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First book in the French Frontier series
…Outside the prison the bright spring sun blinded Jazelle.
She stumbled forward behind ten others prisoners, a bayonet pricking her
back. She felt blood warm against her skin. Feet stumbled behind her.
The street was just wide enough for people to stand three or four deep,
pressed against buildings. Jeering men and women waved red, white and
blue cockades. Shouting, laughing, calling names, hurling curses. The
prisoners shuffled down the steps onto the cobbles.
Jazelle looked ahead. The guillotine blocked
the end of the street, reaching to heaven, its iron frame black as hell,
sunlight sparkling off the knife. Except at the blade end.
Her throat constricted. She gasped for
breath, pressed a fist against her chest, forced a breath… |
