CHAPTER TWELVE
Erec rode from the rising of the first sun to the time the second crossed the sky when the country path widened, gradually became finer and smoother, the rough holes less frequent. Its jagged rocks were replaced by fine pebbles, then these replaced by smooth, white shells, and Erec knew he was, finally, approaching a city. He started to see people on foot, carrying goods and wares, sheltering their heads with wide hats from the summer heat. The road become more and more populated, people moving in both directions on this glorious summer day, some leading oxen or riding on carts. Judging from the number of days he had ridden, Erec assumed he was nearing Savaria, the stronghold of the South. It was a city famed for its fine women, its strong wine, and its magnificent horses,
