Knave's Honor
The Midlands, 1204"I feared I'd go mad if I had to sit in that wagon another moment," Lady Elizabeth of Averette declared as she lifted the skirts of her blue woolen traveling gown and delicately picked her way toward the mossy bank of the swift-moving stream.
"Don't you think we ought to stay with the men?" her maidservant asked, anxiously glancing back toward the escort of mail-clad soldiers who had dismounted nearby.
As such men were wont to do, they joked and cursed among themselves while they led their horses to drink or let them eat the plentiful grass by the side of the road. Some of them took out heels of bread from their packs or downed a sip of ale. The leader of the cortege, Iain Mac Kendren, did neither. He stood with feet planted and arms akimbo as if he were a statue, only his turning head giving any hint that he was alive and keeping watch.
"Last nig ... read full excerpt from Knave's Honor ebook
