The Heirs of Locksley (The Robin Hood Stories 2)

Praise be to God, this might actually work. Or he would hang for it. Trying to strike a balance between confidence and caution, he entered King Henry’s chamber.

The room was small but richly furnished and warm, with a blazing hearth and many candles, tapestries on the wall and seats with cushions. The windows were high and narrow, and another door likely led to the bedchamber. Henry sat in this front room, next to a table which held a platter with a mostly eaten meal and a jug of wine. He was dressed simply, compared to how he’d been over the last several days. A wool tunic with fine trim over a linen shift, a fur-lined coat. No crown or circlet on his head. A serving boy was there tending the fire, and Henry said to him, “You may go.”

The boy bowed and fled out the door John had just entered. The king studied him, and John prepared to apologize profusely.

“Lord John,” Henry said evenly.

“Your Grace,” he said, bowing as formally and graciously as he knew how. Which he feared was not very. The king remained silent. “Sire—you might need to have a word with your guards. That was a lot easier than it should have been.”

“What was a lot easier?”

“Um. Getting in here. I only wanted to see if I could, just to have a word with you. I must have looked really harmless, which is sort of discouraging if I think about it—”

“Lord John, why are you here?” The boy sounded ancient and careworn. John ought to apologize and leave. For all he knew, the king had given the guard instructions to return with half the army and all the knights and bishops besides . . .

Instead, John smiled slyly and said, “Mischief.”

Henry’s frown remained, but only for a moment. Then his eyes lit. “Oh? What sort of mischief?”

“There is a very fine orchard behind the cloister gardens. The trees there may not be the best for climbing. But they are climbable.”

Henry stared. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Even better.”

Gaze narrowed, he sat back, obviously thinking. “So, you came here, entered my chamber under false pretenses, and are proposing we sneak out without guards or attendants or anything, just so we can climb trees in the orchard in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, exactly.” The worst would have been if Henry had been baffled and totally unwilling, and John would have had to creep away in shame.

“I’m not allowed to go out without at least a guard. Or at all, after dark.”

“If I find us a way to sneak out of here, can you promise me I won’t hang for it if we’re caught?”

“If you promise me you weren’t sent by the King of France to kidnap me for ransom.”

“My liege, no, of course not—Wait, have the French actually tried that?”

“There have been spies,” he said darkly.

John sympathized deeply. No wonder Henry was so serious. “I promise you I’m not a spy. I only thought it was awful that you’d never climbed a tree.”

Henry stood and smoothed out his tunic in a practiced gesture. “Well then, Lord John. I would like to climb a tree.”

“Very good, sire.” He made a quick circuit of the chamber. The windows here were too high and narrow. The next room, which was even smaller, didn’t have windows at all, only a brazier and a sleeping box with mussed-up blankets. But there was a second door, small and cupboard-like. An escape route.

Henry watched him studying the room’s layout. “Perhaps we could summon the serving boy, and we could trade clothes and I walk out—”

“What sort of punishment would he receive, if he were discovered?” John asked.

Henry said, “Whipped and turned out.”

“Then no, we must risk only ourselves,” John said. “Where does this door go?”

“To the next hall.”

It was the sort of door to let a mistress come and go unseen, but John didn’t mention that. “You ever try sneaking out?”