Manawyth looked at the young ostler gravely. The youth was his own height already; no surprise, for the Horse-lords grew straight and tall on the plentiful grain they farmed. His courtesy surprised the Dunlander; aye, there was something wary in his look, but nothing of loathing. Truly, time had past since the war. Who had it claimed for this boy? A father or uncle, perhaps, or an older cousin...too young for a brother...
"I offer thanks," he said stiffly. "I render to you the horse." Taking the worn leather bridle, he placed it in the stable-lad's hand. "Here is for the pains of you." A few copper coins from Dunland; he hoped they would be able to be accepted and spent in this land.
"I go to seek the...Eorl," Manawyth concluded, his tongue struggling with the peculiar syllable. "Good...meet."
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