Page 13 of The King's Man 4

“Another matter, today. Regarding your guest.”

Nicostratus’s gaze flickers worriedly to me, and back to his brother.

Quin continues, “I caught him destroying property carrying the royal seal.”

I straighten abruptly. That’s... a hefty accusation, if technically... accurate. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Silence,” Quin orders, and I shut up.

“I’m within the law to punish him with imprisonment.”

I make an objecting sound, and am silenced by Quin’s furious glare. He’s not messing about; he’s truly upset.

Nicostratus’s jaw twitches disapprovingly at his brother. He raises a hand to dismiss his staff and the brothers face off silently until they’ve all left. Then Nicostratus steps forward, lowering his voice. “This isn’t about destruction of the royal seal. What’s going on?”

“You didn’t tell him the truth. Then you gave him false hope.”

“I only want him happy—”

“How will he get that with lies? How will he overcome his grief when you feed into it, raising his hopes, only to have him crash harder?”

“That was never my intention.” Nicostratus looks from his brother to me, gaze softening. “I will take care of you, protect you. You never have to work again.”

Quin’s jaw flexes. “Nonsense. Cael, pack your things.”

Nicostratus laughs, shaking his head. “You can’t make him leave.”

“He attempted to destroy the royal seal.”

My gaze shoots between the brothers, my heart beating hard in my achy chest. “You’re being unreasonable, Quin.”

He ignores me.

Nicostratus lifts his bow. “How about this? We’ll compete. If you win, you can have your way and I won’t stop you. If I win, you forget the royal seal business and leave Amuletos with me.”

“You’ve won every time we’ve competed in archery.”

“Of course I’d choose a sport where I have an advantage.”

“If he’s that important, you’d have helped him more.”

“You can have an extra arrow,” Nicostratus says sharply, pulling another bow off a stand. “Sit anywhere you like.”

Quin takes the bow; he moves to a waist-height wall and perches himself on the ledge. “I don’t need the extra arrow.”

“Stubborn. As you wish. Same rules as always. Three arrows, three targets. No magic.”

“After you.”

Nicostratus stands tall under a cloud-darkening sky, his cloak fluttering in the wind. I’ve seen him practice with a bow many times, and never seen him miss the mark. His military skills, both magical and crude, are well known and envied. Quin, too, is highly skilled, but his leg is a constant weakness, and when it comes to wielding weapons, he has stood in his brother’s shadow.

Nicostratus nocks an arrow and pulls back the string with confidence. His arrow slices through the air and smacks the target in the reddened centre.

Quin’s turn. I’m reminded of the first time we met, when I’d thought I could tell so much about him. How arrogant I was. I knew nothing. I could go a lifetime and still not know him.

His arrow flies and lands beside his brother’s. An equally accurate shot.

Nicostratus seems unperturbed, possibly expecting as much; he sets his next arrow free. It thunks into the centre of the second target, a half-dozen yards farther away.

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