"I know who you are." The low, graveling voice muttered from the shadows. "And I know what you want." Bernard stepped further into the dimly lit cottage. He squinted, searching for a body to match the voice. A woman glided towards him, eyes intoxicatingly bright. Her white hair was scraggly and unkempt, and her dress was torn and stained with innumerable crusted potions, herbals, and other filth.
"Lady Morgana. I would not come if it were not most urgent, I assure you."
"This is urgent? Hmm, I thought this was merely a fearful father's cowardice getting the better of him." The woman glowered, laughing softly. "But your remedy comes at a high price."
Bernard frowned, but nodded. "I know this, m'lady. I am prepared to make any sacrifice necessary to keep her safe-"
"Oh no, I don't expect much from you. It's her I want." She paused, chuckling as the man's face changed from pleading to puzzled. "If you want her safe- she has to pay the price for leaving. She must choose whether to accept your gift- or to accept a far less... amiable fate." Morgana grinned, staring down at the small man as he fell to his knees in despair.
"Please, my lady. Anything to keep her with me." Morgana only smiled wider. She crouched down to the floor, brushing her ancient palms against the man's tired face.
"As you wish, Lord Ascolat."
YOU ARE READING
The Weaver
FantasyElayne is cursed. She is doomed to die a horrible death if she ever leaves her father's home- and something about that is just too tempting for a curious young maiden.
