Henri knew the King’s Envoy, he was a legend among the royal heads of Europe. Outside of the families, only the closest aides knew who he was. They said that no one could hide from him, but that he could hide from all.
He knew that his own skills were good, but they didn’t match the Envoy’s. The only advantage that he had was that he knew what it was like to be a fugitive. Henri knew that hiding in plain sight wasn’t only a ploy, it was an act of desperation. Anyone who had enough time to get away, would do so quickly.
This is why that Henri took another approach when he arrived in Paris. He went, not to the out of the way places, but to the busiest place in Paris. At this time it was the market. It was there he found two very unusual looking Frenchmen. Unusual in the sense that they were doing everything they could to act normal. Which meant it was not what they were doing that was awkward, but how they were doing it.
The movements were at times slow and precise, at others rushed, as if they had just given themselves away. Henri would have normally waited until dark to approach them, but he couldn’t resist the Envoy reaching them first.
“Monsieur, if you and your friend wish to live, I suggest you follow me. The Princess Royal of France is much more accommodating than her cousin the English King. This is not to mention that His Majesty’s Envoy is the best swordsman in either country.”
The two followed him to a small cart pulled by a, very plain looking, gray horse. Once outside the city, the horse revealed a speed that was masked by his appearance. “Where are we going?” Giuseppe asked. Henri looked at him, “To freedom, which in this case is in Champagne.”