Pakhtunkhwa, July 1863
The firing from the mujahidin had increased, joined by high-pitched shouts and the occasional scream. Jack led his Guides into the cold rushing water of the ford. He moved slowly, checking every step, holding his revolver ready, feeling very vulnerable in the open. The water was deeper than he expected, reaching to his waist in the middle before receding again.
It was a relief to step onto dry ground, even though he was closer to the enemy. The revived campfires sent flickering light across the ground, revealing groups of men milling around, some firing upwards at the mountain in the belief that the British were there, others not sure what to do. When Zaman"s mines crashed out, more of the Mujahidin started firing across the ford, with the bullets whistling past th
