No french(1)

The carriage, heavy and robust, lumbered along the ancient road towards Taranto, its wooden wheels creaking in protest against the weight of its cargo. Within its sturdy wooden frame, it held a valuable bounty – an abundant harvest of grain destined for the royal warehouse of the duchy.

There, the grain would be stored, safeguarded, and eventually distributed to the people, ensuring their well-being and the stability of the land. The wheels of progress turned inexorably, as the carriage pressed on, carrying the lifeblood of the duchy towards its destination.

As the sun hung high in the azure sky, its golden rays beat down upon the landscape, casting a shimmering mirage upon the distant horizon. The fields on either side of the road swayed in the gentle breeze, a sea of golden wheat undulating like waves in the wind.