Jenny: Mystery

The Guttersnipe's refrained from pointing out that her brushes with Scotti had never been pleasant. With a shiver that she managed to hide by giving the side of her skirt a brush, she thought of the gnarled silver scar that ran ragged down her Lord Ambrosius's thigh. But when the thin little slave-girl gave her a title, she laughed gaily. "I like that," she said. "Between you and me. So, you're from Ibernia? I know someone who has been there. You'll meet her yourself eventually, I shouldn't wonder. But I'd not cross her." Unconsciously she moved along with the swing of the pony beside her. "Vortigern may have been king, but she lords it over him. But she has been to Ibernia. I am - well." She blew out through her nose in a sort of laugh and looked sidewise at the girl. "You might not believe that."