Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,72

bards make ballads about. And you’re a hero too, Benji, though you’re a different sort. You don’t fight monsters, you fight systems of oppression.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “And I’m just a simple cowherd from Tournel.”

“No!” Benji exclaimed fiercely. “We don’t care about those things!”

“But you should,” Lars said. His blue eyes swam with tears. “Those things matter. I don’t.”

Calarian reached a hand towards Lars, and brushed his fingertips down his arm. “You matter, Lars. In fact…” He hesitated, exchanging a glance with Benji, before saying, “Why don’t you...come with us?”

“I...” Lars shook his head, blinking rapidly. “What?”

“Come with us,” Calarian repeated, “to Callier.”

“You really want me to come with you?” Lars bit his bottom lip.

“Yes!” Benji exclaimed. “Of course you should come with us! Because the three of us together are amazing!”

Lars gave a shaky smile. “We are, aren’t we?”

“We’re the best,” Calarian said, and squeezed Lars’s hand.

Lars squared his shoulders and nodded. “I think... yes, if it means we get to stay together, I think I’ll go with you to Callier!”

Benji beamed, and then he and Calarian got into a shoving match over who got to kiss Lars first. It was the sort of fight where everybody won, because Lars made sure he kissed them both in turn, repeatedly, all the way to their bedroom.

It was only later, when they were drifting off to sleep in a tangle of limbs, that it occurred to Calarian that the kisses weren’t as enthusiastic as normal.

Chapter Eighteen

Benji lay back in the grass and looked up at the fluffy clouds drifting overhead. He pointed and said, “That one looks like a dick.”

“You think everything looks like a dick,” Calarian said from where he was lying next to him.

Benji shrugged. “Everything does, if you try hard enough.”

Calarian snorted, and pulled himself up to a sitting position. “We should go back. We’re meant to be packing so we’re ready to leave after they install Gretchen as the Duchess of Tournel tomorrow.”

Benji flapped a hand lazily in response. “We aren’t going until the next morning now. Loth said he wants to make a night of it and try all the local ales.” Anyway, packing was boring. Spending time with Calarian and Lars was much more fun. Speaking of Lars, Benji sat up and peered down the hillside.

Lars was wandering among his herd, patting them gently and talking to them, but instead of the joy that normally lit up his face when he was with his girls, his forehead was creased in a frown.

Calarian nudged him as Benji watched Lars sit down on a rock outcrop, shoulders slumped, distinctly lacking any of his usual cow-related enthusiasm. “Does he seem all right to you?” he asked.

Benji tilted his head, considering. “Maybe we wore him out last night?” he ventured. “The alchemist with a twist is always pretty taxing the first time.”

Benji didn't really think that was it, though. Sure, Lars was only human, and he didn’t quite have the stamina of elves, but he did have the stamina of the old duke, and when Benji looked at Lars he didn’t get a sense of tiredness so much as resignation. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason Lars would be sad. After all, Lars had agreed to come to Callier because he loved them.

Lars would get to experience palace life, and Benji and Calarian could show him what it was like living in the big city, and they were going to be together! The very idea of it made Benji smile, even when he didn't mean to. Gretchen had laughingly accused him of looking like a lovesick calf yesterday and he hadn’t even been able to gather enough rage to throw her a glare.

He also hadn’t thrown his dagger, because after he’d spent an afternoon throwing it at various targets and missing wildly, it had become apparent that Benji could only throw with deadly accuracy when someone’s life was on the line. The rest of the time he was absolute pants with a knife, and after an incident involving Helga's bun and a doorframe, Gretchen had confiscated his blade for his own good. He was only allowed to get it back when he left Tournel.

“Maybe,” Calarian said doubtfully. “Or maybe he’s just nervous. Callier’s a big change. He’s going to have to learn to wear long pants.”

“That could be it,” Benji agreed. “I’d be sad too, if I looked that good in shorts and had to cover my knees.” He let out a sorrowful little sigh at