CHAPTER TEN
St. Blitha
“Gracious Mother, I am very sorry about what happened in the kitchen yard.” Andressa was speaking quickly and her voice was quivering with fear. “I did not mean to knock Sister Blanche down, but I did not want her to hit me again. I am very sorry for creating such a scene. Please forgive me.”
In the lavish solar that belonged to the Mother Abbess, Andressa stood just inside the door, speaking to the Mother Abbess and three other nuns, women she’d known in her four years of servitude at St. Blitha. They were the Mother Abbess’ personal servants, nuns who shadowed the Mother Abbess, catered to her, and fulfilled her every whim. Andressa had seen more than one of those women take victims to The Chaos, so she feared them as much as she feared the Mother Abbess. To have all four of those deadly women looking at her, she was feeling cornered and terrified.
But the Mother Abbess, oddly enough, didn’t seem too angry. In fact, there was no hint of rage on her face as she stood over by the elaborate oriel windows of the chamber, the same windows that Andressa assumed provided the woman a clear view of what had happened with Sister Blanche.
She knew why she was here.
It must be bad, indeed. After the fight, she had been escorted back to the dormitory by two nuns when Sister Dymphna and Sister Petronilla came to take her to the Mother Abbess. That told Andressa that the situation was dire, indeed, so as she stood just inside the entry door and awaited her punishment, her knees were knocking so badly that it surely must have been clear in her manner. She was certain that the Mother Abbess’ rather calm expression was only a ruse, for she was in arm’s length of the Staff of Truth as it leaned up against the stone wall.
Andressa was certain that The Chaos awaited her.
God help me!
“You needn’t be frightened, Andressa,” the Mother Abbess said in her heavy Italian accent. “We saw the entire happening from here. We saw Sister Blanche strike you first. Why did she strike you, child?”
It was not the reaction Andressa had expected, which threw her off-balance. More than that, it was a question she didn’t want to answer. She knew it would only make things worse and she wasn’t a liar by nature, so the truth of the matter would come out. That was her problem; she had never been able to deliver a bold-faced lie and make it believable, not even to save her own neck. But perhaps she could soften it a bit with some half-truths. Those were a little easier. Swallowing hard, she prayed her explanation wouldn’t turn the Mother Abbess’ manner from calm to furious.
Please, God!
“She was angry because she saw me speaking with a man outside of the postern gate when I was collecting water, Gracious Mother,” she said nervously. “He… he saw me from the road and came to ask if he could draw water for me. I told him to go away, but he insisted on staying. He said that he had gone on the Crusade with King Richard and he spoke of a beastly animal called a camel. He would not leave so I took my water and entered the gate, and that is where Sister Blanche confronted me. She told me I was wicked for speaking to him and slapped me.”
That was as close to a lie as Andressa could come and she prayed it sounded believable. She honestly didn’t know. She watched the Mother Abbess’ face as the woman digested the information. Her only outward reaction was a slight lift of the eyebrows.
“I see,” the woman said. “Thank you for telling me the truth. And you do not know this man, Andressa?”
She shook her head. “Nay, Gracious Mother.”
“Did he give his name?”
“Maxton, Gracious Mother.”
“That is all he gave?”
Andressa nodded. “Aye, Gracious Mother.”
The woman’s dark gaze lingered on her for a moment before turning to glance at her minions, standing behind her. They were all looking at the Mother Abbess to see what her reaction would be to the situation so that they could react in kind. If she was angry, they would be angry. But if she wasn’t angry, then they wouldn’t be, either. In this case, the Mother Abbess seemed strangely thoughtful about the situation.
“It is true that the world outside our walls is exposed,” she said, to the sisters as well as to Andressa. “And the road from the city is not far off. Clearly, our stream and postern gate can be seen from the road. You did nothing to encourage this man, Andressa?”
Andressa shook her head firmly. “Nay, Gracious Mother. I begged him to leave me alone.”
That was the truth, for the most part, but she’d only asked him to leave when she was afraid they would be seen. But the Mother Abbess couldn’t know that. Andressa watched the woman pace over to the oriel windows, looking out over the cloister with its vast garden, and feeling a great deal of angst.
Was she angry?
Was she not?
“Did… did I do wrong, Gracious Mother?” Andressa asked, unable to keep silent. “I did not mean to. I was drawing my water and he came upon me.”
The Mother Abbess shook her head. “You did not do wrong,” she said. “But next time, do not linger on a conversation. Simply come in to the cloister and close the gate. It is best not to speak to a man who was bold enough to approach you from the road. He could have meant you harm.”
Andressa nodded quickly. “He did not seem threatening, Gracious Mother, but next time, I will not speak. I will simply come back to the cloister.”
The Mother Abbess looked at her. “Did he say there would be a next time?”
“He did not say, Mother Abbess.”
The Mother Abbess drew in a long, thoughtful breath. “I hope he will not,” she said. “If he does, you will send for me. I will tell him to stay away.”
Andressa nodded again, firmly. “I will, Gracious Mother,” she said. “Thank you for your protection.”
The Mother Abbess turned away from the window, giving Andressa her full attention. “I am here to protect you, child,” she said. “In fact, I wish for you to know that you are special to me. You work hard at your task and your work has fine results. I am pleased.”
Andressa smiled timidly. “Thank you, Gracious Mother.”
A flicker of a smile crossed the Mother Abbess’ lips. “You have proven yourself an intelligent, hard-working, and obedient girl, Andressa,” she said. “So much so, in fact, that I would very much like for you to truly become one of us at St. Blitha. I wish for you to become one of my personal attendants. Would you like that, child?”
Andressa was deeply surprised by her question. The Mother Abbess didn’t pay much attention to her other than her laundry duties, so she thought, so the woman’s desire that she should become a nun at St. Blitha was something of a great surprise. It had never even been discussed, but as she thought on it, she knew there was only one answer she could give. Refusal might find her in The Chaos because she was quite certain the Mother Abbess wouldn’t take kindly to it.
What the Mother Abbess wanted, the Mother Abbess received.
“I… I would, Gracious Mother,” she said. “I suppose I always thought I would take the veil at some point. My aunt has given me over to St. Blitha so I assume she wishes for me to remain here and serve God.”
The Mother Abbess came away from the window. “And you shall,” she said. “You shall serve him as I serve him. I shall not ask you to do anything I have not done or would not do when it comes to fulfilling God’s Will. That is what Sister Dymphna and Sister Agnes and Sister Petronilla and I have been doing, lo, these many years. We have dedicated our lives to serving the Will of God through our Holy Father. Our Holy Father has a very special need for St. Blitha.”
Andressa cocked her head curiously. “I did not realize that, Gracious Mother.”
The Mother Abbess came nearer, pulling out one of the elaborate chairs from the elaborate table she dined upon. It was a table bought with ill-gotten gains, with food and supplies stolen from the nuns, but it was a source of pride for the Mother Abbess. She didn’t see the sorrow on that table, only the luxury of it. The woman sat down, wearily, but her focus remained on Andressa.
“There is more you may not realize,” she said. “My brother, Celestine, was the pope before our current Holy Father came into power. As I was the servant to my brother, I am also the servant to Innocente. His name, long ago, was Lothario, or Lothar. But now he is the Holy Father known as Innocente, a very great and powerful man. He is also a man that the king of England hates and disputes. Are you aware of this?”
Andressa nodded. “When I fostered at Okehampton Castle, Lady de Courtney, my patroness, demanded that her ladies kept with current events,” she said. “As of four years ago, I know that King John had disputes with our Holy Father, but since then, I have not kept up with their relationship.”
The Mother Abbess nodded faintly. “It has not improved,” she said. “The king continues to mock and dispute a man who represents God upon this earth. I fear it is a travesty that the king continues to perpetuate. Surely his subjects see his lack of respect for our Holy Father and that diminishes their faith in him and in the church. That diminishes their respect and faith in us, here at St. Blitha. Mayhap that was even why that man approached you today – because he has little respect for the church you represent.”
Andressa knew that wasn’t why Maxton had come to St. Blitha, but she didn’t want to explain that away, so she simply remained silent. Still, there was something to what the Mother Abbess was saying – there was great contention between the king and the Holy Father, though she really wasn’t sure why the woman was bringing it up. Almost as if she was confiding in her, which was starting to throw confused Andressa even more than she already was. She thought she had been brought in to the Mother Abbess’ solar for punishment, but now it was turning into something else.
“I am sure anything is possible, Gracious Mother,” she said. “And it saddens me to think that our king’s behavior towards the Holy Father could turn his subjects against the church. Without the church, there is no civilization. We would all be animals. Lady de Courtney said so.”
The Mother Abbess smiled faintly. “It pleases me to hear you say that,” she said. “It warms my heart to know that I am making the right decision about you.”
“What decision is that, Gracious Mother?”
“The decision to bring you into my fold.”
There it was again; that declaration of possession. It wasn’t simply that Andressa was to become a nun at St. Blitha, but more than that – a personal attendant, as the Mother Abbess has phrased it. Frankly, Andressa was repulsed by the idea, terrified that this evil woman wanted to bring her closer but knowing there was no way for her to prevent it.
She had no choice.
The expression on her face must have been interpreted as confusion because the Mother Abbess continued quietly.
“For many years, I have served the Holy Father, as have the Sisters Dymphna, Agnes, and Petronilla,” she said. “We have all known each other since we were children. We are all orphans, like you, and we also have a strong desire to serve God, much as you do. But we are not getting any younger, Andressa. There are things we do for the Holy Father and those most loyal to him that we must pass to younger women. It is a great honor to become part of our sisterhood because we carry out work for God that no one knows of, nor will they ever. What we do is secretive and vital. You must become part of what we do and learn our ways, and how important our service to God is, so that you can assume our mantle when we have gone to our heavenly reward.”
It seemed to her that the Mother Abbess was talking in riddles. Andressa still wasn’t entirely clear on what was expected of her but she tried to sound cooperative. “I am will to do whatever you wish for me to do, Gracious Mother,” she said. “Teach me and I shall learn.”
The Mother Abbess leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table and folding her hands, as one would whilst praying.
“I shall, child,” she said. “I shall teach you everything. From this moment onward, you are part of us. You will become one of us, meaning our secrets, our knowledge, will become yours. Do you agree to this?”
Andressa nodded. “I do, Gracious Mother.”
“You will vow before God that you shall never go back on your word to me, Andressa, and that you shall keep to yourself everything I teach you. Will you do this?”
“I swear it, Gracious Mother.”
“Good. Because if you do, you shall know the pain of The Chaos first-hand.”
Andressa’s belly lurched, sinking straight down into her ankles. She’d gone from frightened, to confused, and back to frightened again during the course of the conversation. A deadly threat had just been delivered in a kind voice, as kind as any tone she’d ever heard. Such vile words, so softly spoken – that were pure evil, and there was no doubt in her mind that the Mother Abbess meant them sincerely.
Her knees began to quiver again.
Oh, God…
“I will not go back on my word, Gracious Mother,” she said steadily. “I only wish to serve God and be obedient to you.”
The Mother Abbess’ smile turned into a grimace. In truth, it was still a polite smile, but to Andressa, it was a gesture of wickedness and horror. “You are a good girl,” the Mother Abbess said. “Sit down and listen to me. We have much to discuss.”
Andressa quickly sat down in one of the fine chairs around the table. Across from her, Sisters Dymphna, Agnes, and Petronilla also sat, their focus solely on her. Andressa felt as if she was being scrutinized down to her very bones. She further wondered if those three nuns ever felt the same fear and horror of the Mother Abbess that she did.
She doubted it.
“It is important that you understand we have been given a great mission by the Holy Father,” the Mother Abbess said. “Do you recall two days ago when a man was in our chapel and he shouted at you? He wanted to know who I was. Do you recall this event?”
Andressa nodded unsteadily as she remembered that day and that moment. A dirty man had been standing before the Mother Abbess and he had screamed at her across the room, a Scottish accent demanding identification of the Mother Abbess. She recalled it clearly.
“I do, Gracious Mother.”
“He was a messenger from the Holy Father,” the Mother Abbess said seriously. “He had come to deliver a message to me personally. It is a message that will change the destiny of England, Andressa. Since you are to be part of us, you must know what has been asked of us. God has asked it of us, child. A directive from the Holy Father is a directive from God. Do you understand?”
Andressa bobbed her head. “I do.”
“And we are servants of God. We do what he asks us to do.”
“Aye, Gracious Mother. Always.”
That was the response that the Mother Abbess evidently wanted to hear. “As we carry out the Holy Father’s wishes, you will help us,” she said. “You will see what we do and how we do it, and we shall teach you what you need to know because you will carry on our work after we are gone. Do you understand?”
Andressa was afraid to say that she didn’t, but the truth was that she didn’t. She was so terrified of the consequences of failure that she needed to be clear.
“I do not completely, Gracious Mother,” she said honestly. “What am I to learn?”
The Mother Abbess’ gaze was intense. “You are to learn true service to God,” she said. “You are to learn what it means to accomplish a great and important task.”
“What is the task, Gracious Mother?”
“To kill the king.”
Andressa thought she hadn’t heard correctly. She sat there a moment and stared at the woman before her face flickered with confusion.
“To kill…?”
“John. Our directive from the Holy Father, and from God, is to kill King John.”
Andressa simply stared at her as the reality of what she was being told sank in. Much to her credit, she didn’t react outwardly, but inside, she was screaming. She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could, for now she understood why the Mother Abbess had sworn her to secrecy. A directive had come down from the Holy Father to murder a monarch and the nuns believed they were doing God’s work because of it.
She could see it in their faces.
Andressa was very bright; she understood what it would mean should she refuse to participate. Death awaited her, and God knew, she didn’t want to die. But she also didn’t want to be party to regicide, which was what these nuns were plotting. Andressa knew the Mother Abbess was capable of murder; God help her, she knew it. But to kill the king? Andressa knew her reaction to what she had been told would determine whether or not she lived or died.
She wanted to live.
Bracing herself, she spoke.
“If God has demanded it, then we must obey the holy command,” she said, praying she didn’t sound as shaken as she felt. “I am anxious to serve our Holy Father.”
Oh, but it was a lie coming out of her mouth. She didn’t want to help. She didn’t want any part of it. But self-preservation was flowing fast and heavy through her veins. She had to make it out of this alive. She watched the Mother Abbess for her reaction, praying it would be one of approval.
Praying she was believed.
Her prayers were answered. The Mother Abbess was evidently pleased, or at least encouraged by it, because she sat back in her chair with an expression of approval on her face. The dark eyes glittered.
“Is that all you have to say to this?” she asked. “You are English, Andressa. Our command is to kill your king. And you have nothing more to say to that?”
She does not believe me, Andressa thought with panic. Quickly, she struggled for a believable response. “Should I?” she said. “My father supported Richard, not John. In fact, he fought for Richard in his wars against his own father. My family has no love for John. But if he is removed, then who shall take his place?”
The Mother Abbess waved a dismissive hand. “Our Holy Father has already made that determination,” she said. “Suffice it to say he shall be better than what England has with John. We are saving England, Andressa. There is great honor in this.”
There was no honor in it. It was murder, but the Mother Abbess was trying very hard to convince her otherwise. She also alluded to the fact that there was already a replacement for the king, ready and waiting, someone clearly chosen by the Holy Father. It was already planned, all of it. Now, it was simply a matter of executing the plot. Andressa was so frightened that she simply went along with it.
“There is great honor in serving God,” she said, “and I… I am honored that you would trust me into your sisterhood. I shall not disappoint you, Gracious Mother.”
The Mother Abbess studied her a moment longer before looking away, rising from her chair. As she did so, the three sisters also rose, and Andressa took the cue and also bolted to her feet. The four of them watched as the Mother Abbess wandered over to the oriel windows overlooking the cloister.
“It will happen thusly,” the Mother Abbess said. “The king will come to us on the feast day of St. Blitha and it is then that we shall carry out our command. You, dear Andressa, are an excellent servant of God and I urge you to continue to be so. We want no failings in our sisterhood.”
“I shall not fail, Gracious Mother.”
The Mother Abbess turned to look at her. “I believe you,” she said. “And as a reward for your obedience, I shall expand your duties. After you complete your usual laundry duties, you shall help Sister Petronilla in the garden and she shall show you what we must do in order to carry out our mission. She will take you under her wing and ensure you know all she knows. Won’t you, Sister Petronilla?”
Andressa found herself looking at a round woman with heavy, dark brows. She knew Sister Petronilla by name only, because in the time she’d been at St. Blitha, she’d never had any closer interaction with her. But Sister Petronilla was looking her over now, perhaps even haughtily.
“I will, Gracious Mother,” Sister Petronilla said. “I will work closely with her to ensure she understands everything.”
“Excellent,” the Mother Abbess said. “Then the matter is settled. Andressa, finish your duties in the laundry today and tomorrow, once they are completed again, you will join Sister Petronilla in the garden.”
“Aye, Gracious Mother,” Andressa agreed. She hesitated a moment before speaking. “The last of my duties today includes Lady Hickley’s fine dress. She wanted it for this evening. May I take it to her?”
“Of course,” the Mother Abbess said. “She is a fine customer. Collect any additional washing from her while you are there.”
“I will, Gracious Mother.”
“And I know that Lady Hinkley likes to entertain. If she asks you to remain and eat with her, you may do so. We must keep Lady Hinkley happy so that she will send us all of her washing.”
“Aye, Gracious Mother.”
With that, Andressa sensed they were at the end of their clandestine gathering and she was nearly frantic to get out of that room. That hellish room where the evil of the Mother Abbess coated the very walls. She’d always known the woman to be wicked, but after the conversation they just had, even Andressa couldn’t have imagined how deep that malevolence ran. But she didn’t dare leave before she was dismissed, so she stood there until the Mother Abbess decided the subject at hand was concluded. It was a painfully long wait.
“Be on your way,” she finally told Andressa. “There is much to do. God is on our side, Andressa. Remember that.”
“I do, Gracious Mother.”
“You may go.”
Andressa did. She went to the Mother Abbess, kissing the woman’s hand as a sign of respect, before making her way from the chamber at a calm and leisurely pace. It wasn’t until she made it into the corridor outside, the one with the stairs that led down to The Chaos, that she collapsed against a wall, fighting off tears that were threatening to explode. It took her a moment to regain her composure but when she did, she hastily made her way back out to the laundry yard, resuming her duties in case the Mother Abbess was watching from her windows.
Something told Andressa that she was.
Even as she went through the motions of removing the dried laundry from the hemp ropes, her mind was working furiously. No matter how the Mother Abbess had phased it, to kill King John was not God’s work. The God Andressa worshipped was not a wicked deity, demanding the death of a monarch. The very rationale was ludicrous, but Andressa seemed to be the only one who saw it that way. To think that God was demanding the death of a king through the Holy Father was delusional. God didn’t demand death, and if He did, then He had the power to make the man drop dead. He didn’t send mortal man to do his bidding.
It was the pope who wanted the king dead.
Andressa was having a difficult time realizing just how vast this plot was. The pope himself wanted his enemy removed and had finally ordered John’s death, and the Mother Abbess would carry it out. The king would be coming to St. Blitha on her feast day, in just a few days in fact, and the Mother Abbess would be waiting for him like a spider waiting for a fly. The king would be oblivious to the danger awaiting him at the Abbey of St. Blitha, and there wasn’t a thing Andressa could do to prevent it. If she tried, then her life would be forfeit.
But Andressa knew one thing – she couldn’t stand by and watch the King of England murdered by women who professed to love God. They were beyond reproach, and beyond suspect, and in that sense, it made them the perfect assassins. Even Andressa understood the beauty of that.
God, help me. What do I do?
Those words rolled over and over in her mind as she continued to remove the dried laundry, separating it into batches that would be collected by the servants who had brought them to the abbey in the first place. Servants from the fine families who thought their clothes were being washed in holy water.
They were being washed in lies.
God, help me!
As Andressa began to remove the fine undergarments of Lady Hinkley’s that she would soon deliver to the woman in her townhome in London, her gaze fell on the postern gate. That reminded her of Maxton and the very reason she’d ended up before the Mother Abbess in the first place.
A knight…
Then, it began to occur to her. She’d told Maxton of the Mother Abbess, of her Staff of Truth, and of The Chaos. She’d told a man she didn’t even know about things that could kill her, but she’d trusted him right away. Perhaps it was only because he’d bought her a meal, but she knew it was more than that. There was something about the enormous knight that told her he was trustworthy. She didn’t know what it was beyond a feeling or an instinct, but she knew there was something in him that was honorable. He’d already tried to help her escape St. Blitha once, but she’d refused. Perhaps he would know what to do in this terrible situation. Perhaps he could even warn the king off of coming to St. Blitha for the feast day. In any case, she had to try.
She had to find him.
If you ever need me, my lady, leave word at The King’s Gout Tavern.
Gathering Lady Hinkley’s fine things, she left via the postern gate, quickly heading out to the road that lead into the city of London.