jhetley

From POWERS, under construction...

"Now get lost. You're keeping me from my beer."
"Doesn't your Prophet forbid alcohol?"
She stilled, face settling into a glare that could have frozen the bay. "Little man, I once killed a Badakh because he thought he should beat me for going unveiled. He was much larger than you. I killed him with my knife, slowly, starting with his manhood. Then his brothers came for his blood, and we killed them. Then their cousins came, and _their_ cousins. We had better rifles, from the ferenghi, but this grew tiresome, and the ammunition cost much. So we left our mountains, and came here. Do you wish to start such a thing?"
She'd slipped into the lilt I remembered from the Bengal plains to the Pamirs, English as a second language. The New Amsterdam accent had vanished, leaving me with more questions than answers. I gulped and backed away from her.