I lift a brow. “Scout?”
Sitting on the edge of a rock, his ass more off the large stone than on, Quinn closes his eyes. Tilts his head. Listens. Then he reopens those black eyes and scans the surrounding trees. “Walter.”
“And he’s alone?” Dax’s surprise mirrors my own.
“He didn’t strike me as a fool,” I say. “Could be he’s not here to fight.”
A grunt rumbles out from deep within Quinn’s chest. “Then he must be suicidal.”
“But he gave us those two soldiers to kill. I don’t know.” Dax tosses his stick into the fire, causing the flames to snap and dance. “Something about the man… Doesn’t seem right.”
“He’s wandering,” Quinn tells us, one ear on us with the other on Sir Walter. “Probably walking in circles searching for us.”
I nod at the fire. “Toss more wood on the flames and make it easier for him to find us.”
Quinn lifts a brow. “Fuck that. Let him earn it.”
Sir Walter obviously knows this forest well because he doesn’t keep us waiting long. When he approaches our camp, the mad son of a bitch doesn’t even have his sword palmed. It’s nestled in its sheath, and his hands swing at his slides as if I don’t have an arrow aimed at his heart, and Quinn isn’t primed to tear out his throat.
“I admire his iron balls.” I keep my eye trained on my target when I issue that praise.
“If you listen hard enough, you may hear them clank in his breeches.” Dax twirls his sword in a wide arc, the showoff. “Shame we have to kill him.”
“The sound you hear is the rocks banging around in your head.” Then to our audacious visitor, “Got lost on your way to suck John’s cock?”
Sir Walter ignores the barb and says, “If I was here for a fight, do you think I’d let you see me coming?”
Quinn grunts out a genuine laugh as he steps from the shadows. “Do you think I didn’t track you a mile away?” He strolls right up to the brawny Captain of the Guard and presses his index and middle fingers to the front of the fur-lined brown cloak. “You have the stealth of a toddler.”
Sir Walter rolls his eyes and smooths a hand down the front of his tunic as if brushing off Quinn’s touch. “Unless you want to get us all killed and the princess tossed into the dungeon, I suggest you listen to what I have to say.”
At the mention of Rapunzel, I lower my bow. “Speak.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Dax sheath his sword. I replace the arrow in the quiver on my back as Dax says to him, “Looks like we aren’t quite the barbarians. We’re willing to be reasonable men.”
“It’s a miracle,” Sir Walter snaps, and I want to applaud his sarcasm. To me, he says, “Rumor has it you’re as good a shot as your father.”
“Better,” I admit, and to some, it might sound like boasting, but my father made sure I surpassed him in skill. He’d be proud that he’d succeeded in his task.
“Good to know,” Sir Walter says with a meaningful nod. “May God bless us that we never need your aim, but I’m grateful to have it in our arsenal.” Before I can remark, he adds, “Let’s get to why I’m here. John is dying. Only his physician, Queen Eleanor, and by now, the princess knows this. John is desperate and will do whatever is necessary to stay alive and keep the crown on his head.”
Quinn seizes Sir Walter by the throat and lifts him high enough that his toes scrape the ground. “Why should we believe you?”
“Because the queen sent me here herself,” he grinds out.
“You’re fucking lying,” Quinn hisses.
“It’s true.” He fights to take his next breath, but Quinn is relentless. “I’m here to help you breach Newkirk.”
“Give us a reason to trust you.”
Dax taps Quinn on the shoulder. “Quinn? Put the man down and let him breathe.”
Growling, Quinn releases Sir Walter with a shove. Sir Walter doubles over, hands on his thighs, gasping. Only once he’s dragged in enough air does he straighten and glare at Quinn. “I’ll allow that because you’re the queen’s brother. But neverput your fucking hands on me again.” He gulps in one more deep breath. “Your sister shared a story with me in the event you wouldn’t believe me.” His smirk is positively priceless. “When you were nine, you kissed a girl named Claire in the stable. Eleanor found you after, and—”
“Enough!” Quinn takes a menacing step forward. To his credit, Walter doesn’t flinch. “You won’t say more if you know what’s good for you.”
“So what if you kissed a girl behind a stable? I kissed a girl while hiding from her father in a pigsty,” Dax confesses with a shrug.
