Page 8 of The King's Man 4

My nape prickles as he watches me race off down the hill. When I round out of sight, I sag and choke on a hiccuppy feeling rising from my belly.

Somehow, I force my feet forward and claw my way to the last apothecary on my list.

Maybe, just maybe . . .

The visit is short.

The snick of the door closing behind me is deafening.

I throw up in nearby shrubbery, roll onto the grass and stare vacantly at the greying skies. Rain splashes on my face, then the sky opens and it pours. I feel like I’m sinking into the soggy ground, fists at my sides, chest hollow. I close my eyes. I want to stay here, let rain wear me away...

I roll onto my side, splay my fingers in the mud and struggle to push myself up. I stumble back to Nicostratus’s, drenched and dirty. I ask an aklo to take me to my rooms by a route where I won’t be seen, and two aklas help prepare me a bath. When I undress, I hesitate at the clasp of my cloak. I rip it off and stuff it in with my gloves and Grandfather’s books.

Later, I drag myself to dinner; manage to keep my voice even. “Your brother will ensure your innocence is proven.”

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder; I drag my eyes off my plate and scrimmage up a smile.“I’m just tired.”

He smiles. “Go. Get some rest.”

I sleep early, wake late, try sleeping again. I dream of Nicostratus’s attack by the canal, my useless hands that could only hit acupoints... Those attackers had wanted to kill the prince, they’d—

I snap upright and throw my heavy legs out of bed. I skip breakfast, knot my cloak at my shoulder, and force myself to the constabulary.

I try to approach Constable Michealios, but he’s busy and orders me away.

Someone grabs my wrist and I’m whirled around to Quin in his well-fitted uniform, eyes piercingly observant under his hat. His jaw twitches and he tows me to where, yesterday, the bodies had rested. He faces me, gaze dropping to my naked hand before rising to the knot at my throat. His expression pinches. “Be as angry with me as you like, but in regards to this case, talk tomefirst.”

It’s true—seeing him has me feeling a sharp strike of gravity. Part of me wants to scream and lash out. Another part wishes I’d worn the gloves and the clasp, because the touch of his disappointed gaze at those points somehow lingers on my skin.

I swallow with a tight nod. He’s right. My personal feelings shouldn’t interfere with this. “I don’t know how relevant it is, but something feels off.”

“Explain.”

“When your brother was attacked at the canal, there were four assailants. Yet there were only three bodies... if we could find the fourth...”

We head to the outpost again. The commander is too busy to see us; there was an outbreak of food poisoning amongst the redcloaks last night. A deputy listens to our request. “Can you perhaps lead us to the friends of the deceased for questioning?”

“They didn’t have so many friends, those four. They transferred only a few months ago. Kept to themselves. Never got the best feeling about them.”

“Four?” I ask. “Only three died.”

The deputy grimaces. “The other one... Paxos, I think his name is, he abandoned his post.”

“When?”

“Don’t know. Only that he wasn’t there when we discovered his friends’ bodies.”

Vital information. Why was it not passed on? “Are your men looking for him?”

“Commander doesn’t want anyone taken from their duties.”

Quin and I spare a look at one another.

“Did this Paxos leave anything behind?” I ask.

“Everything. I guess that’s how he thought he could get away without it being noticed.”

He leads us to the barracks the four slept in, and Quin and I gather all their belongings to take back to the constabulary. We thank the deputy for his help and he sends us off through the gate, but before it shuts, a redcloak slips out and chases us a few steps.

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