Exclusive Extract from Maiden by Georgia Leighton
Read the opening chapters from Maiden, by Georgia Leighton.
PROLOGUE
THE TALE OF PRINCESS TIANNIE
She climbed through the fine mist that hung in the air, veiling the mountainside in a sheet of soft silver. Breath heaved from her chest, rising like puffs of smoke, while dawn light stretched pale fingers over the surrounding mountains, lacing between the stacks and valleys, its amber warmth slowly spreading. Her shoes fumbled and slid on the soft, pebbly ground, and her broken body burned with pain. She did not think that she could go on, but she knew that she must. The lives of her people depended on it.
Behind her, she could hear faint echoes of the battle still raging lower down the mountain: clashing swords, smashing shields and screams of torture. Though she had fled the front line, the stench of blood, flesh and death lingered, clogging her nose and choking her throat, her ears still ringing with wails of agony.
Her people had been fighting this foreign enemy for almost twenty days. It was said that another settlement in the south had simply folded at the sight of the sprawling army that had suddenly appeared in these lands, their Leader bending the knee before even one sword had been drawn. But the Mountain folk had vowed that they would not give in so easily. They had fought, though it had cost them dearly. And as each day passed and each battle was lost, they had been driven further up the mountains, retreating high into the stony peaks.
Tiannie snatched at rocks as she climbed, propelling herself onwards. Above her, golden light poured into the valleys and ridges below. She had been fighting all night alongside her people, watching their men and women fall, writhing bodies spurting blood and guts into the mud-churned soil. Fewer than one hundred of the Mountain folk warriors remained and their numbers were quickly dwindling. This enemy would triumph, despite their efforts, and when it did, the rest of their people would not be safe. The enemy would find the remaining Mountain folk hiding in the forests – those who were too old, too young or unable to fight – and they would slaughter them.
Five days ago, they had lost their Leader. She had been just six paces from him when it happened, and she had seen the swinging blow that decapitated her father. She had screamed and launched herself upon his murderer, driving a spear through the soldier’s chest. But it could not change what had already been done. Her father’s head had rolled away and, before she could retrieve his corpse, the horns had sounded, calling the Mountain folk to retreat into the trees once more. With his death, the burden of command had fallen to her, the eldest child. Now she was their Leader and she had to do something to save her people.