“Happy to help,” the man slurs. His eyes rake down Shae’s body again, and he grabs him none too gently by the elbow. “How about I show you how to get there?”
Bile rises in Shae’s throat. He glances around, but nobody is looking at them. He doubts any passerby would care even if they noticed. “That won’t be necessary.”
The man smiles, and his grip tightens. “It’s no trouble for me.”
Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.Shae forces himself to smile, knowing the expression doesn’t reach his eyes, and touches the silver feather pendant hanging from his right earlobe. He starts muttering under his breath, the Lyrisenian language taking on the cadence of an incantation.
The man swears and backs away as if burned. “Corpse fucker,” he snarls, spitting at Shae’s feet. “Get the fuck out of here.” He stumbles away, still swearing, and disappears into an alleyway.
Shae takes a moment to still his racing heart. He’s almost grateful nobody’s looking at him, so they can’t see him sagging in relief. The incantation was just a simple prayer for good luck—thankfully enough to scare the lecher away without resorting to anything drastic.
Drasticis a sure way to get kicked out of town.
The evening sky is pink and gold above him as he sets off to find the Moon’s Barrel.
?
CHAPTER TWO
Arthur
“Thank you, thank you.” The tavernkeep shakes one of Arthur’s hands with both of hers. “Your generosity is incredible. How long are you staying? You’ll have a room here at the Moon’s Barrel, free of charge, as long as you need.”
“Please, Marion.” Arthur Davorin grins and lays his other hand on top of hers. He does his best to keep his voice warm and friendly, even though the routine platitudes feel like splinters in his throat. “I’m only doing my duty as a servant of Vara. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town, but I’ll pay for my room just like any traveler.”
The fervor in Marion’s eyes doesn’t dim any, but she doesn’t press the question. “If you insist, but I won’t let you pay for dinner. Go sit—my girl will be out with ale and bread in a moment.”
“Well, I won’t refuse that. I’ll be right back after I see my horse is settling in.” Still smiling, he extricates himself from the grateful handshake with as much finesse as he can muster. “Light guide you.”
He draws the usual amount of attention as he exits, and has to stop to convey the usual number of blessings in greeting. Andell hasn’t seen a paladin of the Radiant Order in a while, apparently. The city’s main church worships Mother Sephine, whose acolytes give blessings much more sparingly. Marion was certainly eager enough for a purification spell on her threshold.
“I’ve heard talk there’s anecromancerin town,” she had faux-whispered to him, so the entire tavern could hear the gossip. “Gods only know what unsavory business he’s bringing to Andell. I won’t have any corpses traipsing into my inn!”
Arthur prayed over her threshold to make her happy more than anything else. Most necromancers are no more dangerous than an uncontracted hedgewitch—though, no less dangerous either—but he understands Marion’s trepidation. Like all higher magics, necromancy isn’t something you’re born with, it’s something you choose. Joining a divine order to contract with a god’s magic is one thing. Contracting with a demon is something entirely different, and there are few good reasons to learn to raise the dead.
When he makes his way out to the tavern’s stable, he finds Duchess in the largest stall, making friends with a stablehand. The young man has clearly forgotten the muckrake leaning against the wall in favor of stroking the chestnut warhorse’s silky nose. “Sorry, gorgeous, you cleaned me out,” he’s murmuring when Arthur gets there. “I’ll bring more carrots in the morning.”
“Please, my lady’s spoiled enough already,” Arthur says with a laugh, walking up. “I came out to see how she was doing, but I see I have nothing to worry about.”
The stablehand jumps, then grins. After an appreciative once-over of Arthur’s height and breadth, he strokes Duchess’s nose one more time. “I assure you, sir, she’ll be well taken care of here. You’re a good man for checking in on her, though.” He steps back and picks up the muckrake. He’s good-looking, Arthur notes. Strong shoulders and an easy smile. Freckles that stand out even as the evening deepens. The sort of friendly smile and work-callused hands Arthur wouldn’t mind spending an evening with.
A year ago, maybe. Before everything. Before Ronan. But he’s not in the mood for distractions now.
He ruffles Duchess’s forelock. “She’s spent the past five years taking care of me. I’m only returning the favor.”
Her previous source of carrots clearly moving on, Duchess’s ears flick expectantly towards Arthur. He laughs and rummages through his belt pouch for a treat. She delicately lips it from the palm of his hand.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your audience with Her Majesty,” the stablehand says with a laugh. “I have another hour left of work. The name’s Wyatt, by the way.”
The way he smiles is an invitation, clear as daylight.
“I’m Arthur,” he says. “You have a good night, Wyatt.” His answer is polite, but just as clear. Wyatt’s smile turns a little wistful before he leaves for the back of the barn. When he’s out of earshot, Arthur sighs and leans his forehead against Duchess’s muscular neck.
He never thought playing the paladin would be so hard, when that was all he ever dreamed of. He joined the order seven years ago, at age eighteen—the minute he was old enough to get in. Two years after that, he finished training and earned his pendant, and he was ready to save the world and bring glory to Radiant Vara, wherever the light called him. And he’d done that. He’d helped people. He was good at his calling.
Then he threw it all away for an easy smile and a knife in his back.
He paid the price for carelessness, not treason. Instead of a prison sentence, he has a year of exile from all Varan churches, before he returns for his final trial. He might have preferred prison instead of a year of wandering the countryside, all on his own, taking any righteous job offered to him. It’s hard to bless farms and taverns and village babes when he feels farther from Vara’s Radiance than he’s ever been.
