Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,34
Maisy was hauled up the way she’d fallen, with a very anxious Lars watching worriedly from below, and two very confused mountain trolls trying to coordinate their rope-hauling so they didn’t tip her straight back down again and crush Lars to death. It was a painstaking process, but everyone survived it in the end, which Calarian was honestly surprised about.
Once Maisy was up, both Lars and Benji climbed out of the cavern, and then Lars borrowed one of the mountain trolls’ ropes to lead Maisy towards freedom. Not that she needed much leading. As soon as she caught a glimpse of sunlight she began to rush towards it. Lars’s impressive muscles strained with the effort of holding her at a more sedate pace than she wanted.
Outside the cave, the sunlight was bright and the fresh air was bracing. Calarian took a deep breath, flushed with success.
They paid the mountain trolls in Lars’s second type of breakfast cheese, the one that wasn’t quite as good as the first, and then followed Maisy back out onto the mountainside. Now that Maisy was safe, Lars was beaming continuously at them both. He alternated between stroking Maisy's back and feeding her the apples from the bottom of his rucksack, and slapping Calarian and Benji on the back in congratulations at their successful quest.
Calarian felt a sudden strange hollow feeling in his stomach. Usually when he finished a quest he was puffed up with pride, but he didn’t feel so great at the moment. His gaze fell on Lars’s smile, and he realised why. He’d finished his quest. The mountain troll problem had been solved, and there was a much hardier duke on the throne now in Tournel. He and Benji could leave and go back to Callier. Calarian should have felt a lot happier about that than he did.
He shot a quick look at Benji, and realised that the wrinkle on Benji’s brow suggested that maybe he felt the same. That in itself was something of a surprise—Benji claimed he didn’t have feelings, saying they were stupid, but it was obvious to Calarian that he was having one now, and not enjoying it in the least. He gave Benji an encouraging smile that Benji pretended not to see.
“Well,” Calarian said at last. “I guess we should head back down?”
They set off back through the mountains toward Tournel, going at a slow pace so that Maisy could graze on the way. They met up with a few other cows on the way back, including Ethel. The walk down the mountainside was much less taxing than the one up had been, and apart from moments of almost staggering dizziness when Calarian’s brain caught up with his eyes and calculated just how high up they really were—he was still, after all, a lowland elf—it was pleasant enough.
Maisy and Ethel and a few other cows followed them easily, bells clanking melodiously.
They caught sight of the nun and the children at one point, dancing and singing their way along a different mountain slope, thankfully.
Benji’s eyes widened and he gripped Calarian’s sleeve. “Is that Dave?”
Calarian squinted to look. Unless the nun had picked up an exceptionally large, green and orc-shaped child to add to her ranks, that was definitely Dave skipping along at the end of the line, strumming his lute and singing.
“Is he wearing a kilt made of curtains?” Benji asked. “Where is she finding all these curtains? We are in the mountains!”
Lars shook his head, and said in a grave tone, “There are some mysteries best left alone.”
They continued on their way.
When night fell, they set up camp on the mountainside. Lars set up a small tent with ruthless efficiency while the cows milled around in the gathering darkness.
“Look there,” Lars said, extending a muscular arm as he pointed.
Calarian saw a faint glow of lights in a distant valley.
“Tournel,” Lars said. “We’ll be back tomorrow, and I suppose I’ll have to be a duke again instead of a cowherd.” He sighed deeply.
“You’re a very good duke though,” Calarian said. “You figured out the trolls weren’t attacking, and then you went and found the monster.”
“The monster wasn’t really a monster though,” Lars said glumly. “If it had been, I probably wouldn’t have known what to do.”
“I was a monster once,” Benji said. “Very few monsters are as advertised.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Lars smiled at Benji, cheeks dimpling. “Monsters are supposed to be terrifying to look at, aren’t they? You’re too handsome to be a monster.”