Fantasy
The Tongue That Makes the Mountain Sing
They leave Fort Hameera in the dusty light of dawn, riding their donkeys through the lower western gate. Miles sees native Bagha sentries along the scoured sandstone walls, their turbans black lumps against the rising sun, and fights the urge to duck his head. General Williams did not forbid him this expedition, only strongly urge against it. Certainly that might be because he thought Miles was voicing a whim rather than stating intent. Regardless, the general is not here now. As a Scribe, Miles exists outside the normal chain of military command, but he is sure of this much: No lowly sepoy has the authority to bar his path.







