Maxton glanced at his clothing. “I fear we need decent weapons and clothing,” he said. “We cannot go on a hunt looking like paupers.”
William nodded sharply. “Gart shall get you everything you need,” he said. Then, he pointed a finger at Maxton. “But there is no time to waste. Get what you need and be quick about it. John is in London because he has called a meeting of his marcher lords, and I intend to be part of that meeting.”
“Marcher lords?” Maxton repeated. “Is there trouble in Wales, then? Is that what has been happening since we have been in The Levant?”
William shook his head. “Nothing so dramatic,” he said. “John has a surprisingly good relationship with the Welsh, but there are the usual things to discuss. It is a country always on the brink of rebellion, so he has called for his marcher lords. Christopher and David de Lohr shall be there, as well as the Lords of the Trilaterals, the de Laras. They should all be converging on London as we speak.”
A flicker of recognition crossed Maxton’s features. “The de Lohr brothers will be here?”
“I take it you know them?”
Maxton thought on the two men he’d known for twenty years or more, men who were essential for the control of the country. He’d fought with them, and killed for them, and had been allied with them for a very long time. But their relationship hadn’t always been a good one. Maxton had a love/hate relationship with Christopher even in the best of times, and when the men had all served in The Levant together, Christopher and David had taken the path of glory at Richard’s side while Maxton and Kress and Achilles had found themselves embroiled in the dirty dealings of the Christian commanders.
Perhaps, there was a part of Maxton that had resented the de Lohr brothers and their righteous path to glory, and therehad been contention between them because of it. But the truth was that Maxton’s contention with Christopher, in particular, had old roots, indeed. The noble and honorable Christopher compared to the sly and ruthless Maxton. Maxton had watched Christopher soak up the adulation at times while Maxton remained in the shadows, doing the dirty work.
He was still doing the dirty work.
“Aye, I know them,” he finally said. “Do Christopher and David know of this plot against John?”
William shook his head. “No one does,” he said. “But I intend to tell them. They are trustworthy. And we may need their assistance, so it is better if they know.”
Maxton couldn’t disagree with him, but he had a point to make. “Tell them if you must, but I will not tolerate any interference from them. Chris was Richard’s champion and he may feel as if his greatness is needed in this situation as well. You will tell him that it is not. For what I must do, I do not need a de Lohr.”
There was some animosity as he spoke, cluing William in on the fact that although Maxton knew Christopher, there was evidently no love lost there. But he wouldn’t ask about it; he didn’t care, anyway. He was more focused on Loxbeare and ensuring the man had his full confidence to do the job tasked to him.
“De Lohr will not interfere,” he assured him. “In any case, I shall return to Farringdon in a day or two, and I shall expect to hear of your plan for the king. Is this clear?”
Maxton took him at his word when it came to de Lohr, making it easier for him to return his focus to the task ahead of him. “It is, my lord.”
There was respect in his tone, not missed by William. “Excellent,” he said. “Now that you have your duty, you will excuse me to go about mine.”
Without another word, he excused himself and headed out of the tavern with his men in tow, leaving Maxton, Gart, Kress, and Achilles still seated at the table. It was true that a hint of shock still lingered among them, and perhaps the slightest bit of intimidation of the job ahead of them. It was an extremely important one, perhaps more important than anything they’d ever done. But they would not fail.
Theycouldnot.
“Well?” Maxton said, breaking the silence. “It seems we have a task to complete.”
Gart, who had remained largely silent and observant throughout the conversation with William, could hear the confidence in Maxton’s tone and it was both surprising and pleasing. The man he’d just spent the past few months with had lacked that tone in his voice; even Kress had commented about it.Max was quiet during our months in captivity, and when he did speak, he was oddly philosophical. If Gart hadn’t known any better, he would think that Maxton was beginning to question everything he’d ever known, his very existence, in fact. Gart had witnessed the change in the man, but in just a short conversation with William Marshal, Gart didn’t sense that change from Maxton any longer.
That confidence was much more like the man he knew.
Perhaps it was because the man had a purpose now, or perhaps it was because he was feeling useful again. Months in captivity could damage a man’s soul, but Maxton was strong. Perhaps, all of the quietness had been his way of dealing with the situation and nothing more. It didn’t seem to matter now, whatever the reason, because Gart could see glimmers of the Maxton he knew before him.
A man who would get the job done or die trying.
He hoped it didn’t come to that.
CHAPTER FOUR
London
Inside the city walls, near Bishopsgate
She was starving.
It was just before dawn on the dark, cold, and dangerous streets of London as she kept to the shadows, looking out for any threat, and then stumbling along the gutter in her quest for something to eat. It didn’t even matter what it was; she hadn’t eaten in two days and her insides were starting to gnaw themselves out. Her entire body was quaking, suffering from the lack of sustenance, but unfortunately it was an all-too-common state for her.
She starved on a regular basis.
