His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the scenery outside the carriage.
In the distance, patches of neatly trimmed orchards dotted the hillside. Beside a clear stream flowing down from the mountain, a waterwheel was set up, clearly meant to power some kind of machinery.
Farther on, in a more open, flat area, he could see enclosed pens built with wooden fences, from which the faint cries of livestock could be heard.
The carriage continued forward, traveling along the stone-paved road through the quiet and prosperous village.
The road gradually widened, and buildings that were clearly shops or workshops began to appear on both sides, their wooden signs swaying gently in the breeze.
They saw a blacksmith's shop with its doors wide open, the forge glowing red-hot. The rhythmic sound of hammering rang out—CLANG, CLANG, CLANG.
From the open storefront of another, came the regular CLICK-CLACK of a loom, and they could faintly see piles of brightly colored fabrics inside.
