Below, in the Greek camp, a sentry heard the humming. He crossed himself to gods he no longer believed in.
“Tomorrow,” Spenta said, “they will call us ghosts. But ghosts do not bleed.” esse kamboja
And esse Kamboja became a verb again: to ride, to vanish, to rise from the valley floor with a spear in each hand and the wind at your back. Below, in the Greek camp, a sentry heard the humming