Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,75

him, and wasn’t that enough?

Except, if it was enough, then why was Lars crying and why was guilt gnawing at Benji’s gut? Why did everything have to be complicated?

Calarian raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing, and somehow that was even worse.

It was a small, quiet procession of horses that made their way out of Tournel on a bright dawn.

“Listen, I’m just saying, we could stop and put bags over the horses’ hooves, so they’re not so loud,” Loth whined. His pub crawl with Gretchen had gone the way everyone had known it would, except, apparently, for Loth. “Also, you could kill me and put me out of my misery. And when we get back, I’m passing a law banning Tournellian stout.” He paused thoughtfully. “Or getting the recipe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Quinn ignored him.

A few of the soldiers rode first, followed by the kings, followed by Benji and Calarian and Lars. The rest of the soldiers made a little rear guard. They passed out of the gate at the bottom end of Tournel. The town walls dropped away to reveal the stark beauty of the mountains beyond, where lush green hillsides drew the eye higher and higher, and jagged peaks, white with snow even in the summer, thrust dramatically into the sky.

Benji glanced at Lars, and his heart clenched tightly in his chest when he saw the way that Lars’s eyes swam with tears, and his lower lip trembled. Benji caught Calarian’s worried gaze.

Cowbells clanged from a nearby meadow, and a single tear rolled down Lars’s cheek.

Benji sighed, then pulled his horse to a stop and tossed his knapsack onto the road. He followed it down, landing with a slight thump.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he declared loudly, and the riders up ahead stopped and turned. “A fledgling democracy needs guidance, and it would be irresponsible of me to leave it unsupervised.”

Lars turned his head from where he’d been gazing at the mountains. “What?”

“It’s my civic duty to stay,” Benji said, folding his arms across his chest to indicate this wasn’t open for discussion. “And obviously, if I’m staying, Calarian’s staying. Elves are collectivist anarchists, so of course there has to be two of us to make it a collective.”

Calarian’s eyebrows raised up to his hairline for all of three seconds, and then he grinned. “You do need someone to keep you out of trouble. It’s an ongoing quest.”

Benji vaguely noted that both Loth and Quinn were both smirking from the backs of their horses, but whatever. Benji didn’t care what they thought. He turned to Lars. “It looks like we’re staying in Tournel after all. Stay with us?”

Lars’s eyes lit up with joy and he beamed at Benji, making him wonder how he’d ever thought he could deny Lars a single moment of happiness. And had Benji thought Lars had a smile like sunshine before? No, it was brighter, an exploding star, blinding and phenomenal. “You mean it? We’re really staying?”

“Of course,” Benji said. “I can write my manifesto from here.”

“And I can still go on quests,” Calarian said. He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Or maybe start my own Houses and Humans campaign.”

Lars almost tumbled from his horse in his eagerness to reach them. He laughed and kissed them both all over their faces, which Benji supposed was his way of saying he was staying as well.

“Good luck!” Quinn called. “Come and visit us whenever you like. You are always welcome in Callier!”

Loth managed a wave, swaying slightly in the saddle.

Benji and Calarian and Lars led their horses back into Tournel. When they reached the castle, still smiling, Gretchen was waiting in the courtyard.

“Took you idiots long enough,” she said. “Lars would have been eaten alive in the real world. And I didn’t want to be stuck with his stupid cows anyway.” She was wearing an imperious scowl, but the corner of her mouth twitched in a smile she was trying to hide, and she didn’t even complain when all three of them squashed her in a hug. “Welcome home, boys.”

If summer in Tournel had been beautiful, Benji wasn’t sure how he felt about winter. Oh, it was all very pretty and whatnot with all that snow, but it was also fucking cold. It was lovely inside, with fires and warmth and all of that hearty, hot Tournellian food, but outside? Benji shivered at the thought of it.

He was a lowland elf.

“Benji?” Hannah asked, coming over to join him by the door. “I’m locking up and we’re closing.