The Last Priestess by Elizabeth Baxter EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Elizabeth Baxter
- Language: English
- Genre: Dragons & Mythical Creatures Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Maegwin de Romily woke with a headache on the morning of her execution.
As she roused from frightening dreams she became aware of smells first:
damp stone, rotting straw, an undercurrent of urine. Next came sounds: the
slow drip of water, the skitter of rats, the hushed voices of the other prisoners.
Then finally, sight. Dawn sunlight fell through the barred window so brightly
it brought tears to her eyes and made her head pound like a drum, beating out
the rhythm of her heart.
She levered herself into a sitting position and clasped her head as pain
rampaged through her brain. Last night, after she had smashed her knee into
his groin, the guard had punched her so hard she was surprised to find all her
teeth still in place. But at least he’d left her alone after that. A headache and
swollen jaw were a small price to avoid rape.
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cold, damp stone of
the cell floor, hoping for some relief.
“Sho-La, my mistress,” she whispered. “Give me the strength to meet my
death with honor. I am lost in the dark. Guide me.” The words echoed off the
walls and faded into silence. There was no answer.
Maegwin glanced at the window. Outside, in the town of Mallyn, life
went on as normal. The townspeople would be getting dressed, emptying
chamber pots, cooking breakfast and doing the simple things people did
every morning. In a few hours Maegwin would be led to the gallows and
hanged and nobody in Mallyn would care.
Maegwin shook her head, pushing the somber thoughts away. Instead, she
brought to mind the morning prayers she’d been taught in the temple of ShoLa.
Blessed Mother, guide me.
Blessed Mother, heal me.
Blessed Mother, teach me.
Blessed Mother, I am yours.
“Pssst! Maegwin? You awake?”
She crawled to the door and slumped against the bars. “Good morning,
Morran.”
A bearded face appeared at the cell bars opposite. Deep lines framed eyes
filled with worry. “Ah, lassie, you had me frightened last night. It would have
been easier to let him have what he wanted. I thought he was going to kill
you.”
Maegwin smiled wryly. “Would it have mattered, Morran?”
The old man’s face became stern. “Now, don’t go talking like that. We
aren’t beaten yet! Something will turn up, you’ll see. The Songmaker will
save us.”
Maegwin sighed. She was tired of hearing him prattle on about this
Songmaker of his. “How many times, old man? I’m not one of you.”
“Well mayhap you should be. Where has loyalty to the king got you, eh?
He’s going to hang you whether you be a rebel or no.”
Maegwin didn’t reply. He wouldn’t listen. For Morran there were two
choices: you were either loyal to the king or loyal to the rebels. But Maegwin
had never sworn loyalty to either and yet she’d been dragged into the conflict
anyway.
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