“An ambush?”
“Or worse.”
That suggestion had the approval of Maxton and Kress. “Then we must figure out what to tell him,” Maxton said. “We can make it so the man can escape back to Philip and tell him everything we want Philip to know.”
As Kress and Alexander nodded in agreement, William held up a hand. “Indeed, we can and we will. But at this moment, I am more concerned over the cryptic words of danger that the woman spy spoke of,” he said. “Forget about John’s plans of invasion in Normandy for a moment. I have said this before and I shall say it again – John may be a thorn in the side of every Englishman, but he is still our monarch. It behooves us to keep him alive because our alternative is a six-year-old heir. The only real danger in England is a direct threat to the monarchy. That is the only real way England herself would weaken. Would you agree?”
Everyone nodded to certain degrees and William continued.
“The woman said that danger was right under our noses,” he muttered thoughtfully. Then, he looked to Alexander. “What does that mean to you?”
Alexander shrugged. “Something obvious that we do not realize.”
William looked to Maxton expectantly. “The same,” Maxton said.
William moved to Kress. “And you?”
Kress cocked his head thoughtfully. “Mayhap something that we cannot see more than it is something obvious we do not suspect,” he said. “That would make more sense to me. Subversion under our noses that we simply cannot see.”
“Someone we would never suspect,” Christin said softly.
Her voice was soft, unexpected, and the men all looked at her. “Speak up, my lady,” William said. “You have the de Lohr mind. I will listen. You said someone we would never suspect?”
After a moment of hesitation, Christin nodded firmly. “If danger is under our noses, then it would make sense it would be someone we would never suspect,” she said. “Wouldn’t the greatest danger be from someone we trusted who was not who we thought he was?”
It was an astute observation from a young woman who had not spent years in the espionage game. William nodded faintly; he agreed with her for the most part. But he wasn’t a man to pin everything on one theory.
There was more to this situation than met the eye.
“That would make sense,” he said. “But it could be any number of things, so we must not focus on one thing only. I will stand by my opinion that, somehow, John is under threat and that threat is in this country. Something greater than all of the other threats we face. We will reach out to our network to see if anyone has seen or heard anything, but until we receive answers, it is important that John is watched. I believe he is attending a feast in his honor at Norwich Castle in a fortnight. Lady Christin, you would know this to be true.”
Christin nodded quickly. “Aye, my lord,” she said. “Lord de Winter is having a feast in celebration of the king’s birthday, which is next month. He has invited all of his allies to attend.”
“A threat under our noses,” Alexander murmured thoughtfully. When everyone looked at him, his gaze moved to Christin, sitting straight in the chair opposite The Marshal. “It could be one of the allies.”
Christin didn’t want to agree or disagree. These men were the greatest minds in the land, just like her father, and she wasn’t so arrogant as to believe she could match wits or opinions with them. So, she simply smiled, without humor, the flash of a smile that was noncommittal because, truly, she had no business giving Alexander her opinion. But as she stared at the man and he stared back, she realized one thing –
His eyes were hypnotic.
She was looking into greatness. She knew that. Alexander de Sherrington was a name she’d heard for the past year, solidly, to the point where even Peter had built Alexander up into something legendary. She didn’t know what to expect when she finally met him, perhaps a marble god from the top of the Parthenon, but she’d never expected the man to be such a handsome beast. It had been difficult for her to take her eyes from him since the moment she met him.
Something about him was dark, delicious, and enticing.
But he was far beyond her reach. She knew that. Men like Alexander de Sherrington didn’t attach themselves to women in any way because their vocation was their wife and mistress. They were men of warfare and death, and what was she?
Absolutely nothing.
In fact, Christin knew that she’d probably said too much already in this meeting even though The Marshal had been kind about it. Still… throughout this entire gathering, she had the distinct feeling that she’d made a mistake when she killed the French agent. Perhaps a more experienced agent would not have, realizing the French agent would have been a valuable prisoner.
It was a mistake that was starting to haunt her.
As she sat there and pondered the greater implications of her actions, The Marshal suddenly barked.
“Bric,” he said sharply.
Bric stepped out of the shadows. “My lord?”
William turned to look at him. “You are heading back to Narborough, are you not?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Then you will ride with Peter and Lady Christin back to Norwich first,” he said. “I want you to inform Old Daveigh de Winter of what we have discovered so he knows what is happening. The king will be under the man’s roof and he should know if we suspect turmoil. Then you will continue on to Narborough and tell his nephew, Young Daveigh, what is happening. When John’s feast occurs, I expect you and your liege to be there.”
Bric nodded shortly. “Aye, my lord.”
With that directive given, William turned to speak to the last knight in the room. “De Lara?”
Kevin de Lara stepped forward, almost hidden back in the recesses where he’d been waiting. He wasn’t as tall as some of the men around him, making it easier to overlook him, but that was a mistake. He had the strength of Samson. There wasn’t a man in that room who would voluntarily tangle with him, trained assassins included. Kevin wasn’t an assassin or a dirty dealer like Alexander or Maxton; quite the contrary. He was a knight to the bone, pious and noble.
Kevin was the group’s white knight.
“My lord?” he answered.
William’s gaze lingered on the powerful knight. “You will be going with them, as well,” he said. “Along with Sherry and Peter and Bric, I will need your eyes and ears on what is going on at Norwich. This means you may be forced to interact with your brother. Can you do this?”
Kevin’s expression didn’t change, but those who knew what William meant were all thinking the same thing – beneath Kevin’s professional facade was the fact that his older brother, Sean de Lara, had defected into the service of King John had built himself a frightening and brutal reputation as a knight known as Lord of the Shadows.
At least, that was what everyone thought. But those in The Marshal’s inner circle, including Kevin, knew the truth.
Sean was The Marshal’s greatest weapon.
It was no secret that Kevin was greatly disappointed in the path his talented brother had taken, choosing to damage the family’s reputation by taking on such a brutal task. It was something Kevin disagreed with wholeheartedly but, professional as he was, he never spoke a word of it. He would die before revealing what he knew about his brother, so the secret was safe.