"Well, you’d kneel down here, put your head here and it comes off into the little well and eventually into a basket if they set one up," recalled Johnny. "That’s how I saw it done at Helgen, anyway."
"They didn’t give Roggvir a basket, did they?" Jenassa was recalling something too, something she could describe only as a head on the loose.
Johnny leaned on the mop handle and sighed. He wasn’t quite staring off into space, perhaps only as far as the enormous windmill that characterized the Solitude skyline. “They’re choppin’ off a lot of heads these days,” he mused. “Coffers for coffins. They don’t have the money for baskets anymore, I guess.”
"They can’t afford a damned basket?"
"I don’t know. Maybe Elisif’s using them for her peonies."