She stretched her arms out from the shoulder and executed a very stiff and very sloppy pirouette. ‘Ee-ee, stiff!’
‘Oi.’ The cart driver turned and nodded at their luggage
‘G-g-g-good evening,’ the man said. He nodded courteously. ‘What is your n-n-n-n-name?’
‘My stable –’
The Raven blinked at him and wondered at his negatives. She almost wanted to use the Sense.
The landlord actually jumped. ‘You never said it talked!’
Can’t you stay with it now?’ Morley asked, chewing bread and mutton together in his mouth.
‘’mnot. I’ve been good. I have been good, haven’t I, Master?’
The landlord had come out to our cart per Quennel’s
He tied the Raven’s lead to the bed rail and then went out the door.
Quennel came back about half an hour later, bearing cakes and ale.‘Can’t you stay with it now?’ Morley asked, chewing bread and mutton together in his mouth.
Morley shoved the leather trunk into the Raven’s arms and, taking the large crate in one hand and her lead in the other, knocked on the door.
‘’mnot. I’ve been good. I have been good, haven’t I, Master?’ ‘Yes, you’ve been good.’
The landlord saw. He shrugged. ‘Just don’t make no trouble, and I won’t say nothing.’The Raven blinked at him and wondered at his negatives.
I have been good, haven’t I, Master?
‘I’m not his –’ Morley began indignantly, but Pace had already gone back into the room. They could see a fire burning and a flask and glasses set out on a table beside some very comfortable looking chair
The landlord actually jumped.
The landlord frowned, said curtly, ‘Well, mind you keep it under control,’ and left,
She picked up the newspaper that Quennel had brought up along with the food and opened it.......so she turned to the last page of the newspaper and read the Bill of Mortality for the last week instead.
The only difference was that they arrived at Selseaton, instead of another inn, at the end of it.
She leaned over the edge of the cart and stared down.
A few shop windows were lit from within by glowing candles, showing the black silhouette of a watchmaker or printer or bookbinder working late, bent over a desk with a jeweller’s glass in their eye.
‘Ah, Mister Quennel, Mister Quennel, Mister Quennel…’
‘Yes.’ Quennel shifted under Pace’s hand, uncomfortable, yet wishing to appear polite. ‘How many do you own?’
The Raven could feel their eyes, looking, looking, looking. Looking as Morley unclipped her lead and gave her a little push forward. Looking as he shut the door and left. Looking as she looked back at them.
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