Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,54

he’s never actually done anything like that.” He paused to consider. “Well, apart from burning that schoolroom that one time. Well, three times. But he’s never killed anyone! Not even when he was the swamp monster!”

“Benji was a swamp monster? Wait no, never mind, I’m not even surprised.” Gretchen pinched the bridge of her perfect nose. “The point is, Tournel doesn’t really have crime, so we’re not equipped to deal with it. So it will take them forever to prepare for the trial, and then the guillotine takes as long to build as it takes, and since I’m the one building it, that’ll take months. Years, even. So it’s not like he’s in immediate danger, like I said.”

Calarian’s heart rate slowed down the slightest bit, and he didn’t feel quite so much like he was dying now, so he took a few deep breaths. “We still have to rescue him, though. I don’t know what Gunther’s cooked up in the way of witnesses, but it can’t be good.”

“Gunther's an untrustworthy little git, that’s for sure.” Gretchen pressed her mouth into a thin line. “Look, I have a few ideas, but I still think the best thing you can do for Benji right now is to try to get to Callier and ask the kings to put a stop to the trial.”

“That sounds very sensible and I hate it,” Calarian groused. She was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like the idea. Going off and leaving Benji behind felt wrong, even if it was to save him. “You’ll be there to keep an eye on him?”

Gretchen looked distinctly shifty. “I'll leave Hannah to keep an eye on him. The guards like her.”

“Why? Where are you going? Are you abandoning us, right when we need you?” Lars said, giving his sister the sort of really filthy look that only siblings were capable of.

“Hush, squirt,” She said, rolling her eyes. “I have things to do, that’s all.”

Lars opened his mouth to argue, but Gretchen fixed him with a glare. “Trust me, okay? I won’t be long, and there’s no way Gunther will be able to get a trial organised before I’m back.”

She reached into her belt and held something out to Calarian. It was Benji’s bollock dagger. “Give this to your boyfriend when you see him. He seems very attached to it.”

Boyfriend. Calarian hadn’t ever had anyone to call a boyfriend before, and now probably wasn't the time—in fact it most definitely wasn’t the time—but he still took a second to savour the thrill that ran through him upon hearing Benji called that.

He took the knife with a small nod of thanks. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

And then Gretchen was striding out the doorway to the hut without so much as a goodbye. Calarian and Lars watched as she turned a corner and disappeared from view. “She’s definitely up to something,” Lars said, “but even if she is, I’m not worried. Her plans normally work out.”

Calarian wished he could say the same. He knew that Gretchen was right, and that the smartest thing to do would be to go to Callier for help. But at the same time, he felt sick at the thought of leaving Benji alone in a dungeon in Tournel. He tried to tell himself that Benji was probably enjoying it—after all, he’d always wanted to be a political prisoner— but it didn’t quite ring true, because that wasn’t Benji. Not really, or at least not wholly. Benji didn’t belong in a dungeon cell. He belonged with Lars and Calarian, eating gingerbread and being an irritating dick.

They sat for a while on the porch swing at the front of the cottage, and Calarian stared at the sunlit mountains across from them. It really was beautiful here. Lars didn’t say anything, but he rested his hand on Calarian’s knee, and Calarian felt better knowing that Lars was there, and that they were in this mess together.

“For what it’s worth,” Calarian said at last, “we might have picked you because you were the first person we saw, but you’ve been an incredible duke.”

Lars flushed, and ducked his head. “I’m better with cows, I think. Cows make more sense. But thank you for saying that.”

They sat in silence again, and Calarian squinted and leaned forward as he saw a figure picking a path along a meadow opposite them. Gretchen? What the hell was she doing now?

Lars squinted at her as well, and then shrugged his massive shoulders. He slipped his