At the plateau’s base, Caste could only surmise what was happening when Judd and Aalis began to yell but a moment later, he realised just how serious it was as Judd and Verne nearly killed themselves clambering down the rock wall.

“What happened?” He demanded as they half leapt, half fell over his head, hitting the ground and sprinting.

“Run you redheaded cleric, run!”

Caste didn’t have to look. All he heard was the snarling, snapping sound of dozens of goblins launching themselves from the plateau and took off like a startled rabbit. Judd and Verne were no slouches when it came to running but the terrified, unfit cleric outpaced both of them, streaking ahead as a blur.

“You know,” Verne yelled in between gasping for breath, “if we keep on like this…we’ll lead them to the village!”

Judd had already worked that one out. He knew they had to do something to stop the goblins.

“See that rocky outcrop?”

“A last stand?”

“Yep!”

They bolted to the rocks, Verne leaping up as high as he could before spinning around, unleashing all the arrows he had left at the goblins that were far too close for comfort. Judd unsheathed his sword. It was broken but it was better than fighting the goblins with his bare hands.

Their snarling faces raced closer, some falling from Verne’s arrows but there were plenty more for Judd to take care of. Just as he lunged at the leader, he heard a battle cry behind him and suddenly Claud, Kurst and several of the farmers brandishing their tools, rakes, shovels and hoes, leapt into the fray. The goblins chittered and screeched, unafraid at the increased numbers. In their minds, the more humans that fought them, the more meat to go around.

But while Claud and his people were not fighters, they knew the weight of their tools and used them brilliantly. Rakes smashed into goblin’s heads, throwing them sideways. Shovels cracked down on the goblins, knocking them senseless and hoes buried deep into their chests until they were bloodied, silent and still. The fight was hard and fast and over quite quickly and not one of the goblins survived.

Judd looked around at the victorious farmers then turned to Verne, splattered with green blood.

Verne chuckled softly and nodded.

“Judd, are you hurt?” Claud asked, approaching him.

“Any wounds make me grateful to be alive.” Judd clasped his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I…I felt terrible that you were going up against those goblins for our sake and that I hadn’t offered to lift a…”

“Shovel?”

Claud leaned on his battered tool. “When your cleric came screaming into camp, I grabbed my shovel and ran and those that could, came with me.”

“Well, you certainly saved our skins.”

“And the water?”

“The water…Dam! I mean, the dam! Aalis!”

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Despite the excruciating stitch in his side and the ache in his legs, Judd hurried back to the plateau, Verne going with him. Claud and the other farmers said they would stay behind to burn the goblin bodies. When they finally dragged themselves to the top of the plateau, rolling onto the flat ground with no grace whatsoever, Judd heard his name cried out.

“Aalis?” He looked up. She was still in the tree.

“Look out!”

A goblin leapt at him, too close for Judd to get his sword out of its sheath. Suddenly an arrow ran the goblin through the eye and it crashed to the ground at Judd’s feet, skidding in the leaves. Judd turned to Verne, aghast as the archer lowered his bow.

“Let me guess,” Judd shuddered, “you were aiming for its feet?”

Verne smiled.

“Are the goblins dead?” Aalis called.

“Yes. You can come down now. We’ll unblock the dam.”

Aalis nodded and began to make her way across the branch when it gave a single, spine twinging crack and snapped from beneath her. Aalis’ fingers scrabbled madly at the branch above her head but it was too little, too late and she plunged into the pool.

Judd didn’t hesitate, running to the edge of the water and diving in as Aalis surfaced in a panic, splashing wildly.

“I cannot swim!” She shrieked, going under again.

The one thing Judd knew how to do, apart from gut a fish, was swim. His strong arms propelled him across the pool and Aalis’ hands clung to him desperately.

“I’ve got you.” He urged. “It’s alright…calm down.”

He swam back to the bank of the pool, drawing her with him and they sank onto the slippery rocks that lined the edge.

“Thank you.” Aalis breathed.

Judd was out of breath from all the running, climbing, jumping, running, fighting, running, climbing and swimming so he just waved his hand in response.

“That goblin…he was in the cave behind the waterfall and when he heard me yell, he stayed behind, throwing rocks at me.”

“Aalis, I’m so sorry.” Judd moaned.

“It was not at all your fault.” Aalis insisted.

“Just so you know,” Verne stood over them, “I kicked the logs that made the dam out of the way and got the river flowing at full capacity again.”

“Worth your weight in Astaril gold, Verne!” Judd grasped his hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. He helped Aalis to rise and then ran his hands through his hair, spraying water. “Did you say there was a cave?”

“Yes, behind that waterfall.” Aalis pointed. “I doubt there are any goblins hiding inside but it might be worth exploring.”

“Monsters do love their treasure.” Judd chuckled. “Ooh, you never know…I might find a new sword! Or a shield! No, I definitely need a new sword.”

They slipped and slid over the rocks at the base of the waterfall, ducking their heads to get inside. The cave wasn’t very deep and it smelt rather similar to the ogre’s feet from Aalis’ village. Moss grew abundantly and was so slippery they had to use their hands to keep falling over as they clambered towards the back.

“What’s that?” Verne nodded and they all squinted into the darkness where moonlight, now that the sun had gone down, was shining a bright white beam onto a cross like shape that appeared to be buried in many small, round flat pebbles.

“Something shining?” Judd whispered and hastened towards it. “Wait…that’s the hilt of a sword! Look!” He lurched towards it. “It’s…it has the mark of Astaril upon it! It’s a knight’s sword!”

“I think it is safe to say it is your sword now.” Aalis remarked.

Judd trembled. “This is fate…destiny…a guiding light! This is showing me that I’m not a freak or a laughing stock to be following my dream of becoming a knight. This sword confirms it!” His fingers wrapped around the hilt. “I can almost feel the power. This sword will be my right hand as I smite the monsters of Maul!” He grasped it tightly and drew it from the pebbles, holding it high above his head…

…only to realise that there was no sword attached to the hilt. It was just a hilt and the blade was broken off so close Judd couldn’t have cut himself with the edge, let alone a monster.

Judd’s face flushed with humiliation and his arm dropped.

Aalis saw his dreams dissipate like smoke.

“I liked your speech,” she offered gently, “and one day there will be a sword worthy of it,” Judd sighed, “and no sword can tell you your future so do not give up on your dream, Judd LaMogre.”

He smiled ruefully and nodded. “Thank you, Aalis.”

“Ah…what’s all that?” Verne pointed at the pile of pebbles. Judd looked down at his feet and scooped some into his palm.

“Huh…a whole lot of a copper coins…”

“I have pockets.” Aalis laughed and they rooted through the cave, gathering all the coins they could as well as a few other trinkets caught between the crevices of the rocks.

Then they began the long trek back to the village.