Honor was everything, even among assassins.
“I saw Gart yesterday, right after he left a meeting with you and William Marshal,” Alexander said after a moment. “We spoke briefly, but he told me that The Marshal has tasked you and your Unholy brethren with finding the papal assassins meant for the king. Do we know for certain the Holy Father has sent others?”
“We do not know for certain, but we can surmise. We refused to do the job, so they would simply find others.”
“That is my thought, as well,” Alexander said. Then, he paused. “I have a thought about that, Max.”
“What?”
“I wonder if the assassin is Douglas.”
Now, Maxton was very interested. “The man you are chasing? What makes you think so?”
Alexander stroked his bearded chin, turning towards the windows overlooking London, a glorious sight now that the sun had risen. He’d missed this sight in the years he’d spent away from England. The ribbon of the Thames was to the south, glittering in the early morning light, and the land to the west spread out to the horizon like a vast green jewel. Green, beautiful England.
He was glad to be back, no matter what the circumstances.
“I say that because I have been chasing the man for a year and we have ended up in London,” he said. “Coincidentally, when John happens to be here. Douglas has led me on a merry chase, but he has never stayed more than a night or two in any given location– we have been to more cities and villages than I can count, and I have never been more than a few days behind him. But now that we are in London, we are going on the third night here and I’ve seen no movement from the man. He is dug in like vermin on a dog.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Alexander nodded. “I do,” he said. “He is down by the docks.”
Maxton cocked his head curiously. “Then if you know where he is, why not fulfill your task and do away with him? Why wait?”
Alexander glanced at him, something lurking on those dark eyes. “Because the man has my curiosity,” he said. “I could have killed him many times during the course of my travels, but his movements intrigue me. He has left his share of used women and death in his wake, but once we reached Berwick, he sent a messenger north into Scotland, but I managed to catch up to themessenger and kill him, so the Scottish king will not be receiving any intelligence from Douglas. I am sure he does not know that, and now he is here in London, lingering. But what is most strange about his movement is this– I tracked him to St. Blitha, a poor Dominica order outside of the city walls to the north. I have no idea why he was there, but he stayed for more than an hour before departing and fleeing into the city.”
Maxton’s eyebrows lifted.St. Blitha!That was where his starving angel resided, the woman who had occupied his mind since nearly the moment he’d met her. Confusion swept him.
“Why in the hell would he be going to St. Blitha?” he asked. “There are only women there. What message could he possibly have for them?”
Alexander shook his head. “I cannot tell you,” he said. “It is possible he has a sister there, I suppose. Mayhap he went to visit her. Or, more than likely, he has a message from the Lateran Palace for one of the nuns.”
“A message from whom?”
Alexander lifted his shoulders. “According to Abramo, Douglas had many audiences with the Holy Father before he left,” he said. “Mayhap, it is a message from the Holy Father himself, although I have no idea why the man would be sending a message to a tiny, poor order like St. Blitha.”
“But it was Abramo who sent you to kill the man?”
“Aye.”
“Did he do it on the order of the Holy Father?”
Alexander shook his head. “He made it clear that there was no such order,” he said quietly. “It is Abramo who wants him dead, not the Holy Father.”
All of that made absolutely no sense to Maxton. “Baffling,” he muttered. “What concerns me, however, is your thought that he could be the very assassin I am looking for. Could it be possible he went to St. Blitha asking for sanctuary after he completes histask against John? If you think about it, killing the king and then hiding in an obscure abbey until he can escape London is a rather brilliant plan.”
“A plan that could have come from the Holy Father in one of those many meetings with him that he has had with the man.”
The light went on in Maxton’s eyes. “Indeed,” he growled. “Now, this is starting to make some sense. Your assignment to kill Douglas could solve both our problems.”
Alexander nodded knowingly, tapping the side of his head as if to congratulate them both on figuring out a most complex and confusing scheme.Ifit was true. At this moment, they had no reason to believe it wasn’t.
“What next?” Alexander asked him.
Maxton thought on that question quite seriously. “I believe you should go to the docks,” he said. “Kress and Achilles are already there, scouting out the area. Find them and tell them what we have discussed. As for me… I have business at St. Blitha.”
“What are you going to do?”
