“William de Wendenal. We met once.” Truth be told, William could hardly remember anything more than a name. He had been grieving for his brothers then, and de Lacy had been only one of several judiciars involved in his family’s compensation.

A justice disinterested in justice, his father had complained.

De Lacy’s eyes lit up, seeming to recall a different version of the same story. “Ah yes, I thought so. Lord Beneger’s son. You’ve … grown, haven’t you?”

William had no interest in small talk, no luxury of getting comfortable. Robin was still in danger, and time continued its rude march.

The captain fidgeted. “He demanded an audience, Baron. I refused him due to the late hour—”

“Yes, thank you, Gisbourne, your irritation has not gone unnoted. Go on now. I’m sure you have other people to harass.”

Gisbourne bristled for a moment, then nodded obediently. His men lowered William’s weapons and saddlebag to the ground, drawing a bit of attention in trying to find an available space for them.

“I’ll be close,” Gisbourne promised as he shut the door behind them.

“I’d like to say he means well,” de Lacy stared through the door’s thick planks, “but I’m a poor liar.”

The Sheriff seemed instantly more at ease with the door closed, alone but for the two of them. William took the opportunity to push. “Baron, I come with an urgent matter from King Richard himself.”

“How is your father?” De Lacy leaned over the desk to clasp both hands on William’s shoulders, looking deeply into his face.

The question caught him off guard, because he didn’t know. Writing casual letters simply wasn’t a part of their relationship. “Well, when last I heard,” he said. “Which was some time ago.”

“Good. Good.” Roger fingered a decanter on the table, and began pouring two glasses. “Sit, drink some wine. How long will you stay? Will you need lodgings?”

“I … may.” He fought to hide his agitation. “This is somewhat urgent, Baron.”

“Unless you mean to make love to me,” the Baron offered, “then I doubt it. I have been alive significantly longer than you, William, and I have never known anything else to qualify as urgent after dinner.” He paused, then added, “Except urination. That’s a new one. Strange thing, the human body, it forgets how to do the simplest tasks as it ages.”

“Yes.” William blinked. “Baron.”

“Drink.”