Chapter Eleven #2
The light went on in Kress’ eyes. “And then he fed the woman a meal. It must have been at the nearest tavern.”
“The King’s Gout,” they all said in unison.
Soon, they were all moving down the stairs, thinking there must be a connection between The King’s Gout and the pledge from St. Blitha.
So many pieces to a puzzle that was pulling together, but all of them were thinking the same thing – there had to be a connection between the pledge and the tavern, and now someone from the tavern had come to give Maxton a message.
There wasn’t one of them that didn’t want to know the details of that message.
The mystery deepened.
*
Maxton recognized the messenger.
It was the son of the tavern keeper at The King’s Gout, a tall and pale young man who was half the size of his blobish father.
Maxton remembered the young man because he was evidently somewhat of a loaf and when Maxton had been at the tavern earlier, the father had been yelling at the lad because he hadn’t moved fast enough for his liking.
There was also a swat with a shovel involved.
But the young man appeared healthy enough, with no imprints of shovels on him.
Unless he’d been hit in the head, of course, which was a possibility because he had crossed eyes, making it difficult to know where, exactly, the young man was looking.
Maxton had the gate guards usher him into the shadowed courtyard.
“Well?” Maxton demanded. “Why has your father sent you?”
The young man looked at him; or, at least, one of his eyes looked at him. “Are ye Loxbeare, m’lord?”
Maxton nodded sharply. “Do you have a message for me?”
The young man looked him up and down. “I do, m’lord,” he said. “From a lady. She wants to know if ye’ll see her.”
“What lady?”
“She gives her name as Andra… Andra…”
“Andressa?”
“Aye, m’lord.”
The mere mention of the name seemed to set Maxton on fire. He reached out, grasping the young man by the arm. “Is she at the tavern?” he demanded forcefully. But just as swiftly, he let go of the young man’s arm. “I shall go with you. Let me collect my things.”
But the young man put his hands up to slow Maxton down. “She’s not at the tavern, m’lord,” he said. “Wait here. I’ll bring her.”
Maxton’s eyebrows drew together. “Bring her here?” he said. “Where is she?”
The young man kept his hands up as if to beg patience from the enormous knight who seemed quite fired up by the mention of the lady. He dashed away, heading for the fortified door where the guards were and, at Maxton’s urging, the guards opened the door and the young man ran through it.
Puzzled, Maxton was heading for the door himself to see what was going on when the young man suddenly reappeared with a figure in tow. It took Maxton less than a brief second to realize it was Andressa.
She looked frightened and a little dazed, wrapped up in her dirty woolens like a shield from the world at large. The young man had her by the arm, urging her forward, but when she saw Maxton, she needed no urging. Their eyes met and she scurried through the open door.
“My lady?” Shocked, Maxton moved quickly to her. “Are you well?”
Andressa gazed up at him with an expression that told him all he needed to know.
No, she wasn’t well. Something was very wrong, and he immediately noticed that she was trembling.
As she struggled for an answer to his question, he dug into the purse at his belt and gave the young man a coin.
When the young man dashed off, Maxton took Andressa by the arm and gently pulling her into the courtyard.
“I… I am sorry to have come uninvited,” Andressa finally said.
“You said that I could leave word for you at The King’s Gout, but…
it could not wait for you to receive it.
I asked the tavern keeper if he would tell me where you lived and he had his son bring me here.
I am very sorry to be such trouble, but… ”
Maxton interrupted her. “It is no trouble at all,” he said. “I am glad you found me. How may I be of service?”
Andressa looked around; they were in the interior courtyard of a very big manor house and there were people all around, people she didn’t know. People who could tell the Mother Abbess that she’d come to this place. Suddenly, her fear had the better of her and she began to back away.
“I should not have come,” she whispered tightly, tears filling her eyes as she tried to pull her arm from his grip. “I should go. Forgive me, please.”
There was something desperate and almost incoherent about her manner, concerning Maxton a great deal. As much as she tried to pull away from him, he would not let her.
“Do not be troubled,” he assured her calmly. “No one will hurt you, I promise. What is so important that you had to come and find me?”
Andressa was coming to realize he wasn’t about to let her go so she stopped pulling.
But she didn’t want to speak in front of all of these people even though they appeared not to be paying any attention to her.
She couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t overhear what she had to say. She was trying very hard not to cry.
“May we… may we speak privately, please?” she whispered. “I do not have much time, my lord. Quickly, please.”
His reply was cut off as men suddenly surrounded them.
Kress, Achilles, Alexander, and William were suddenly there, all around them, and Andressa panicked at the sight of so many armed men.
She shrunk back from the big knights, struggling to pull away from Maxton again, so much so that he grabbed her with both hands and pulled her against him, trying to give her some comfort.
“Have no fear, my lady,” he assured her quickly, backing away from his friends to put distance between the frantic lady and the strange knights.
“They will not hurt you, I swear it. They are simply clumsy, but they mean you no harm. Please meet my close and good friends Sir Kress de Rhydian, Sir Achilles de Dere, Sir Alexander de Sherrington, and William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke. Surely you have heard of Lord William? He is a very great and important man.”
Andressa was looking at all of them with big eyes, caught up in a web of men that had her rethinking her idea to seek out Maxton.
It didn’t seem like a good idea any longer, but she felt like she was trapped now.
She couldn’t even respond to his introductions.
She looked at him, her big eyes pooling with tears.
“Please,” she begged again. “I must speak to you privately.”
Maxton simply nodded, holding a hand out to the four men hovering around them, silently pleading with them not to follow.
They obeyed, but it was clear they didn’t want to.
Seeing the very poorly-dressed woman in Maxton’s grip suggested this was the very pledge Maxton had been speaking of throughout the day, something that had their curiosities sharpened.
She was from St. Blitha, and they all knew that St. Blitha was the key to this entire mystery.
Maxton knew that, all too well. He knew exactly what they were thinking as he put a big arm around Andressa’s shoulders and led her back into the house, into the darkened ground level.
The only thing down here were armories and kitchens and servants’ rooms, so he took her up the great mural stairs and into the first chamber they came to, a smaller receiving room that was next to the massive solar.
The receiving room was generally meant for retainers of the great men who would attend The Marshal in his solar, so it was comfortable and well-appointed.
It was also private, with only one door and one window that faced out over the inner courtyard.
Maxton escorted Andressa inside and turned to close the door, but the moment he released her, she drifted over to the other side of the chamber and collapsed in the corner.
Distressed, Maxton watched Andressa roll herself up into a ball and sob. She had her hands over her head in a protective gesture, as if hiding from something quite horrible. With a sigh, one of great concern, Maxton made his way over to her.
“My lady,” he said gently. “What has happened? All you need to do is speak the word and I will do all in my power to help you. Please tell me what has happened.”
It took Andressa a moment to respond. In fact, her only response was to lift her head and wipe off her face with her dirty sleeves. It was all she had. She was a quivering, weeping mess and Maxton sat carefully in the chair nearest her, not wanting to startle her.
“My lady?” Maxton said again. “Please tell me – what has happened?”
She wiped at her face, furiously, before daring to look at him. When she did, he could see the tears starting all over again.
“I do not know what to do,” she murmured, her lower lip quivering. “I do not know who to ask for help. You have been kind to me and I thought mayhap…”
“Mayhap… what?”
“Mayhap you could tell me what to do.”
“About what?”
Her face threatened to crumple again but she fought it.
She had little time to speak and didn’t want to spend the entire time weeping like a fool, but God, she needed to cry, just a little.
It had been building up since her meeting with the Mother Abbess, an explosion waiting to happen. But the explosion was over now.
She needed to tell someone.
She took a deep breath.
“You must swear to me that you will not repeat what I tell you,” she said.
He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “What is it?”
Andressa took another deep breath. “I need your help.”
“Tell me what I can do to help you.”
“I am so frightened. I have never been so frightened in my entire life.”
“Why? Won’t you please tell me why?”
Her gaze grew intense. “You must tell the king not to go to St. Blitha for the feast day.”
Maxton never knew that one little statement could electrify him so much. His entire body began to tingle, tensing up as if he’d been wound up as tightly as he could go.
“Why is that?”