I am old, and they hesitate to kill an old man.

I am wise in the desert ways, not rash.

And if they do kill me, then it is only an old man's body bloating in the sun.
"Besides, I am cunning and can give wise answers, whereas those sons of mine might take offense at an insult, or recognize a blood enemy at the wrong moment.

Nay, it is I who must take that letter." Grim clapped him on the back.
"Good, my father; you shall go.

Take one son with you to look after your comforts." He turned that suggestion over in his mind for several minutes, but shook his head finally.
"I go alone.