“Then I am glad we could be of assistance,” he said. Taking her by the arm, he pulled her into the chamber and indicating the men who were now looking at her quite openly as the mysterious pledge came into full view. “Some of these men helped save you as well. May I introduce you?”
Andressa had been around knights and men of rank most of her life, from her many years at Okehampton, and she was not intimidated by them. She nodded politely as Maxton introduced every man…the Earl of Hereford, the Earl of Canterbury, Viscount Winterton, Bric MacRohan, Sean de Lara, Kevin de Lara, Cullen de Nerra, Kress de Rhydian, Achilles de Dere, Alexander de Sherrington, and Gart Forbes.
All great men of the highest order and Andressa politely greeted each man, showing her well-trained manners. She recognized a few of them from earlier in the day, when she’d come the first time, but the rest were new. She was formally introduced, once again, to William Marshal, and he stood up from his chair to greet her.
“My lady,” he said, looking her over closely. “Now that we have formally met, I would like to thank you for the information you have provided to us. I do not know if you realize it, but you have provided key information to a dilemma we have been faced with.”
Andressa nodded. “Sir Maxton told me,” she said. “He said that you knew someone was going to try to assassinate King John.”
“And you have provided us with the answer to that mystery.”
Andressa drew in a deep breath. “But there is more now,” she said, looking between William and Maxton. “That is why I came back. That man who tried to kill me… he is a friend of the Mother Abbess.”
Maxton took her by the shoulders and guided her over to the fire, away from the chill of the room. “He is,” he answered. “It is complicated to explain who he is, but…”
“I know who he is,” she said, interrupting him. “He came from the Lateran Palace to deliver our Holy Father’s command to the Mother Abbess personally. I saw him at St. Blitha the day he brought the message. I told you of seeing him. He is the Scotsman.”
Maxton nodded. “His name is Alasdair Baird Douglas and he can no longer harm you. We saw to that.”
Andressa looked at him with some relief. “Did you lock him away?”
“We killed him. Don’t you remember?”
She really didn’t. Andressa didn’t remember much after the Scotsman grabbed her around the throat. Shaking her head, she looked to the men standing around her. “I am sorry that I do not,” she said. “I remember that he grabbed me… and not much else. But I thank you for saving my life, all of you.”
Christopher was standing the closest to her. As a man with a wife and several children, including two daughters who were verging on womanhood, he knew how to handle a woman. He could see how frightened and exhausted she was, so he had his brother grab a chair and he pulled it up for her, sitting her down next to the fire. He also asked his brother to send a servant for food for the lady, including a warmed drink. As David headedout of the solar, calling for a servant, Christopher smiled politely at Andressa.
“My lady, you have saved us more trial and trouble than you can possibly imagine,” he said. “And it was Maxton who mostly did away with your attacker, so he is the one to thank. We simply cleaned up his mess when he was finished. Now, you said you had more to tell us. Would you please tell us what more there is?”
Andressa found herself looking up at the very big, very blond earl who sported a neatly trimmed beard over his jaw. Behind him, his brother was returning to the group and she could see the family resemblance. They all seemed to be crowding in around her, which made her a little nervous, but she knew they were no threat to her. They had saved her life. Therefore, she wanted to be cooperative.
“I know how the nuns are going to kill the king,” she said, looking between Christopher and Maxton at this point. “Sister Petronilla told me how to do it. She stripped leaves from a foxglove plant and told me to crush them and put them into the king’s wine. She also told me to take the root from thedwaleplant and mash it, and to put that in as well as juice from the berries. They intend to poison the king and I am in charge of the wine.”
The men looked at each other. “Neat and uncomplicated,” Maxton said as he looked at Christopher over Andressa’s head. “And completely untraceable. The man would be dead before we could do anything about it.”
Christopher nodded. “Indeed,” he said, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. “Quite clever of them. What do you have planned, then?”
Maxton’s attention returned to Andressa. “You said you know the layout of the abbey,” he said. “Can you draw it out for us?”
Andressa nodded eagerly. “I can,” she said. “If you bring me a pen and parchment, I can draw out where this will take place.”
William sent one of his servants on the run for parchment and quill, which he kept in a smaller solar next to his bedchamber. While the man was gone, Andressa went to the hearth, where there was a solid layer of ashes on the stone, and picked up the fire poker. Kneeling down, she began to sketch out the footprint of the abbey.
“The abbey is laid out like so,” she said, sketching out a rudimentary rectangle with a long, oblong shape at one end. “This is the chapel. That is where Communion will take place for the feast day. The Bishop of Essex will be conducting the mass.”
She glanced up as she spoke, looking at a host of nodding heads. She continued. “He always performs the mass on feast day,” she went on. “That was something that was ordained long ago, long before the command for the king’s death ever came from our Holy Father.”
“Essex,” Maxton grunted as he looked at the others. “The vile beast himself will be giving Communion.”
“He will,” Andressa said as she sketched. “But he does not know of the plot against the king. I am sure the Mother Abbess would not tell him, given he is a confidante of the king. He is simply there to give Communion and nothing more.”
A floor plan was beginning to take shape in the ashes, one with chambers and buildings, and the men watched with interest.
“Is the king’s Communion wine poisoned?” Maxton asked.
She nodded. “All of it,” she said. “He will be given the same wine at Communion as he is at the feast. And this… this is where the feast will take place. This is the Mother Abbess’ private solar.”
She was indicating a large room that was next to the chapel. Maxton crouched down beside her, pointing to the drawing.
