“The crag upon which all this was built plummeted sheer to the sea on the Governor’s side, and on the other descended towards town and river in a series of precipitous humps and steep channels.The view from the keep was dramatic. Provided you were unbruised and unbound and fully in your right senses, you could survey the entire sweep of the dark, sandy bay with its crowded jetties, and the civilian town lying inland, and the low ranges of hills, with strange schisty outcrops further off. Between... houses and hills lay a broad, fertile expanse, currently covered with slush, but yielding in summer wheat and grapes and grazing aplenty. A paradise in summer, was the Crimea — and even in winter, in a normal year.To Nicholas de Fleury, who was not having a normal year, the view was not visible, although he knew that it was there: that if he stood in the free air on the battlements he would see the whole garrison town laid out sloping before him, with its barracks and workshops and market, its churches and mosque, its cisterns and storehouses and armoury, and the circuit of its great striding walls with their massive towers, one for each Governor whose pleasure and duty it was, in the year of his office, to build one.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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