The rhythmic clop of hooves echoed through the air as Alice guided her palfrey down the dusty driveway leading into an unfamiliar village. Her keen eyes darted from side to side, scrutinizing every shadow and movement with the practiced vigilance of a hunted woman. The weight of her arming sword at her hip offered a modicum of comfort, but her hand remained poised near its hilt, ready to draw at a moment's notice.
Cecilia, nestled securely in the custom-made cradle attached to the saddle, cooed softly, oblivious to the tension radiating from her mother. Alice's lips twitched in a brief, tender smile at the sound before her features hardened once more into a mask of wary determination.
The driveway gradually widened, revealing the first few buildings of the settlement. Thatched roofs sagged under the weight of years, while the occasional tendril of smoke curled lazily from a chimney. The air carried the mingled scents of livestock, freshly baked bread, and something less pleasant that Alice couldn't quite identify.
A few villagers paused in their daily routines to watch the newcomers, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. Alice met their gazes with a steely resolve, her posture erect and proud despite the weariness of long travel. She knew all too well that in these uncertain times, strangers could be met with either hospitality or hostility, and she was prepared for either.
As they ventured deeper into the village, Alice's mind raced with possibilities. This could be a temporary haven, a place to rest and resupply before continuing their journey. Or it could be a trap, another link in the long chain of dangers that had pursued them since their flight from Saxonland.
