Chapter 2Lady Samala Wynn rode into the stables, avoiding all the potholes in the cobbled yard dexterously, after long familiarity with them.
She dismounted and led her horse into a stable, originally built to hold forty horses, but now containing only three.
In the nearest stall the roof let in the rain, so she put Mercury into the next stall, which at least was still weatherproof.
As she undid the girth and removed the saddle, an ancient groom came slowly down the passageway to say,
“Did you ’ave a good ride, my Lady?”
“Yes, thank you, Walters, but so much young grass is bad for Mercury. I think you had better give him a feed of oats this evening.”
“T’ain’t possible, my Lady, sorry, my Lady.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Turner won’t supply us no more, ‘till us ’ave paid ’is bill.”
Samala made a
