The Caballero hauled his bags from his dusty horse, if one can call such a skeletal mammal a horse, and set up a camp a few feet above the base of a valley. Three stakes he hammered, securing an old sailcloth into the ground. He sighed, remembering when he had seen unfurled sails years ago as a faithful comrade beside him stood. He wrapped himself up in an old coverlet and tried to sleep. But after fifteen minutes of discomfort he gave in to his body’s need for physical comfort and placed a small mat on the ground. It was a small defeat, but a defeat nonetheless.
He slept a lean sleep. And the morning beckoned him to the top of the hill where a small wooden temple looked out over all Leipzia.