“Oh, wait. Are you upset that Lars is missing and possibly dead? I thought you thought he was an idiot.”
Gretchen cocked a brow. “I do think he’s an idiot, but that doesn’t mean I want him dead.”
“Huh.”
“Listen, Hannah came to deliver some bread to the castle this morning, and Gunther is telling everyone that Lars ran off. I smell bullshit.”
“That’s probably leftover troll gunk,” Benji said. “Calarian got covered in it yesterday.” He walked back to the bed and poked Calarian in the ribs. “Wake up. Lars is dead.”
Calarian flailed awake, using his fingers to divide the tangled curtain of his hair. “What? What do you mean he’s dead?”
“Or missing,” Benji added.
“You could have led with that,” Calarian grumbled, like a baby. “Wait. Who is this, and why is she staring at my penis?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Gretchen said. “I ate a bigger bratwurst for breakfast. And I’m Gretchen. The blacksmith.”
Calarian’s eyes glazed over in an expression of stunned worship that Benji recognised only too well. “Don’t bother,” he said, elbowing Calarian in the ribs. “She’s married.”
“So? I can still look,” Calarian said, tossing his hair over his shoulders and continuing to gaze at the vision of loveliness in front of him.
Benji scowled. Calarian really needed to get over his stupid habit of looking at pretty people, even super attractive people like Gretchen, who was admittedly a goddess. Benji was plenty attractive, thank you, and Calarian should just look at him instead, and forget everyone else.
Wait, what?
Benji wondered briefly where that thought had come from, then shook it off and poked Calarian in the ribs again right where he was ticklish, just to make him yelp.
“Now’s not the time to look. Especially since there’s a dead duke, again,” Benji reminded him. “Well, maybe dead. Definitely missing.” He scooped up another pair of pants and threw them at Calarian, who groaned as he got out of bed.
They both scrabbled around to get dressed. Calarian ended up wearing one of Benji’s favourite black shirts, and Benji ended up with Calarian’s boots. He watched with some satisfaction at the face Calarian made when he slid his feet inside Benji’s. They were still damp from their bath the night before.
“When did you see Lars last?” Gretchen asked.
“Last night before bed,” Calarian said, and Benji nodded.
“Gunther is telling everyone that he ran away,” Gretchen said. “Which... well, he is emotionally attached to his missing cow, so he might have gone looking for her again, but he’s also not the type of man who’d run from his responsibilities.”
“Too good,” Calarian said, at the same moment Benji said, “Too stupid.”
“Yes,” Gretchen said.
Benji exchanged a glance with Calarian and wondered which one of them she was agreeing with. He opened his mouth to ask, but Gretchen had already moved on.
“So we need to find him,” she said. “Because fuck Gunther.”
“No, thank you,” Calarian and Benji said in unison, and then fist bumped.
Gretchen rolled her eyes, and shoved Benji so hard he fell back on the bed. “I’m serious, cutie pie. You want to bring down the ruling classes? You should start with Gunther.”
“But he’s a nobody!” Benji exclaimed. “Lars is the ruling class now!”
“Don’t be stupid,” Gretchen said. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘the power behind the throne’? If Tournel had a throne, then Gunther would be the guy standing behind it, probably with a knife. He’s been skimming from the ducal treasury for years. Everyone suspects it. Poor old Duke Klaus was too senile to notice, but now he’s gone Gunther must be plotting his revenge against Lars, because Klaus named Lars heir instead of him.”
Benji wrinkled his nose and hummed.
“Yes,” said Calarian slowly. “That’s exactly what happened.”
“Good,” said Gretchen. “Then we’re agreed?”
“Yes!” Benji exclaimed, because Gretchen had that effect on him. “Wait, we’re agreed to what?”
“That I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Gunther, and you two can go and find Lars and bring him back here,” Gretchen said.
“I don’t think that was ever agreed to,” Benji said tentatively.
“Or even verbalised prior to now,” Calarian agreed.
“Aren’t elves good hunters?” Gretchen asked. She put her hands on her hips. “If anyone can track Lars, it has to be you two, right?”
“I mean, technically,” Benji began.
“We’ll do it!” Calarian exclaimed. “We love quests! And, of course, it’s the right thing to do!”
Benji sighed deeply. “I’ll go, but when we get back it’ll cost you gingerbread. All the gingerbread.”
Maybe, if he was lucky, he might even get a chance to use his bollock dagger.
Some time later, the only