‘The best of the horses are gone. I saw that at a glance when I came back. In ten years, I might breed stock up again to the quality of what we had. But I doubt it.’ He poured again. ‘There’s my life’s work gone, Fitz. A man likes to think he’ll leave his touch on the world somewhere. The horses I had brought together here, the blood-lines I was establishing — gone now, scattered throughout the Six Duchies. Oh, not that they won’t improve anything they’re bred to.
