The smell of wet metal greeted Alienor when she awakened, closely followed by the scent of soaked leather and wet wool. Momentarily disoriented by an incessant motion that did no favors for her stomach, she opened her eyes, only to be confronted by a solid wall of red wool. Her raised hood admitted little light and hid the surroundings from view. Judging by the rows of tight circles impressed against her cheek, the red wool covered chain mail, both of which were stretched over her husband’s broad chest. When she stirred, his arm tightened around her waist, though the horse did not slow its pace.
“’Tis only dawn,” Dagobert murmured, and she felt his chin against her hooded head as he bent down to speak to her. Alienor became aware of the rain drumming on her shoulders, and realized that sh
