“You’ll be fine,” the groom had assured them both. “They know what to do, even if you don’t.” “You’re not a horseman, then,” Musen said as they rolled slowly down Foregate towards the Land Gates. “Me? God, no.” Pleda shifted uncomfortably on the driver’s bench. “My dad kept horses, but I never got to drive. Fuller, he was. Him and me, we used to go round the City first thing and empty all the piss-pots. Dad drove, I did all the running around. Filthy bloody job.” He looked at the boy, then added, “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” “Sorry.” Pleda shrugged. “Don’t suppose they have fullers where you come from. How do you bleach your fine cloth, then?” “We don’t.” Pleda nodded. “Figures,” he said. “Anyway, it’s a foul job, that’s all you need to know about it.” “We had horses on the farm,” Musen said. “I steered clear of them, as much as I could. Got kicked in the head when I was six. Been scared of them ever since.”
What do You think about The Two Of Swords: Part 8?
