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The maggiordomo was talking with the stable slaves when I arrived. The cart was ready, and there was even a blanket. Apparently they were smart enough to include basic necessities without being told. Or perhaps the maggiordomo had made them.
I strode past the maggiordomo, and took the reins from the slave holding them. I mounted the cart, sat, and slapped the horse; it began to move. The maggiordomo stepped in front. “Stay,” he said, looking at my horse. The horse promptly stopped. I flicked it but it didn’t move.