Page 70 of The King's Man 4

My laughter doubles, but it’s empty, pained. I steer the crusader until he faces me, and point. “Cael. Megaera.” I gesture to him, my brow raised expectantly.

His mouth presses into a grim line. “Lykos. Like the river. The boy’s name is Zenon.”

“A right trio we are, Lykos.”

Megaera grabs a handful of our cloaks and yanks us down. “Stay low.”

Crouched in dense foliage, we inhale the salty air, peering through the bushes toward the rugged coastline. The view is a wash of navy and black, the silhouettes of ships barely visible under the clouded sky. Sails unfurl as vessels glide toward a row of anchored ships in the bay.

Officially, the water is neutral territory—a trader’s path between kingdoms. But not everyone stepping onto Lumin soil is here for business.

Danger lurks in every shadow.

One misstep . . .

I recall the escaped slaves I’ve treated—backs crisscrossed with scars, their movements impaired by wounds left untreated for so long that only unaffordable spells could heal them. Even for the few who received those spells, they never forgot the agonising pain of years under barbed whips. Years later, they still flinched at any sudden movement.

I swallow hard, focusing on the image of River in my mind. His head on my shoulder in the cold cell.Are we going to die?

Faint footsteps clomp over wood, followed by a flurry of shadowy movement on the decks. Torches flare to life as golden-haired Skeldars march toward the hills, axes and shields strapped to their backs.

“That’s the boat,” Lykos says, his voice taut. “This is our chance.”

I’m on my feet before he finishes.

You won’t die this time.

Under the cover of the moonless night, we slip through shadows and sneak aboard after a leather-armoured patrol completes a round on the starboard side. The subtle sway of the boat mirrors the anxious churn in my stomach. I flank Lykos, who knows the ship’s layout and leads the way.

A gull squawks in the distance, and we curl behind a rowboat, waiting out the patrol as it slouches by again. Megaera, to my right, curls a ball of magic in her hand, ready to strike. But if we’re caught here, getting into the ship’s guts to save Zenon will become exponentially harder. We don’t know how many more Skeldars are on board.

I grip her arm and quietly shake my head. Her magic dims, and we hold our breath as the patrol nears... and pauses.

“Frostir’s breath! What are you doing?”

For a heart-stopping moment, I think he’s spotted us. But just as my stomach drops, he clicks his heels and moves on.

We exhale as one, then push against the briny deck, stepping over coiled rope as we sneak toward the main hatch. A set of steep, narrow stairs leads into the ship’s belly. As we descend, my hand slips against the worn wooden wall, and a sudden lurch of the ship sends me toppling forward—

I’m caught by Lykos’s broad back; he holds both our weights, preventing a noisy tumble down the stairs. Below, a faint lantern flickers. I peel myself off Lykos, and we wait for the light to fade before slipping into the narrow halls.

Lykos motions us down a skinny corridor, and when he rams himself against the wall, Megaera and I do too. “Three guards,” he whispers.

“No harming,” I say.

“One each.”

We melt into the brig, lined with nearly empty cells. The three guards are huddled around a central table. Megaera is a burst of light as she knocks one of them out. Lykos whacks another with his spear. I target the third, jabbing his acupoints to paralyse him.

“Three for one prisoner?” I murmur.

“They’re not really guarding,” Megaera says, glancing at the pile of coins on the table.

“Found him,” Lykos calls. “Grab the key.”

The paralysed guard glares at me as I remove the key from his belt and toss it to Megaera, who strides to the cell.

Lykos drops his spear and hurries inside. “He’s unconscious! Megaera, grab his feet.” He starts pulling the boy out.

---