Chapter 6: Hostile Beginnings

He could not have possibly managed to sound more mocking and condescending. Sorin gritted his teeth until he had control of his temper. "So you do not use black magic, though all I have ever heard is that necromancers are master of that art. What business have you at the castle, and why in Her name should I let you anywhere near it?"

"Perhaps you should learn not to trust all that you hear, My Lord High Paladin," he replied. "I am a necromancer. My business is death. If She is pointing me to the royal castle, I can only surmise that a ghost is there which must be banished, as I already told you. Should the angry spirit remain, its presence will poison the castle and all the inhabitants—including you, My Lord High Paladin."

Sorin vowed he had known demons less irritating. "Possess you any manners, necromancer? Or are you this rude and difficult with all whom you encounter?"

"I have manners aplenty," the necromancer retorted. "But I only bother to employ them when I feel the recipient worthy."

Sorin turned away and whistled again for his horse, which had wandered away to find something more interesting. "Shall we to the castle, then?" And what a fine time he was going to have, explaining that a necromancer had been summoned—and by the Goddess, or so he claimed. After seeing that flash of violet in his eyes, Sorin could not doubt the man, however much he wished.

"I am not riding that infernal beast," the necromancer said, scowling at Sorin's horse. "I will walk and reach the castle in due course. I hardly need your escort."

Sorin whipped around to face him and snapped, "Must you be so difficult about everything, necromancer? I apologize again for the hill; it was not my intent to send us tumbling down it. I mean you no harm. I saw a stranger in a place where none but I ever come."

"None but you?" the man repeated with a laugh. "These paths are tread by necromancers frequently, My Lord High Paladin. The Black Forest is favored by those of us who have nothing to fear from the dark."

"A demon would feed upon and kill you as gladly as it would anyone else," Sorin said quietly.

"True," the necromancer replied, "but the rest of you kill us just as readily. Death is something I face every day, one way or another. If I feared death, My Lord High Paladin, I would not be a necromancer. Do go away and leave me in peace; I will see you again all too soon at the castle."

He turned away, but Sorin was on him in an instant. He grabbed the necromancer up and threw him over his horse before mounting behind him and urging his horse forward. The necromancer thrashed, bellowing, "Get me off this Goddess forsaken beast—" He cried out in panic when he nearly fell, causing Sorin to halt his horse and drag him upright, wrestling him into a seated position before wrapping one arm firmly about the necromancer's waist.

"Hold still!"

"Unhand me!" The necromancer's eyes blazed with fury.

"I swear I have meant you no harm this night, necromancer. I promise that I will see you are well-treated when we reach the castle, but they will not let you in without my approval and all will go more smoothly if you arrive with me." Slowly he let his hand fall away, absently wondering why the man's skin was so cold. As much moving about as they had been doing, the man should not be so cold. "Speak, but do not further vex me."

"What would you have me say, My Lord High Paladin?"

Sorin wanted very badly to shake him. Instead, he urged his horse into motion, tightening the arm he'd slipped around the necromancer's waist when he felt the man tense. "You may attempt to reassure me that I am not making a grave mistake in taking you home. Thus far, necromancer, you've given me little reason to trust you."

"That goes both ways," the necromancer replied. "What more can I say, when I have already told you twice now that She has guided me here. Why, she has not said. I only realized today that I was bound for the royal castle. Never have I been sent there. It is not a place we typically go, simply because we would not be well-received and problems are usually greater elsewhere. If I have been pointed to the royal castle, it can only be for a truly dire matter. Tell me, My Lord High Paladin, has anyone of importance died of late?"

Sorin stiffened, and he swore loudly and colorfully as he realized what he should have realized much, much sooner. "Alfrey. You're here to help me solve the riddle of Alfrey's death. The High Priest said someone would come, someone who made him think of darkness. I did not think that meant someone who practiced blac—Stop that!" he said when an elbow was driven into his gut again.

"I do not practice black magic," the necromancer hissed. "Say or imply it again and I swear, High Paladin, the Goddess herself will not keep me from doing you serious injury."

"What you give, you will receive, I vow it, necromancer."

The necromancer did not reply.

Sorin subsided into silence, not certain what else there was to say. He signaled his horse to begin moving again, tightening his arm in reassurance when he felt the necromancer stiffen. "I won't let you fall, necromancer."

"I have a name, you know," the necromancer snapped. "Not that you would care, I'm sure."

Restraining an urge to throttle him, Sorin instead only said, "I did not think you would give it, if I asked. You've been nothing but rude and hostile since encountering me, necromancer."

They both fell silent then, tense and displeased, and likely the necromancer was as tired and hungry as he. It did not help that throughout it all the Goddess had only given an impression of extreme amusement, as though She watched children play.