Judd was just laying the last of the thatch on the roof when he heard a shout and looked up, seeing people hurrying towards the fort, away from the entrance to the village. The gate had been left open so that the farmers could tend their fields and supplies could be brought into the town. As such there was nothing to stop anything from barging in. The argument had been made that the orthros, while unpleasant, could be dealt with again if another made an appearance and the spider had simply climbed over the barrier and even the fort’s defences were no match for it.

So the man, coated in custom made armour in matt black and his armed two dozen soldiers simply marched straight in. Judd kicked himself for becoming complacent and leaving his sword inside the fort. He wasn’t in his armour and he didn’t like his chances if the newcomers were hostile.

The man in the distinctive black armour surveyed the village through the slit of his helm then caught sight of Judd on the roof.

“You there!” He called. “I am Sir Egrette of Fort Callain. I seek Sir Bobellion or the person who is in charge of this fort should he have fallen.”

“Everyone is inside Fort Sol, sir.” Judd explained. “They will have barred entry,” he slid down, the knight eyeing him calmly, “but I can get them to open it.” He led the knight and the soldiers to the gates that had been closed in haste and pulled on the bell. “Verne! Open up! Reinforcements are here!”

Verne didn’t reply but a moment later the gates opened a crack and his blue eye fixed on Judd then on the knight behind him before opening the gates fully. Judd stepped aside to allow Sir Egrette and his soldiers to march into the courtyard. Appearing on the steps up to the keep was Cleric Elde with Caste in tow.

“You, cleric,” Sir Egrette pointed, “where is your lord?”

“Sir Bobellion was slain in battle,” Elde said, adopted a formal, even dramatised telling of the knight’s demise, “and the bodies of the soldiers were never found.”

Sir Egrette eyed Elde sharply. “Fort Sol had a dozen trained soldiers and Sir Bobellion was an experienced knight despite his years. What could have happened here?”

“An orthros had been sighted for months but unable to be found and killed. I sent a report of the sighting to Astaril. Then there was trouble in the channel after sirens cut us off from all aid and slaughtered anyone who attempted to reach the mainland,” Elde explained, “although we only know now of their fate as we have been told that both ferry houses are abandoned. Finally, seven days ago, the fort’s defences were breached by a…spider…”

Sir Egrette had removed his helmet, showing off a head of tousled shoulder length sandy hued hair with a beard and sideburns to match and was studying Elde with a sceptical expression.

“A spider?”

“It…it was…” Elde floundered, his hands falling to his sides, unable to do the size of the spider’s body justice. He looked at Caste helplessly.

“This might put it in perspective.” Caste said, retrieving his pack and carefully offered the severed leg of the spider for Egrette’s inspection. The hardy knight was taken aback and there was a soft murmuring amongst his soldiers. “The body of the spider was probably as long as I am tall.”

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“Sir Bobellion fell to this vile creature?”

Elde nodded as Caste tucked the leg away. “He ordered us into a storage room into which we were trapped when the trapdoor was jammed shut. We would all be dead now if it weren’t for Judd LaMogre and his companions.”

“I do not know that name,” Sir Egrette frowned, “one of the soldiers?”

“No, a young man engaged in Sir Rylan’s quest for knighthood.”

Now Egrette’s jaw fell open fully and he slammed it shut in haste. “A middle class novice killed the spider?”

“And the orthros and crossed the channel without falling prey to the sirens.” Elde nodded.

“This I find hard to believe. Where is this man? I must meet him. Surely he must be a giant.” Elde gestured, a little embarrassed as Egrette was looking for an armour donned warrior and turned to see Judd, grubby from manual labour and in his casual clothes. “You?” Judd nodded. “You were repairing a roof!”

“I felt it was only right to try to help the residents of Fort Sol to get back on their feet,” Judd explained lightly, “we have been making repairs to buildings, bringing in crops, looking after the sick and the elderly…”

Egrette shook his head. “An unknighted warrior novice did what Sir Bobellion could not?”

As Judd tried to recall a way to prove what had happened, if only to get back into Sir Egrette’s good books as he seemed almost ready to run Judd through, one of the soldiers cleared his throat and leaned forward.

“Sir,” he said softly, “the list of Fort Bastil tournament champions was posted in the barracks only a day or two before we marched for Fort Sol. A Judd LaMogre was marked as the tournament’s champion.”

Sir Egrette considered this, his captain sliding back into line then studied Judd. “Well…I am quite honestly astonished…but pleasantly surprised as well. To have cut down an orthros is neither here nor there but a spider of those…proportions…very well done.”

“Sir,” Elde waved his hand politely, “may I ask how you crossed the channel? How did you resist the sirens?”

“We saw Fort Sol’s torch burn bright seven days ago,” Sir Egrette explained, “I can only surmise that one of the soldiers must have lit the beacon which was sighted by Fort Callain’s lookout and I rallied my finest regiment to leave the very next day. When we arrived at the ferry house it was abandoned and the ferry was in such poor condition that we had to cross the channel in several trips…but there were no sirens or any kind of disturbances in the water.”

Judd gave Caste a relieved look. “That will make the crossing much easier.”

“Then we marched on Fort Sol, expecting a battle…I confess, I am a little put out.” Sir Egrette said sternly but the corner of his mouth curled up.

“Could we make it up to you?” Giordi spoke up, bowing with his usual flare. “The fort kitchen is well stocked and your men are probably tired of marching rations.”

“Indeed. Captain?”

“At ease, soldiers.” The captain barked and the soldiers relaxed their stiff stance. “Lead on.”

Giordi led them inside. Sir Egrette turned to Judd, putting his hand on his shoulder as they walked into the main hall. “You have done the residents of Fort Sol a tremendous service, Judd LaMogre. I fear I am ill equipped to bestow any kind of reward or compensation upon you.”

“I’m just relieved we got here in time.” Judd insisted and then stumbled as the taller man clapped him hard on the shoulder and guffawed.

“Come now, there’s no need for false modesty. Knights of old might have been given the option for up to half the kingdom for the heroics you performed.”

“I really don’t want a reward,” Judd stopped walking and Sir Egrette turned and stared at him, surprise in his eyes, “there are a few things that my companions and I need…”

“Ah, Astaril gold perhaps? New sword or armour?”

“A lute,” Judd paused, “we could all use new shoes and my archer desperately needs arrows but of course, I am not demanding these things or even requesting. I wouldn’t even bring them up except my minstrel saved my life by ruining his lute and a bow is useless without arrows, no matter the skill of the archer.”

Egrette stared so long at Judd that the younger man shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Nothing for yourself?”

“Well…shoes but I…”

“Not only as brave as a knight but as noble as one too.” Egrette shook his head. “I think you’ll go a long way, LaMogre was it?” Judd nodded. “I look forward to hearing your name again in the future. I have no doubt I will.”