The Astrologer cursed under his breath as he followed Nile away.
How had he failed to notice that his companion—and rival in love—was such a ruthless man?
Well, if he had not been ruthless enough, he would never have dared face the stake.
Most weaker people would have changed their story or simply fled, rather than stay behind and die for their beliefs.
Fortunately, they were lucky enough to find a hunter's cabin.
They waited for two hunters, one old and one young.
The older one looked to be forty or fifty. Only after asking did they learn that the old hunter was twenty-seven. He could not even state his own age clearly. It was not until Nile asked him how many times he had seen the leaves turn yellow that, with the youth's help, he painstakingly counted up to twenty-seven.
The youth was only twelve. They were father and son, though in truth the old hunter could only count to fifteen.
The one saving grace was that he could understand what they were saying.
He was certain he had never learned this primitive language. It had to be power granted to him by the Devil.
The Devil gave me the power of darkness, and I will use it to seek the light of reason.
Nile encouraged himself this way.
The Astrologer could not understand the other man's squeaky babbling at all, and before he knew it, he had been reduced to Nile's servant and attendant.
The two hunters led them out of the mountains.
The journey took a full two days.
Without the hunters to guide them, they would certainly have gotten lost in the mountains.
At last, on the plains below the mountains, they saw a tribe...
Thanks to his advantages in language and culture, and the fact