“Maybe we should’a kept goin’, lass.” The dwarf adventurer joked. “We could be drinkin’ in Thrymwall by now.”

  Marie patted him on the shoulder. “Better to fight here than run into a large warband with no walls to protect our backs, Sibrek.”

  Sibrek nodded. “Aye, lass, but look at who’ll be at our backs. You feel confident ‘bout that lot?”

  Marie gave a cursory glance across the crowd. “Enough will do what they need to, to protect what’s theirs, like most men do in the end.”

  Will breathed a sigh of relief knowing he had support. He watched as those who understood they had to fight to protect those they loved nod in agreement. There was still a handful who looked at him with hatred, but it wasn’t as venomous as before, and none stepped forward to challenge him; they had more important things to be dealing with. It would be after the fight—if anyone survived—when he would have to watch his back.

  “Elder.” William gestured towards the crowd. “Quickly get the children and those who can’t fight into the bunker and seal it.”

  The old man barked a few orders, and soon enough, children, the elderly, and mothers with young children were ushered into the bunker.

  William watched as Fredric had a teary goodbye with his mother and five young siblings.

  “I’m going to be fine,” Fredric said to a little girl not older than eight. She had mousey brown hair and orange freckles just like Fred. She hugged him tight. “Sir William will be at my side, so I’ll be as safe as you all are with ma.” He kissed his little sister on the top of her head.

  I’ll do my best. Will clenched his fists. I’m glad I got you that armour.

  One of Fredric’s brothers, a five-year-old who was carrying a wooden sword, ran towards William. The little boy looked up at the six-foot-plus-tall Holy Paladin in golden armour with his mouth wide open in awe. He was missing one of his front teeth. “I’ll protect us from de gobbys wiv yous and Fred. We’ll slash ‘em down.” He waved his wooden sword through the air; it clunked against Will’s armour.

  The boy’s mother—with a baby in her arms—rushed to grab her son. “I’m so sorry, m’lord. He means no harm.”

  William stifled a laugh and bent down on one knee, and placed a gauntleted hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “It would be my honour to fight alongside such an honourable and brave knight as yourself.” He glanced at Fred, who was smiling. “But, if you’re out here with us, what brave knight will protect your ma and your brother and sisters?”

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  The little boy looked towards his family and then, with a frown, back at William.

  Will offered a stern look. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Bobby,” one of his older sisters answered.

  William tried not to smile, but the corners of his mouth refused to listen. “Well, Bobby. Today I name thee Sir Bobby of Brindlecross, first of his name, defender of brothers and sisters… and mothers.” He moved his hand from one shoulder to the other and then patted the boy’s head. “Sir Bobby of Brindlecross, will you take up the important task of protecting your family?”

  The little boy nodded.

  “Good man. A true man of Mercia,” William said with his deepest voice. “Protect your family and make Brindlecross and your King proud.” He stood and saluted the child to the applause and cheers of those who’d stopped to watch. The boy’s mother was crying.

  The little boy saluted and ran back to his family. “I’m a knight. I’m a Sir Knight now.”

  After the last of those who couldn’t fight squeezed into the bunker, it was sealed from within and hidden from the goblins with an old cart and some bags of horse manure. The hope was that the smell would put the goblins off from investigating further.

  “Thanks, Will.” Fredric wiped the tears from his cheeks.

  William patted the teenager’s shoulder. “We’ll keep your family safe, Fred.”

  ***

  William looked out at the now fortified village of Brindlecross. Most of their plans had come to fruition over the past week. The palisade had been extended and now included areas for archers and spear-wielding defenders to stand. This included two eighteen-foot-high watchtowers, each capable of holding half a dozen archers.

  A six-foot-wide and deep trench, lined with sharp wooden spikes and brambles, collected from the forest, had been dug in front of the palisade.

  Further out, the soil from the trench had been used to build a mound lined with large, sharpened wooden spikes that had been driven into the ground to form a difficult-to-manoeuvre zone. Gaps had been filled with more razor-sharp brambles to prevent the small goblins from simply squeezing through the gaps. It was far from perfect, but at best it would persuade the attackers to take the easier route through the kill zone or, at worst, slow them down while the defenders peppered them with arrows and stones.

  Hidden beneath layers of sticks and grass, hundreds of ankle and knee-deep holes pocked the clearing. Some were lined with rune-enchanted mines, Nobby the Master Runesmith’s grim handiwork, while others bristled with sharpened stakes. They weren’t built to kill outright, but to cripple by shattering legs, tearing flesh, and slowing the advance by turning every step into a gamble.

  At the front was an apparent, clear, narrowing area where goblins could easily pass and enter the village. This area, known as the kill zone, was riddled with larger spike-lined pits and even more of the smaller, foot-sized mines and spike traps. All covered to hide them from the goblin warband. An attacker couldn’t take six steps without encountering a trap.

  Will took a deep breath. We can only pray they aren’t intelligent enough to attack from another direction and dismantle the barriers. He shook his head. “It’s orcs and goblins; they aren’t that smart. We’re ready. It has to be enough.”

  A new notification appeared.

  [Quest Completed: Prepare the Village of Brindlecross]

  [Reputation Increase for The Kingdom of Mercia +500]

  [XP: +100]

  William gave a wry smile as he dismissed the notification. What followed was a second notification.

  Chapter 025 [Questline Updated: Defend the Village of Brindlecross]