I remember being on horseback, though I can’t remember where.
The smell of the horses was overpoweringly strong. The ground below us was soft and thumped very gently below the hooves of the horse as it walked at a slow, steady pace. The air was cold, gray, still, silent, and severe.
My eyes were cast down for the most part, my attention on the hooves of a horse nearby, and perhaps a flicker of black and yellow cloth on that other horse. But I don’t think this was Otto II, because this was not in Germany that I know of. There were no trees of any kind, it was just a stark, muddy landscape of rather steep hills so far as I can tell. This may have been in Northern England and it reminded me a bit of the Peak District, though I can’t really place it.