mooing? Why weren’t his imagined cows lowing gently, a lazy lullaby as he dozed? Why were they–
Benji’s eyes snapped open.
Why were they bellowing?
And why were they here?
The crowds scattered as a herd of dairy cows stampeded into the square, hooves clattering and bells clanging loudly. Benji’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of Lars leading the charge from where he was perched on the back of Maisy, one hand waving his stupid little hat as he cried, “Ha! Come on girls!”
There must have been twenty cows, all of them worked up into a frenzy as they burst into the square.
Calarian was riding one too, gripping its horns grimly for balance, and Benji almost laughed as he saw what cow it was—the dick cow! Calarian was rescuing him on a dick cow! Could anything be more perfect?
“Holy shit,” the goon behind Benji said, and the sudden fear in his voice would have made Benji laugh except...
Except he put his hands on Benji’s back and pushed.
Benji reached up with his shackled hands and grabbed for the rope just as his feet hit the air. He caught the rope, and most of his weight, but he was still swinging out into open space, his feet scrabbling uselessly for a foothold. And he might have saved himself from having his neck snapped, but the rope was tight around his throat, and the pressure was increasing with every passing second.
This was it, he thought wildly, as everything grew fuzzy. This was how he died: swinging from a rope in the town square of Tournel as a wave of bellowing dairy cows raced towards him.
His last thought as his vision darkened was that he was going to die for a crime he didn't commit, and he'd never even got to tell Lars and Calarian how he felt about them.
How was that fair?
His fingers slipped, and the rope squeezed tighter.
Chapter Fifteen
Calarian darted forward out of the shade of the hut and into the grassy meadow as Hannah rode towards him. His head was spinning, and sudden, sharp fear made him breathless. “He’s what?”
Hannah reined her horse in. Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes were dark with worry. “Gunther’s going to hang Benji. I saw them building something in the square, and it’s a gallows. I overheard Gunther telling someone he was going to take care of the elf problem once and for all, so I came looking for you straight away,”
Calarian sucked in a sharp breath. “But he can’t! Benji’s a royal envoy!”
“That won’t make him any less dead at the end of the rope,” Hannah snapped. “Now get on.”
She shuffled forward on the horse.
“Lars can ride, I’ll run behind,” Calarian decided. “I’m fast.”
Hannah held out a hand impatiently. “I don’t care. We just need to get back before it’s too late.”
Lars swung up onto the back of the horse and Hannah set out at a gallop. Calarian followed. He ran until he felt like his lungs would burst, keeping pace and ignoring the stitch in his side. The beautiful flower-dotted mountainside meadows flashed past in his vision. When it felt like he couldn’t run another step he kept running anyway, driven by the desperation that clawed at his insides, and a single thought.
Benji couldn’t die. He wouldn’t allow it.
As they came within sight of the town, they were able to see a crowd gathered in the square, surrounding a structure that hadn’t been there before.
“Stop!” Calarian called out, and Hannah tugged on the reins and brought her horse to a stop.
“What?” she asked impatiently. “We don’t have time for this!”
Calarian held up a finger as he caught his breath, before gasping out, “We need a plan. We can’t just go riding madly in there.”
“Actually,” Lars said, and slid off the horse with a thump, “we can.”
Calarian wanted to argue, but he knew enough by now to know that Lars wasn’t stupid, and if he had something to say, it was best to listen.
“We ride into town, and we take the herd with us,” Lars said, and Calarian saw that yes, Lars’s dairy herd was just slightly ahead of them, grazing on the slopes that overlooked the town.
Maisy lifted her head and lowed at the sound of Lars’s voice.
“Have you ever seen stampeding cows?” Lars said with a raised eyebrow. “It’s loud and messy and terrifying, and it would make a hell of a distraction while we rescue Benji.”
“That’s actually perfect,” Hannah said, nodding. “I’ll help drive them down the hill.”
Calarian saw the genius