Arthur considers pulling out the ring in an attempt to cheer him up, but decides to leave it for now. It’s probably a bad time to give Shae a gift if he doesn’t want it thrown back in his face.
***
Arthur hoped Shae’s mood would improve after they left Hannick and its staring inhabitants, but that hope proves futile as the day wears on. Shae continues avoiding eye contact and conversation, just as deliberately as the time Arthur dared ask his age.
A few days ago, Arthur would have chalked it up to Shae’s unreasonable prickly temperament. Now, though, he’s starting to figure out that Shae’s prickliness is more a defense mechanism than anything else. The necromancer does everything for a reason, even if Arthur might not understand what that reason is.
So, when they stop to water Duchess at a sandy bank of the Rising Run, Arthur asks straight-out, “Are you pissed off at me?”
Predictably, Shae responds by turning his head away, looking out over the sunlit waters. “No.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me all day?”
Shae fiddles with one of his rings again. “I thought you could probably use some space, after, well. I was really clingy last night, and I know that can be annoying.”
Arthur frowns. “Have people told you that in the past?”
“Not in so many words, but I’m not an idiot.”
Arthur’s not an idiot either, and he recognizes the possessiveness surging up in him. He hates the idea of Shae cuddling up to past unknown swords for hire. But he hates the idea of Shae being shoved aside even more.
He reaches out and touches Shae’s chin, and he barely has to press his fingers to turn Shae towards him, like a flower turning towards the sun. “I don’t mind the clingy thing,” Arthur says, because all right, maybe he is an idiot. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”
“You say that now,” Shae says darkly, but he blushes as he says it, and Arthur’s heart flips in his chest.
?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shae
They run across the body three mornings later. Duchess notices it first; her ears prick suddenly forward, and her neck arches. Arthur places a hand on her shoulder and draws her to a halt. “I don’t sense anything,” he says quietly. “Do you?”
“No.” Shae’s rings are no colder than usual on his fingers. Then he sees it, a depression in the foliage on the roadside ahead, and a flash of green cloth. He points. “Wait, there’s something there.”
Arthur passes Duchess’s reins to him wordlessly, draws his sword, and stalks forward. Shae holds the reins tightly, hoping Duchess can’t tell how unnerved he is. He likes her a lot, but she’s still gigantic, and he doesn’t think he can keep hold of her if she panics.
A few moments later, Arthur swears and sheathes his sword. “He’s dead,” he calls over to Shae.
Shae swears too and leads Duchess over.
For all his association with the dead over the past ten years, he only rarely encounters therecentlydead. He’s used to skeletons, dried-out corpses, shells that only echo the people they once held. He’s not used to this: a man slumped sideways in the underbrush, utterly motionless. Hardly even a smell fouling the fresh country air. If they move him, his limbs will be stiff. There will be discoloration. But until they disturb him, he could just be asleep.
Shae’s vision swims. For a second, he sees his father’s body, slumped in their little front yard. Arms up, drenched in blood. He blinks, and he’s back in the present. There’s no blood on this body. No sign of any injury at all.
Arthur crouches and turns the dead man onto his back. The body’s tall, middle-aged, with a heavy beard. His eyes are still open. “He was a hunter, judging by his clothes,” Arthur says. “He didn’t even draw his knife.”
“I don’t think he just had a heart attack,” Shae says.
“Neither do I.” Arthur stands up, grimacing. He gestures down the road. “That must be his pack on the ground. He dropped it and ran—but what was he running from? A bandit would have taken the pack. An animal would have taken him. Something isn’t right.”
Something isn’t right. Shae can see that clearly. “I could ask him what happened.”
Arthur whips around. “What do you mean by that?”
Shae bites his lip. “I can reanimate him for a minute and ask how he died.”
“Absolutely not.” Arthur moves closer, standing between him and the body. “I told you I’d help with anything not counter to my oath, but raising the dead is a few fucking miles across the line.”
