‘Boy?’ he asked cautiously when I was near. I managed a nod and a smile. The answering smile that broke forth on his face humbled me. He dropped his staff to hug me, and then pressed his cheek to mine as if I were a child. ‘Oh, Fitz, Fitz, my boy,’ he said in a voice full of relief. ‘I thought we had lost you. I thought we’d done something worse than let you die.’ His old arms were tight and strong about me. I was kind to the old man. I did not tell him that they had.
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