Free Knight's Blood by Julianne Lee

in her pain, the prospect of killing him anyway was oh, so tempting.
     
    As the burning faded to become tolerable, she climbed to her knees, then to her feet. Hard to tell where the sun was. By her memory of the knoll, she knew the river was beyond the stand of trees in front of her. The town would be just south of her. She began walking. The clothing chafed against her skin, and each step brought new pain.
     
    Soon she came upon a cluster of buildings, along a dirt track pitted with deep hoofprints left from the last heavy rain. Not many wheeled conveyances came through here, and Lindsay’s heart stilled with fear she might have gone back too many centuries. Torches and candles were being lit here and there in the village. She thought Scone would have been bigger than this.
     
    One building was lit up more brightly than the others, and before it stood several mounts held by two squires chatting with each other in low voices. She guessed the place was a public house of some sort, the operative word being “house,” since it was apparently someone’s abode made available for travelers and locals to refresh themselves with food and drink. She made her way toward it, nodded perfunctory greeting to the bored squires, and took a deep breath to ready herself for the bluff. From experience she knew that in being convincing as a man the best defense was a good offense. Timidity of any sort would get her nothing but picked on, particularly in a time when even a modern man complete with penis and Y chromosome would be thought a shy coward of the worst sort.
     
    Except Alex. Alex had impressed them from the very start. She missed him horribly. Her heart ached at what he would believe of her if she were unsuccessful, and she resolved that she would bring him Nemed’s head, or die in the attempt.
     
    Lindsay ducked through the door to the public house and went inside to learn what she could.
     
    A large hearth at one end lit the room with a bright, merry fire, and near it stood a counter of sorts. Unattended, it was little more than a high, narrow table of rough wood. Under it was a shelf that bore a single jug and some wooden cups. The room was small enough the one round table surrounded with chairs filled half of it. Most of the chairs were taken by knights, more than likely the men whose horses and squires awaited outside. A single doorway containing no door led to a back room, from which low voices of a woman and children emanated. The building was a single story, and Lindsay guessed the two rooms were all there was to the place: the public room, and the back room for the merchant and his family. Maybe there was an outbuilding of some sort, for storage.
     
    The men lounging around the table were plainly knights by their swords, as she would also be identified as a knight by hers. One squire stood off to the side, alert to his master’s bidding but taking glances at Lindsay the newcomer. The knights sitting casually in their chairs all stared at her, their talk having been suspended on her entrance.
     
    By their chain mail, and their lack of plate armor besides, she saw she had indeed come at least as far back as she wished. By the style of their tunics and shoes, she was relieved to note she’d probably come no farther back than that. The appearance of these men was as she would expect for the span of years she had aimed for, and that brought a measure of relief. Her confidence rose, and she made certain it showed in her demeanor. She coughed to clear her throat and relax her vocal chords so her voice could go as low as possible without straining or softening. She would never sound like anything but a teenage boy, and every bit of pitch advantage helped. She said to them, “Is this a place for a thirsty man to find refreshment?”
     
    One of the knights nodded toward the counter, and said with a voice of authority that suggested he was in charge of the group, “There. You’ll find a jug and a cuach . Leave a penny