of it and was overwhelmed with relief. Lars was amazing, and Calarian couldn’t help but pull him close and kiss him, hard and desperate, before blurting out, “I think I love you, Lars Melker.”
Lars’s face split into a broad grin. “Same,” he said, slightly breathless. “Now let's go ride some cows and rescue Benji.”
It was the work of minutes for Lars to round up the herd, settle himself across Maisy’s broad shoulders, and lead the cows down the slope. Calarian chose the cow with a shape of a dick on its side because he thought if Benji was here he’d approve. He thanked his lucky stars that Lars’s cows were, like Lars himself, incredibly accommodating, because the animal didn’t even flinch at having a stranger on its back. He held on tight and let himself be jostled about as Lars led and Hannah followed, encouraging the cows to move faster.
The ride got a hell of a lot bumpier once they passed through the hole in the wall and reached the cobblestoned streets of the town and raced toward the town square, following the path they’d cleared just a few days ago for the mountain trolls.
As they got closer, Calarian’s stomach dropped at the sight of Gunther brandishing a scroll and pushing a woman down the steps of the gallows while Benji stood there, shackled and helpless. He kicked at his cow’s flanks, urging her on, and then gripped her horns for dear life as she sped up.
Now that he had Benji fixed in his sights, he found himself unable to look away as a burly man wrestled a rope around Benji’s neck. His breath caught in his throat. Lars must have seen the same thing because he slapped Maisy’s rump and leaned forward, crying “Ha! Come on, girls!” waving his hat in what must have been some secret cow signal for faster, because the herd surged forward, bells clanging and hooves clattering against the cobblestones as they finally reached the square.
Benji’s eyes were closed but they snapped open suddenly, his mouth opening in an O of surprise at the sight of them. Calarian saw his eyes light up, a split second before the burly man behind him kicked him off the side of the platform. Calarian’s heart squeezed in his chest as he saw Benji’s feet kick helplessly at empty air. Benji threw his hands up and he grabbed at the rope of the noose, saving himself from a brutal ugly death, but Calarian knew he’d only brought himself a reprieve. They still needed to get to him, and fast.
It couldn't have been more than twenty feet to the scaffold, but it seemed to take forever. Calarian was dimly aware of people scattering before the rampaging herd, of the gasps and cries of the crowd, of Gunther’s shrieks of outrage, but all his attention was fixed on Benji, who was going an alarming shade of purple as he continued to struggle weakly against the rope.
It was Hannah who got there first, flying past on her mount, and in a feat of athletic flexibility that made Calarian’s head spin she stood up in her saddle, leaned sideways, lifted Benji by the collar of his shirt, and swung him back on the platform. Benji stumbled for a heart-stopping moment before he found his footing. Then he yanked desperately at the rope and loosened the noose around his neck, coughing and gasping. Hannah rode away with something that sounded suspiciously like a yodelling war cry.
“Holy shit,” the goon behind Benji said, staring after Hannah open-mouthed. Benji took the chance to clench his shackled hands together and bring them up under his chin, snapping the goon’s head backwards, knocking him off his feet, before scrambling to get the noose off his neck completely.
He dived off the gallows and hit the cobblestones seconds before a flurry of arrows sailed over him, courtesy of Gunther’s hired muscle. They didn’t get to fire more than once though, because the cows didn’t hesitate to lower their heads and run roughshod over them, bellowing loudly and knocking them over like so many wooden skittles, with only one or two of them left standing as the rest were trampled underfoot.
Benji rolled under the gallows and to safety, panting for breath, but before he disappeared, he pointed to Calarian, grinning delightedly and mouthing ‘dick cow!’
Calarian grinned back, adrenaline flooding his system as it hit him that they’d done it—they’d saved Benji from the hangman’s noose.
“Calarian Duck!”
Calarian swivelled this way and that