Jenny: Horses

The Guttersnipe squinted into the sun. "We have time for a ride," she admitted. Gwenhywfar would be seeing to Master Lucius' needs, so that while they nagged at the back of her mind, she knew she could let them go. If only he were not so determined to bring Pliny, she thought with exasperation.

Some of the saddles were left slung over the side of the pen. Moving to one, she cupped it in her arm and dragged it off, picking out the bronze-and-black colt to ride. As she gestured for Domitia to do the same and single out the little mealy red mare the slave-girl had been riding, she said, "It isn't that hard to stay astride, truly. Once you have got the feel of the horse, it's simple. It's an animal - it's alive. It will tell you what it will do, if only you keep your eyes open in your head to look for the signs. And hitch up your skirt," she threw over her shoulder. "You can't bend at the hips if you keep jerking your skirt down around your shins."

She did so herself, belting up her fawn-brown dress so that her knees showed, brown and faintly scuffed, and taking a lock of the colt's mane in her left hand, sprang up and threw her leg over the saddle. The colt shivered and sidled, much enthused; she took up the reins and moved him up beside the mealy red mare to hold her head while Domitia mounted.