Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,16
said I could have dick bread Fridays!” She turned to Gretchen and declared, “I like him. And Gunther hates him, which makes me like him even more. We should feed him.”
Benji liked the sound of that, but he didn’t want to appear too desperate because he was worried Gretchen would mock him, so he shrugged in a way he hoped said whatever and not Wheeee! Baked goods!
Gretchen kissed Hannah’s temple softly and said in a hopeful tone, “Please tell me you have gingerbread?”
Benji’s ears pricked up at that and he gave up all pretence. “Did someone say gingerbread?”
Hannah smirked and said, “If Gretchen puts me down, I’ll show you what’s in my basket.”
Gretchen set her down and beckoned Benji over. “Come on over, cutie. Hannah always makes too much, and there’s always gingerbread. Plenty to feed a skinny little murder puppy like you.”
“Elves aren't skinny. We’re lithe!” he protested, but he still scurried over to see what Hannah had brought. He didn’t think he’d ever been this excited for something that wasn’t sex or revolution.
Hannah grinned and pulled the cloth off the top of the basket. Lying there nestled in the folds of red and white checked gingham was a display of baked goods that made Benji’s mouth water. Cinnamon scrolls, apple turnovers, some sort of savoury pastry that he really hoped was vegetarian, and most importantly, gingerbread! Benji tried not to drown in his own saliva as Hannah passed him a cute little gingerbread cow. It even had a cowbell made out of icing.
“I love gingerbread,” he said as he shoved the cow in his mouth. “I hate everything about this place except for gingerbread.” He tilted his head. “And, I guess, you two. One of you gives me knives, and the other one gives me gingerbread. If you weren’t married, I’d consider it.”
Gretchen snorted. “What makes you think we would, pretty boy?”
“I’m a catch,” Benji said.
“I’d throw him back,” Hannah whispered loudly. “He has ears like a bat.”
“I heard that.”
Hannah waggled her eyebrows at him. “You were supposed to.”
And maybe it was the gingerbread talking, but Benji didn’t even feel a little bit murderous about that. He grinned, patted his stomach, and reached into the basket for more free food. Maybe Tournel wouldn’t be so awful now that he had a new knife, and gingerbread, and humans to hang around who weren’t completely stupid. Maybe everything would work out just fine after all.
“This is awful,” Calarian said, his forehead pinched into a serious expression. “This is not working out fine at all.” He gazed moodily out the bay window of his rooms, as if glaring at the alps would somehow make his problems disappear.
Benji sprawled back in his chair and shrugged lazily, a shower of gingerbread crumbs falling from him as he did so. “He’s your duke, and it’s your quest, so it’s your problem.”
He bit the head off another gingerbread cow. Hannah had made him an entire batch, and he wasn’t planning on sharing any of it. Let Calarian ask Lars for gingerbread, if he liked him so much.
Calarian pursed his lips. “You’re a royal advisor too. Stop eating and advise. How am I going to get Gunther to allow us to move the fountain? He’s all ‘historical significance’ and ‘built by our grandfathers’ and ‘unnecessary expense’ just because he’s the treasurer. It’s slowing the construction. And he’s stirring up the people against Lars, telling them he isn’t the real duke.”
Benji shrugged again. “Well, he isn’t.”
“That’s not helpful,” Calarian snapped. “And for your information, he’s doing wonderfully. The people love Lars!”
“The people love Lars,” Benji mimicked, and snapped the head off a gingerbread cowherd with icing suspenders. “Lars is stupid. This town is stupid.” He stabbed the gingerbread cowherd with his bollock dagger and immediately felt better.
Calarian tapped a finger against his thigh and mused, “What would my housemaster do? You’re on a quest to build a path for trolls and there’s an obstacle...”
Benji rolled his eyes. “Not everything is a quest, you know? And this isn’t a game. These are real people, and you need a real plan, because if you get it wrong they’ll all suffer.” He was mainly thinking of Hannah and Gretchen and his gingerbread supply, but Calarian didn’t need to know that.
Calarian raised his eyebrows. “But you hate real people.”
“That is only mostly true,” Benji said. He crunched on the gingerbread cowherd’s lederhosen. “I live for the concept of the common people living free and unshackled by the constraints forced upon them