Read Online Knight's Blood by Julianne Lee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julianne Lee
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Time travel, Scotland, Married People, Kidnapping, Children - Crimes against, Fighter pilots
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campaign to find Lindsay, and he wanted his troops to maintain their enthusiasm to find his wife. They seemed cheered to have him back, but there was an underlying concern about the mistress of the castle.
A cry went up from the bottom of the bailey, and a trumpet sounded. An approach of strangers. Every ear in the Great Hall perked to hear the call again, to determine whether it was from land or sea. When the call came from the land side, alarm struck and the knights present rose to their feet to hurry into the bailey and down the slope.
Alex also rose, but dizziness made him sit back down for a moment. Then he rose again, slowly, and followed his men out to the lower curtain. Gregor came to aid him, but he declined the offered arm and only rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder as they walked together down the winding path to the gate.
As he reached the stairway to the parapet over the portcullis, his knights prepared to sally forth and meet their visitors if they proved to be enemies. Horses milled and snorted, and men spoke excitedly of action. Alex’s squire, Colin, had his horse saddled and was holding it for him, but he gave instructions to wait. Feeling like an old man, sore of joint and out of shape, he climbed to the parapet and moved past the guard to lean against the stone battlement. He looked out over the field that lay before the castle.
A cluster of mounted men stood dead center of the pasture. They flew no banner. Not good. That suggested a wariness or subterfuge that usually equaled threat. At the very least it lent itself to misunderstanding, which was nearly as dangerous. He instructed the guard to call out a challenge, and was obeyed, but no reply came from the intruders. Instead, the one at the front reached behind him to be handed off what looked like a long pole.
A banner, perhaps. Good. This would tell Alex what he needed to know about these clowns, and then they could talk. Or not.
But as the cloth unfurled from the pole, Alex’s heart stopped. Then it began to pound with an insistence that made him nearly choke. His mouth dropped open.
The flag raised by the leader of these men was of red and white stripes, and stars on a field of blue. Flapping lazily in the breeze outside his castle in April of 1316 was the flag of the United States of America.
CHAPTER 5
Lindsay’s skin felt burned. As she regained consciousness, she knew there must be blisters all over her face and hands. She groaned, and her throat rasped in raging pain. But when she ventured to touch her fingertips gently to her forehead, there were no blisters. Her skin was smooth, though it flinched at the touch. She looked at her hands. No discoloring. Only the pain. She looked around without moving her head, for even the turning of her eyeballs was a tender thing. She lay there, drawing slow, careful breaths, hoping the pain would diminish enough for her to raise her head.
From here she could see she was still near Perth, in Scone. The knoll rose above her, but not as it had been in the twenty-first century. The door was cleared of bracken and appeared sturdy. Almost new. She’d gone back in time, and could only hope it was far enough. Drifting on the currents of fate wouldn’t cut it this time.
After a few minutes, she tried again to move and found the pain had subsided. She could raise her head without feeling as if her skin would split open, and found the places her clothing bound weren’t as excruciating as they had been. She sat up.
It was nearing dark. The weather was cool and overcast, so she guessed the month to be May. June at the latest. The year could be nearly any. Not that it mattered all that much. It was Nemed she was after, and so long as he’d deposited her where she could find him physically, she could have what she was after. Alex had once forced him to send them home; she figured she could make him give back her son. Or else she’d kill him. Just then,
A cry went up from the bottom of the bailey, and a trumpet sounded. An approach of strangers. Every ear in the Great Hall perked to hear the call again, to determine whether it was from land or sea. When the call came from the land side, alarm struck and the knights present rose to their feet to hurry into the bailey and down the slope.
Alex also rose, but dizziness made him sit back down for a moment. Then he rose again, slowly, and followed his men out to the lower curtain. Gregor came to aid him, but he declined the offered arm and only rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder as they walked together down the winding path to the gate.
As he reached the stairway to the parapet over the portcullis, his knights prepared to sally forth and meet their visitors if they proved to be enemies. Horses milled and snorted, and men spoke excitedly of action. Alex’s squire, Colin, had his horse saddled and was holding it for him, but he gave instructions to wait. Feeling like an old man, sore of joint and out of shape, he climbed to the parapet and moved past the guard to lean against the stone battlement. He looked out over the field that lay before the castle.
A cluster of mounted men stood dead center of the pasture. They flew no banner. Not good. That suggested a wariness or subterfuge that usually equaled threat. At the very least it lent itself to misunderstanding, which was nearly as dangerous. He instructed the guard to call out a challenge, and was obeyed, but no reply came from the intruders. Instead, the one at the front reached behind him to be handed off what looked like a long pole.
A banner, perhaps. Good. This would tell Alex what he needed to know about these clowns, and then they could talk. Or not.
But as the cloth unfurled from the pole, Alex’s heart stopped. Then it began to pound with an insistence that made him nearly choke. His mouth dropped open.
The flag raised by the leader of these men was of red and white stripes, and stars on a field of blue. Flapping lazily in the breeze outside his castle in April of 1316 was the flag of the United States of America.
CHAPTER 5
Lindsay’s skin felt burned. As she regained consciousness, she knew there must be blisters all over her face and hands. She groaned, and her throat rasped in raging pain. But when she ventured to touch her fingertips gently to her forehead, there were no blisters. Her skin was smooth, though it flinched at the touch. She looked at her hands. No discoloring. Only the pain. She looked around without moving her head, for even the turning of her eyeballs was a tender thing. She lay there, drawing slow, careful breaths, hoping the pain would diminish enough for her to raise her head.
From here she could see she was still near Perth, in Scone. The knoll rose above her, but not as it had been in the twenty-first century. The door was cleared of bracken and appeared sturdy. Almost new. She’d gone back in time, and could only hope it was far enough. Drifting on the currents of fate wouldn’t cut it this time.
After a few minutes, she tried again to move and found the pain had subsided. She could raise her head without feeling as if her skin would split open, and found the places her clothing bound weren’t as excruciating as they had been. She sat up.
It was nearing dark. The weather was cool and overcast, so she guessed the month to be May. June at the latest. The year could be nearly any. Not that it mattered all that much. It was Nemed she was after, and so long as he’d deposited her where she could find him physically, she could have what she was after. Alex had once forced him to send them home; she figured she could make him give back her son. Or else she’d kill him. Just then,
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