The Necromancer’s Light by Tavia Lark

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CHAPTER SIX

Arthur

As he puts together dinner, Arthur can’t help staring at the necromancer. While he understands what a great companion Duchess is, and how worthwhile and fulfilling the experience of petting her is, he can tell that’s not the only reason Shae is hanging out with her instead of sitting by the fire. Shae’s been extremely quiet since their conversation that morning, and he’s barely willing to look at Arthur. It’s clear Arthur’s question is bothering him.

It’s bothering Arthur, too. Ten years of necromancy, when Shae doesn’t look older than twenty or twenty-one. Even if he was twenty-five, the same as Arthur, that would mean he contracted with a patron demon at age fifteen.

Arthur can’t imagine what would drive such a young kid to dark magic like that. He has a feeling he’s not going to know for a while, if ever. Shae clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

That’s fine. Arthur’s a paladin, not a priest. His calling is to defend the faith, the innocent, and the random bystander with his blade and the Vara’s Radiance. He has neither the duty nor the talent to help with psychological troubles.

So, why can’t he stop thinking about it?

“Dinner’s ready,” he calls eventually, and only then does Shae leave Duchess to her own leisurely meal. Shae’s cheeks are faintly pink in the firelight. Maybe he’s embarrassed that he’s already started talking to the horse.

Which is probably the most endearing thing about him. He’s a weird, prickly bastard, but he likes Arthur’s horse, and that counts for more than it should.

Necromancer,Arthur reminds himself sternly. Not endearing. Evil, evil necromancer.

Shae remains quiet as they eat, and he continues looking down, sideways, into the woods, towards the river, everywhere but at Arthur. That gives Arthur the opportunity to continue staring at him, trying to figure out how old he is. Twenty-five is really unlikely, he eventually decides, but every number lower bothers him more and more. Dark circles show easily under Shae’s pale skin, and he’d probably look even younger if he got a good night’s sleep. Ate a bit better, smoothed out the sharp edges and hollow planes of his face.

After dinner, Arthur washes up and then walks a wide perimeter around their camp, hand on his pendant. He murmurs a prayer spell under his breath, calling on the Radiant for awareness and protection through the night. The answer comes not from beyond but from within his body, his Vara-contracted magic settling into a circle around the camp. If anyone touches the boundary, he’ll feel it.

Shae has set out their bedrolls when he returns to the fireside. “What was that I felt? A warding spell?” His face is pink again, and he isn’t meeting Arthur’s eyes.

“Easier than trying to keep watch with just the two of us,” Arthur says. “Though Duchess makes a fine sentry herself.” Then he catches up to the rest of the implications. “You could feel that?”

“Yes.” Shae still doesn’t meet Arthur’s eyes as he sits down at the end of the bedroll and starts unlacing his boots.

Arthur frowns, and an earlier concern returns to him. “Does it hurt when I cast near you?” he asks after a moment. He’s not sure how to avoid that if it does.

Shae’s fingers pause at his boots. “It doesn’t hurt.” Amusement threads through his voice. “Good night,” Shae says next, quickly, before Arthur can ask anything else, and crawls into his bedroll. He turns away from Arthur, so all that’s visible are narrow angles beneath the bedding and a mess of dark hair.

Arthur checks on Duchess one last time before smothering the fire in earth. The summer night is warm, and they don’t need to risk drawing attention. It’s so warm, in fact, that after taking off his boots, Arthur lays out on top of his bedroll instead of inside it. His head falls back on the thin pillow, and he stares up at the stars through the black lace of branches.

The night is quiet. Small creatures rustle through the underbrush, and insects sing. Duchess moves around every once in a while on her tether. The necromancer breathes next to him, slow and shallow. Arthur doesn’t think he’s asleep yet. They’re close enough that Arthur could stretch out his hand and touch him.

Arthur’s starting to feel like he’s never going to figure the necromancer out. He gets pissed off when Arthur grabs breakfast, but he almost laughs when Arthur asks if he’s hurt. He locks up and retreats when Arthur asks questions, but he lays out their bedrolls right next to each other. The contradictions shouldn’t be a surprise; necromancers are supposed to be weird. The surprising part is that Arthur wants to figure him out.

He lies awake for what feels like hours until Shae’s breath deepens, and the line of his body sinks slightly within the bedding. Only then does Arthur follow him into sleep.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t dream about Ronan at all.

***

The next morning, Shae looks remarkably well-rested. He still barely talks to Arthur, but the shadows beneath his eyes aren’t as dark, and he moves more quickly to help pack up camp. He smiles at Duchess, which is extremely dangerous for Arthur’s composure.

But Arthur has never shied away from danger. If Duchess is the key to unlocking the necromancer’s icy exterior, he’s happy to take advantage of that. For entirely practical reasons, not just because he’s greedy for more of Shae’s bewitching smiles.

They’ve been on the road for about twenty minutes before Arthur puts his entirely altruistic plan into motion. “Do you want to learn how to ride?”

Shae’s head whips around. “Right now?”

Arthur stops, and Duchess stops with him. She likes following him, and for the most part, he doesn’t even have to hold her lead when they’re walking on quiet roads. “Duchess can carry you and the packs together easy.” Shae’s such a light, slender thing. “I’m no teacher, and we don’t have enough time for anything advanced. But just knowing how to sit and stay on is a good skill to have.”

He thinks Shae might refuse at first. Shae certainly glances from the height of Duchess’s shoulders to the hard dirt road; it’s quite the distance.

Arthur adds, “If we need to make a quick getaway at any point, I’ll feel better knowing it’s not your first time on a horse.”

“I’d rather just kill anything that comes after us,” Shae mutters. “But fine. What do I do?”

Arthur unstraps his sword from the saddle and slings it over his back, then flips the reins over Duchess’s neck. She nudges at him curiously, but stays still. “All you’re going to do today is sit on her and get a feel for the movement. She’ll be following me the whole time.”

“All right.”

There are no convenient tree stumps in sight. “I’ll give you a leg up. If you need to mount up when I’m not around…” He judges Shae’s height again, then Duchess’s. “Find a rock or something and do your best. Here, grab the horn and the back of the saddle.”

Shae steps towards Duchess, which means towards Arthur, so they’re sharing the same space. Arthur makes sure Shae’s holding the saddle, briefly covering his thin hand with his own. They’re both wearing gloves, so there’s no true contact, but the touch sends shivers through Arthur’s veins. Shae stiffens a bit, but doesn’t pull away.

This is a great, practical idea,Arthur reminds himself. He bends and cups his hands together. “Now, put your knee in my hands and on the count of three, I’ll lift while you jump. Swing your other leg up and around as you go up.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Shae tells him, but he puts his knee in Arthur’s hands anyway.

“One, two, three—”

It’s not graceful, and Arthur’s very thankful for Duchess’s patience, but after a moment of scrambling, Shae is safely perched in the saddle. He clutches the horn with both hands, leaning too far forward, and his coat twists awkwardly around his left leg. His eyes are very wide, and Arthur can’t even pretend he doesn’t find it adorable.

“What now?” Shae asks.

“Now we get you balanced. Lean back a bit, here.”

He reaches without thinking and feels Shae’s taut stomach jump when he touches it. Pretending not to notice the flinch, he pulls Shae back into a more stable position. “Your legs go further back too, bent like this.” He adjusts Shae’s legs against Duchess’s sides. Untwisting the coat from around Shae’s thigh is definitely a practical measure, not an excuse to wrap his hands around lean muscle.

It’s been a long time since he’s let himself get this close to anyone. Nearly a year. He wonders how long it’s been for Shae.

The saddle was custom-crafted for him after he bought Duchess. He knows without checking that the stirrup leathers won’t adjust high enough for Shae’s feet to reach the irons. “Try not to randomly kick,” he continues. “But keep your legs firm on her sides. Hold the reins like this.”

Shae lets Arthur position his hands around the reins, thumbs up, leather slipping between the correct fingers. “I pull back to stop, right?”

“Right. She’ll mostly be following me, though, so don’t worry about that right now.”

Shae nods and moves the reins to one hand so he can gently pat Duchess’s shoulder. Then he carefully repositions his hands in the exact way Arthur showed him. “Okay. I think I’m ready to move.”

Arthur touches Shae’s leg one last time, even though the position is as good as it’s going to get, then takes hold of a rein. “Come on, girl.”

Duchess needs more of a tug than usual to get going, clearly aware of the novice on her back. She nudges Arthur’s shoulder before acquiescing and taking the slowest possible step forward.

Swearing, Shae loses all semblance of posture and hunches over to grab Duchess’s mane. “Stop laughing,” he hisses, and Arthur’s barely even chuckling but that sends him into a full laugh. Sure enough, his plan is working. The magic of horses is definitely the way to melt the necromancer’s icy heart.

They try moving forward again, and this time Shae keeps his balance better. They settle into an easy pace, and after a few minutes, Arthur’s able to devote most of his attention to the road around them instead of making sure Shae’s not about to slide off.

“Hey,” Shae says. Arthur looks up to see him leaning back in the saddle, looking out at the trees and the sky.

“Yeah?”

Now Shae’s looking at him, a hint of a smile lighting up his face. “Thank you.”

Warmth chases down Arthur’s spine, and he grins back.