"Aye, he's up to his neck in King's business." Isn't he always? Hell, he's probably gained himself another hundred acres of land since the two of them set out. William shrugs.

They're starting to pass other people now: a wood-cutter, an old woman with geese. And now they're among buildings of increasing substance. There's a handsome church, fairly new.

And, eventually, an inn. It's not exactly bustling, but there's a man in the yard to take their horses.

...and to scold William for Parsnip's lameness.

Dammit.