Around the campfire, no one spoke.
In the quiet camp the only sounds—besides the chirping insects and distant night birds—were the occasional muffled groans from the short-haired prisoner pinned beneath Ethan.
After quietly finishing his bowl of pea soup and feeling his stomach settle, Ethan looked up. His gaze moved slowly across the girls' faces.
"What are your plans now?"
The girls stopped eating. They exchanged uncertain glances filled with bewilderment and helplessness.
After a long silence the slightly older red-haired woman spoke first.
"I have an uncle in Rockfall Village. I want to go stay with him…"
Ethan nodded and looked at the others.
Two more girls answered quietly.
"My sister married into Rockfall Village a few years ago."
"I know a family there too."
"Is Rockfall far?"
Claire shook her head.
"Not far. If we leave at dawn we can reach it before noon."
"Then Rockfall it is." Ethan set his empty bowl aside. "Everyone rest here tonight. We move out early tomorrow."
After dinner the girls huddled together under shared blankets and—for the first time in days—fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Ethan and Kevin agreed on a watch rotation and leaned against a large tree to rest.
In the middle of the night Ethan woke to find Kevin sitting alone by the fire, head nodding forward every few seconds.
He reached over and shook the boy's shoulder.
"Go sleep."
"Ah—Sir—" Kevin yawned hugely, eyes glued half-shut. "I'm awake, I'm awake…"
Ethan shook his head. Far too relaxed. If the main raiding party returned in this state the entire group would be finished.
Still, he couldn't be too harsh. By any reasonable standard Kevin was still just a rebellious teenager.
"Go rest. Tomorrow's the last leg."
"Yes, sir… going now…" Another massive yawn. Kevin dragged a bandit's discarded blanket over himself, curled up near the fire, and within moments was snoring softly.
Ethan had no phone—no way to tell the hour.
He could only stare into the flames, letting the enhanced memory skill replay book after book he had once read.
After a moment he mentally selected *Don Quixote* and began rereading it in his head.
*Well… isn't this exactly the grand adventure Don Quixote always dreamed of?*
Only far crueler.
Thinking of the ruined village—and the three fresh corpses of two men and one woman lying nearby—Ethan felt a lump rise in his throat.
There was nothing more he could do.
He could only hope the rest of the journey would be less bloody.
As night slowly gave way to gray pre-dawn, Ethan chose a flat patch of ground near a large tree, picked up the miner's pickaxe, and began digging.
The rhythmic *thunk-thunk* of steel on earth gradually woke the camp.
Kevin rubbed sleep from his eyes and wandered over. He peered into the waist-deep hole.
"Sir… are you digging a grave?"
"I already guessed you'd ask." Ethan tossed the pickaxe aside. "The rest is yours."
Kevin immediately jumped in, rubbed his hands together, hefted the pickaxe, and said with surprising enthusiasm,
"Leave it to me!"
Ethan walked over to the stream where Claire was washing her face.
"Claire—we can't take your Aunt Amy with us. I've started a grave for her. Let her rest here. Is that all right?"
Claire's eyes widened. For a moment she didn't speak.
Ethan shifted, suddenly awkward.
"If it's not… I already started digging. I should have asked first—"
"No—no, sir!" Claire shook her head quickly, tears welling again. "I just… I didn't expect… I thought Aunt Amy would be so grateful you didn't leave her to rot in the open…"
"I already buried dozens from your village. One more makes no difference. She deserves a proper end."
He asked the girls to start breakfast while he and Claire gently moved Aunt Amy's body to the pit.
When it was ready, Ethan called Kevin over. The three of them filled in the earth and patted it smooth.
After a brief, silent moment beside the fresh grave the group packed up and left the raiders' camp behind.
They followed the muddy track Ethan had already walked—the main path villagers from the coast used to reach inland settlements.
Kevin walked point.
The girls stayed in the middle.
Ethan brought up the rear, leading the bound short-haired prisoner on a short rope.
Before they set out Ethan had spoken to the man very clearly.
"I'm taking you to the nearest village and handing you over to their garrison officer. If you're smart, tell them everything you know. You might live.
But if you try to run—even once—I'll give you three chances.
First chance: your left arm.
Second chance: your right arm.
Third chance: your life.
Understood?"
The prisoner hunched his shoulders and gave a weak, toothy grin.
"Sir, you've got me tied so tight I can barely breathe. How could I run? I'll keep these arms for later."
"Hm. At least your brain still works." Ethan patted the man's shoulder almost companionably, then tugged the rope and started walking.
After leaving the bandit camp they passed through dense forest and crossed several low hills.
Soon a patchwork of cultivated fields opened before them.
The wheat stood thigh-high—lush, green, thriving.
Several farmers were weeding when they spotted the approaching group. They straightened and stared.
"Uncle Unite!"
The red-haired girl—Jenny—broke from the line and ran forward. She threw herself into the arms of a tall, thin, middle-aged man, sobbing uncontrollably.
The man hurriedly wiped mud from his hands, wrapped an arm around her, and asked in alarm,
"Jenny, child—what's wrong? Who are these people?"
"Uncle… Mom and Dad… they're dead. Pirates killed everyone! Only a few of us are left. This knight—he saved us from the pirates. Hans, Dan, Ur… they're all gone… waaah…"
Seeing real family again, the girl—barely older than Kevin—finally broke. She wept without restraint.
Her grief spread like fire. The other girls began crying again too.
What hurt most was that—apart from one girl who had married into this village—Claire and the remaining two had no one left to run to.
Uncle Unite calmed his niece, stepped out of the field, removed his hat, and bowed deeply to Ethan.
"Sir Knight—thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my niece. May I ask where you hail from?"
Ethan had already prepared an answer during the long nights at the beach camp.
"My name is Ethan Cole, a knight from the Fingers Peninsula. My apprentice and I were traveling by ship from White Harbor to Braavos when a fight broke out. We were thrown overboard.
While searching for civilization we stumbled on a coastal village that had been massacred by pirates. On our way inland we found Claire being hunted by raiders and rescued the survivors. The girls can confirm the rest."
Unite looked toward the girls. Though he asked no questions, they answered in a rush.
"Uncle Unite—what Jenny said is true."
"Uncle Unite—is my sister home? Jane Benter—she married here."
"The pirates… the knight killed them all. Their bodies are still by the river in the forest."
With so many voices overlapping, Unite couldn't catch every word.
But the girls' unanimous endorsement was enough.
This passing knight was no pirate ally.
No one fakes a rescue this brutally.
He bowed again, deeper this time.
"Kind sir—may the Old Gods watch over you forever. Thank you for avenging my brother and his wife."
"Avenge?" Ethan gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not really. I only killed a handful of low-ranking stragglers left to guard prisoners. The main raiding party numbered over ninety. Even subtracting the ones I dealt with, at least eighty are still out there."
He tugged the rope. The short-haired prisoner stumbled forward and fell to his knees before the crowd.
"This is one I kept alive on purpose. Minor leader—knows a decent amount. I didn't press him for details. Do you have a garrison officer here?"
Unite's gaze sharpened as he stared down at the bound man. His voice dropped low.
"No garrison officer in our village—but we have several veterans who've seen real fighting. You can leave him with us without worry."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
*We?*
The honest, balding farmer suddenly seemed less simple. Those calluses on his hands might not all come from a hoe handle.
"Fine. Let's see what you can do with him." Ethan handed the rope end to Unite. "By the way—is there anywhere to rest in your village? We've been on the road for days. I'd like a proper bed."
Unite broke into a warm, welcoming smile the moment he took the rope.
"There's a small tavern—mine. The ale is homemade, rich and strong. Two rooms upstairs. Not fancy, but clean. You'll sleep well."
He waved over a boy who had been watching wide-eyed from the field edge.
"Alvin—go find your brother. Tell him the coastal village was raided by pirates. Only a handful of girls survived—they were rescued by this knight. Tell him to prepare food, quick!"
He gave the boy a light slap on the back of the head.
"Go!"
Alvin stumbled, then bolted toward the village.
By now more villagers—drawn by the crying—had gathered from nearby fields.
Those who lived closest had already heard the story second-hand and were retelling it in hushed, shocked voices.
When the full tale spread, the crowd sighed heavily. Several older women, eyes red, removed their outer shawls and wrapped them gently around the girls, guiding them aside with soft murmurs.
"This way, sir."
Led by Unite, Ethan and Kevin followed him toward the village. The growing crowd of curious villagers set down tools and trailed behind.
Just before they reached the low earthen wall that marked the village entrance, a dozen or so sturdy young men burst out—clad in mismatched leather armor, gripping warhammers, longswords, even pitchforks.
"Pirates! Where are the pirates?!"
Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly. His hand drifted toward his sword hilt.
*Did these idiots mistake me for one?*
Sure enough, the leader—a tall man in a horned helmet and boiled-leather vest—didn't ask questions. He simply charged straight at Ethan.
From Ethan's perspective the attack had decent power… but moved far too slowly.
Just as the hammer descended toward his head, Ethan took a half-step back, raised one gauntleted hand, and pushed firmly against the man's shoulder.
The attacker immediately lost balance, stumbled, and crashed face-first into the dirt.
"Abby, are you an idiot?!"
Unite—who had been walking just behind—finally reacted. He darted forward and kicked the dropped hammer out of reach.
"This is Jenny and the girls' savior—not a pirate!"
A tall, blond, bearded man who had been on watch nearby stepped forward, frowning.
"Unite—what in the Seven Hells is going on? Alvin came running saying pirates were attacking."
Unite rounded on the boy.
"Alvin—you little fool—come here."
The same child who had been sent running earlier shuffled forward sheepishly.
"Uncle Unite…"
"What did I *actually* tell you?!"
"You said… tell my brother pirates are coming… so he can prepare…"
Unite pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I said the *next* village was raided. A few girls survived—they were rescued. I told you to find your brother and prepare *food*."
The misunderstanding hung in the air like smoke.
Abby—who had just attacked Ethan—awkwardly picked himself up and slunk behind his comrades, toeing the dirt in embarrassment.
The blond leader removed his helmet and bowed low.
"Sir Knight—I'm terribly sorry. We were too hasty. Thank the gods you're unharmed. If you'd been hurt we couldn't atone for it even if you threw us all beyond the Wall."
Ethan exhaled through his nose.
What was there to say? Beat the man?
Better to appear magnanimous.
He shook his head.
"No harm done. I'm not injured. I heard you have a tavern? Buy me a drink and I'll call it even. I'd like to rest."
The blond man brightened.
"Ah—that tavern is mine. Name's Gabriel—Alvin's older brother. It would be my honor to serve you."
With the tension broken, Ethan and Kevin followed Gabriel toward a modest two-story building at the eastern edge of the village.
As the knight from afar entered the tavern, the crowd slowly dispersed—eager to carry the dramatic news home to their families.
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