Page 83 of The King's Man 2

My step towards Nicostratus stutters; Veronica grabs my arm. “You’re growling.”

“This black knight isn’t anywhere near as intimidating as he thinks he is.”

“He’s been the bane of my drakopagon existence for years.” She pulls her mask down over her scowl.

“Let’s teach him a lesson.”

We jump astride our saddled horses and ride out; Nicostratus races around the arena, a graceful show that mesmerises the crowd. I jerk my finger at the black knight in the centre of the field, bouncing the game ball on end of his drakopala, twisting the mallet at each turn. “Look at him, showing off.”

“Not to everyone. More for the aklo drooling over him.”

I suck in a breath. Even Veronica sees it.

This... this is a problem. Not the core values of a good king. As the nurturer Skriniaris Evander said I need to be, I’m responsible for nipping this in the bud.

I urge my horse swiftly across the grass and catch the ball in the air on the end of my drakopala, balancing it as I ease to a stop between aklo and knight. “A ridiculous game,” I say.

“Ridiculous?”

Like that spelled voice of yours.“Hmm.” I bounce the ball, every bit as in control as the black knight had been. “Horses and drakopalas and no magic.”

I manoeuvre the ball away from Aklo’s attempt to steal it.

“Most people don’t have magic. This is a gameanyonecan play.” Aklo snickers, eying me. “Just look atyou.”

The black knight delivers Aklo a sharp look, but my laughter is sharper. “In what reality do ‘most people’ own horses?”

Aklo hisses. “The king is in the stands. You don’t want him hearing you talk like that about the official game of the kingdom.”

“He can hear anything I have to say. I hope he also listens.” I hit the ball in a wide arc over Aklo, forcing him to race away to retrieve it.

I turn my face to dark eyes framed with black. “A ridiculous game,” I say, and smirk when he grimaces. “But I’m finding some fun in it today.”

The black knight shifts his horse until our legs touch for a passing second. And then he halts. Looks ahead at the stands. “You know.”

My silence is his answer.

“Are we ready to begin?”

I pull at my reins, moving around Nicostratus’s other side so we’re face to face, and beam at him.

His hardened gaze moves from the black knight and back to me with a smile. “I planned to give you this later, but now is better.” He pulls a pair of golden feathers from his belt and hands one over. “I made these. One for me. One for my Amuletos.”

The feather is a smaller version of the ones we made wishes to in the queen’s courtyard. The ones I wanted to keep. I clutch it tightly. “I love it.”

Nicostratus smiles; his gaze flashes to the black knight and then sideways to Veronica trotting over.

“Shall we?”

We play a competitive first half—Veronica and I team up to score two, with Quin missing his chance at the third by mere inches. Our attempts at the fourth and fifth are keenly batted away by the giant, giving the black knight an opportunity to score, and Aklo another.

The crowd’s cheers turn into roars as the black knight darts forward with precise, flawless movements. The weight of every gaze around the field must be on this mesmerising display of skill. It’s as if the pitch belongs to him. Even in disguise, his importance seeps from him.

We’re close to evening up the score when the whistle blows: a red flag for Nicostratus for swinging his drakopala into an opponent’s horse. I know it’s an easy mistake to make in this game, but our chances of winning have left the field with him, and my spirits deflate.

“That ugly clasp you wagered?” Aklo purrs as he passes me and tugs his metal-studded belt. “It’ll join the trinkets of the men I’ve killed.”

Thisguy, Quin?

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