It was a gouge she would tell the Mother Abbess that the marked pitcher was meant for the king, but she wasn’t finished with it. Into that gouged pitcher, she put a second sachet that mimicked the one she’d put the poisonous plants in, only this cheesecloth sachet held harmless dead rose petals and dried grass. It would trick the sisters into believing that particular pitcher was the poisoned one. Only Andressa would know which wine was truly poisoned.
And that was the wine destined for the Mother Abbess.
With all three pitchers of wine ready and waiting, Andressa went about her duties of supervising the coming feast. The kitchen nuns, older women who were so bereft of all hope that they moved around like mindless ghosts, had been up before dawn as well, without the supervision of Sister Blanche. The women were boiling beef in a great pot over an open flame in preparation of the coming feast, and the smell of baking bread filled the crisp morning air.
The smells of cooking weren’t unusual at St. Blitha, but it was food always meant for the Mother Abbess’ fine table. Even this morning, as Andressa had worked, she saw at least four or five pledges and postulates slip from the postern gate in their morning hunt for food and she felt sorry that the smells of cooking were making those poor starving women miserable.
But it was misery, Andressa hoped, that would soon be ended.
Ironic how she had no guilt about poisoning the Mother Abbess and anyone else who drank the poisoned wine. She knew it might also be Sisters Agnes and Petronilla, but still, she felt no remorse. Murder was a sin, and she knew that, but she hopedthat when she stood before God on Judgement Day, he would understand that what she did had been for the greater good. Unless the Mother Abbess and her kind were stopped, more women were going to die. Murder would continue.
Andressa hoped that God would understand that.
Because of her management duties in the kitchen this morning, Andressa was able to steal a piece of beef under the guise of tasting it to see if it was fit for the feast. She had the cook add more salt to the water to flavor the meat after she’d stuffed several morsels into her mouth, feeding her rumbling belly. It was good beef, bought with the Mother Abbess’ ill-gotten money, and the bread was made with the finest flour. All of it fit for a kingly feast, as the wine in the laundry area continued to leech more and more poison out of the ingredients that had been placed in it.
It was turning into a potion unto itself.
The morning began to deepen and the sun began to make its march across the sky as there was some commotion over by the chapel, specifically at the Abbot’s Lodge as the Bishop of Essex made his arrival for the feast day.
The chapel, and the garden, filled with the bishop’s men because he traveled with a massive entourage. Horses were stuffed into the barnyard on the east side of the kitchen, and as Andressa stood back in her shaded laundry area, stirring the poison wine with a stick to ensure the ingredients were melding well with the wine itself, she could see the bishop himself and the Mother Abbess, with Sister Agnes, and Sister Petronilla, standing between the garden and the Abbot’s Lodge.
Andressa watched the scene closely, noting that they seemed to be in discussion. She was positive that the Mother Abbess hadn’t told the bishop of the directive from the Holy Father because the bishop and the king were friends, and the bishop was one of the man’s advisors.
Aatto de Horndon was a loud man, obvious in manner and in mood, and he was greatly disliked by almost everyone. The Mother Abbess enjoyed a close relationship with him, probablytooclose, and the woman surely wasn’t going to jeopardize that by telling him of the Holy Father’s order. He may very well try to stop it.
And there was no stopping wheels that were already in motion.
Therefore, Andressa went back to work as the sun continued to rise and the day turned surprisingly mild from the icy temperatures they’d been having this season. She went back and forth between the kitchens and the laundry area, alternately making sure the food was being well-prepared and tending to her concoction of wines. In fact, she was busily tending to the poisoned wine, stirring and stirring, when she heard a noise from the postern gate. Although she knew it was locked, she turned to see what the noise was.
A familiar face was staring back at her.
Andressa recognized one of Maxton’s knightly friends, dressed in full mail and a tunic of scarlet with three lions, the royal standard. He was up against the gate, looking right at her, and she could see more soldiers milling around behind him, which told her that the king had arrived.
The realization made her stomach lurch, nerves becoming evident now. Everything would soon be coming to a head and if it wasn’t executed properly, it would be a bloodbath of legendary proportions that she would find herself caught up in. But the time was upon her and she knew she had to act quickly before her duties took her away from any direct communication with Maxton and his men.
Picking up a bucket, the one she’d used to rinse away the dirt from thedwaleroots, she went to the postern gate and unlocked it.
Pushing through the gate, pretending to be going to the stream, she could see several royal soldiers milling around and a few of them turned to look at her as she emerged from the gate. So did the knight she had seen; as soon as she came through the gate, he hung back, letting her move to the stream before closing the gap and making his way to her.
“My lady?” he asked quietly, his eyes on the gate to ensure no one was watching them. “What happened to you? Why are you bandaged?”
Andressa was having difficulty drawing water with only one working hand. When he saw this, he quickly took the bucket from her and dunked it into the stream.
“It is of no consequence,” she answered softly. “You must tell Maxton that the Mother Abbess will only be helped by two of her attendants today. The third one is gravely injured. The two are with her right now as she speaks to the bishop and I imagine they will continue to remain with her for the duration of the mass. One woman is fat and round, and the other woman has very dark eyebrows. That is the only way you can distinguish them, considering they are wearing the same habits.”
The knight, a very tall man with enormous shoulders and piercing, dark eyes, stood up from the stream with the full water bucket. “I will tell him,” he said as he handed the bucket back to her and she grasped it with her good hand. “Tell me what happened to you, my lady. Maxton must know.”
Andressa didn’t have time to explain everything. Besides, if she did, she had a feeling it might enrage Maxton. She didn’t know the man’s moods or reactions very well, but given he’d killed Douglas so quickly when she’d been threatened, she imagined he didn’t have much self-control. He probably acted on anger very easily, and that wasn’t something they needed at the moment. They had to get through the mass without Maxton running amok because of her injuries.
“I will heal,” she said, taking her water and turning away. “Go and tell Maxton what I told you.”
“But…”
She cut him off. “Hurry, now,” she said. “Tell Maxton to prepare for what is to come. Be shocked by nothing.”
“What does that mean, my lady?”
“You will know when you see it.”
