laughin like lords. By Oroael’s bones, brother, I woke with my mouth waterin.
I tell ye true, Thomasin, this land is rich. I’ll go deeper yet, to the pit where smoke rises. There be more wonders hid below, gold enough for us both, food enough for all our kin. When I bring it back, none shall hunger in Kerys again. Pray for me if ye like, but I think the Divine hand guides me now.
Yr brother, Alain"