Three days later, the oversized warship limped into the undersized harbor of outset island. A tropical storm had just rolled through and left the inland jungle gleaming like an emerald left out in the sun. Little fishing skiffs flitted out of the way like swallows dodging an eagle while a cadre of islanders gathered on the main street. Weather Eye revealed their grim, frightened expressions, and their rusty boat hooks.

“It might be best if I go alone.” I mused.

“Not a chance” grumbled the dwarf. “I’m getting the hell off of this floating rat trap. Don’t try and stop me.”

“I’m not the one who’s arming up to try.” I pointed to the mob which was now lighting torches. “I know these people, let me convince them that we’re not raiders.”

“Hmph, I could take them apart by myself!” Zayne harrumphed.

“You might be surprised,” I said, thinking back on Frankie’s displays of strength when patrons got unruly in his tavern. “but it shouldn’t come to that. Don’t forget that you signed the contract. We’re not pirates, if you kill an innocent we will sell you to the coliseum.”

Zayne growled and put a hand on his scimitar’s pommel. Berta took a single heavy step forward, shaking the deck and causing him to reconsider.

The dwarf had taken the opportunity of the distraction to climb into the tender and grab onto a bench with his vice-like hands.

“Master Gurdrim, you’re not trying to shirk are you?” Captain Dortwalt asked pleasantly.

“Don’t be stupid boyo, I need to feel solid ground under my feet. I need soil between my toes. Some woodworking won’t keep me away from the Earth Mother when we’ve been separated this long. It’s an insult for you to even ask.”

The dwarf had been doing a masterful job of repairing the stairs and the hole in the middle of the deck with the limited resources on board even if he wasn’t happy about it. Whenever I passed I could hear him grumbling about soggy, rotting wood. He seemed to think building anything that wouldn’t last centuries was a waste of time. Even so, he was the type who couldn’t sit idle. As demeaning as it was for him to work with subpar materials, it was better than growing listless.

“You can land in the second wave” Dortwalt cajoled but he wasn’t having any of it. In the end, I had to take the cantankerous dwarf with me.

Berta helped lower the tender over the side and then surprised me by stepping into it as well, making the whole thing sink another foot into the water.

“Umm. I don’t know how to say this, but you are probably the most intimidating person on board. It might be better if you stay behind.”

“Tolor Witka keeps savior safe. This is.” She said plainly, like explaining to a child that the sky is up and water is wet. Her face reverted to stony impassivity. I sighed. Apparently this Tolor Witka thing was kind of like a wookie life debt. She wasn’t going to budge and I was still too scared of her to argue. That wasn’t fair of me, she took her gratitude too far and stood up for me on several occasions already but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she could snap me like a twig if I ever said the wrong thing.

Most of the crew treated her like a savage. She didn’t defend herself, maintaining a stoic shell despite the twinkling, laughing eyes and the deliberate, deep thoughts they sometimes conveyed. Here was someone who was supremely confident about their place in the universe. She didn’t need anyone else’s approval or understanding. That also meant that once she made a choice, there was no moving her. I found it frustrating even as my respect for her grew by the day.

So it was that a dwarf, a human, and a giant rowed to the docks. Well, Berta did most of the work. Her oars bent and groaned as she churned the waters into white froth while I favored my broken hand and Gurdrim didn’t help at all. We stopped about ten feet off the docks and I stood to shout.

“Frankie you salty sonnuvabitch! How are you holding up? Need any fish for your stew?”

The big cook put a hand over his brow and squinted, then he started laughing. He clutched his big belly and threw his head back, roaring his merriment into the sky.

“It’s the clown!” he finally exclaimed to the half-dozen confused islanders. I frowned. That wasn’t really how I wanted to be remembered but the islanders lowered their improvised weapons and relaxed slightly. We rowed the rest of the way to the dock and Frankie and I gave each other a back thumping embrace. Gurdrim pushed through the small crowd grumbling under his breath but Berta loomed behind me, eyeing the armed fisherfolk who definitely didn’t want to tangle with the giant woman. When Frankie and I parted, he looked up with a bemused smile on his face.

“Who’s this enchanting little mountain?”

“Frankie, this is Berta, Berta, Frankie.”

“Well met, friend of the savior.” She said, doing that crossed forearm salute again. Frankie raised an eyebrow.

“How did you end up with a Tolor Witka?” He asked breathily, eyes wide.

“It’s a long story… if you call off your militia, the rest of my crew could really use some shore leave.”

“Hah! You don’t have to worry about these layabouts. They wanted to run for the hills when they saw Berta! Come! Have some stew and tell us all about it. Things have been too dull ever since you left.”

I raised a hand and launched a mana bolt into the air, signaling that it was safe to come ashore. Frankie smiled and shook his head before putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me up to his shack. The rest of the islanders packed into the tavern and even the fishing skiffs returned to see what the fuss was about. I regaled them with exaggerated tales between spoonfuls of Frankie’s rich fish stew. I was still pretty beat up from all the fighting and the islanders treated me like a conquering hero. It was the first time I had told my own story and It went to my head a little bit. I found myself basking in the admiration of the islanders. As I spoke, more and more of the crew filed in and I realized from their eager interest that I had never told them the whole story. I was too busy sorting out our business plans in the last few days to do any real barding. Eventually, the crowd spilled out the door and gathered by the windows and larger cracks in the walls. They cheered and gasped at all the right moments, and a few of the more excitable ones even acted out some parts or shouted in some extra details I hadn’t been around for. When the story finally wound down everyone wanted to know what I was going to do next. It wasn’t too hard to get them to agree to my requests.

I’d be setting up a base of operations on the island. It wouldn’t start out as more than an infirmary where Liam could properly care for the injured crew members, but the islanders were excited to be a part of the story and welcomed the strangers. After an hour or two of back clapping and passing up congratulatory drinks, I managed to slip away leaving the crew and islanders to mingle.

Berta and the remaining survivors from the penal colony followed me back to the docks where a tender had been filled with long tubular sacks. Together, we lifted the boat and carried it up the hill. There was a small glade of knee-high grass at the peak allowing for a panoramic view with more hills to the west and open water to the east. The dirty little harbor town was hidden by the folds of the land. It was perfect, pristine, and yet, somehow not good enough. It would have to do.

We lowered the boat to the ground. It tilted to the side on its hull but didn’t spill its contents. Everyone took up a shovel without comment and began to dig. I couldn’t do much with a few broken fingers but that didn’t stop me from joining in. For every jolt of pain, for every time I strained my back or heaved another breath, I felt alive. I reveled in the pain and the effort as I let myself get caked in dirt and sweat. When my hole was as deep as I was tall, I stopped and sat down. The smell of cool, fertile earth filled my nostrils. I was the hero. I was living the dream. So why did I feel so empty? I took one more deep breath and let Berta help me out of the hole. Everyone else was finished but they were waiting for my lead. I stepped up to the boat again. The smell was getting terrible but we were almost done.

“A few weeks ago, we were all dead. We breathed, and we labored but we didn’t live. The empire took that away from us. If it wasn’t for the brave sacrifices of these men, that might still be true.” I turned from the bodies and addressed the somber living. “We survived, but that doesn’t mean that we have to leave them behind. We can honor their sacrifice by speaking their deeds with free air in our lungs. Let us speak, hear, and remember.” I lapsed into silence, letting each person speak about the dead, remembering a joke, or a quirk, or a simple kindness, but most often, remembering some action that saved them from death. Everyone had something to say about Jordy. Even when he was part of the gang, he never went beyond threats. When he had a shield in hand, he used it to protect those around him, ultimately taking an axe in the chest while protecting Cutter. When Cutter laid him in a grave, no one seemed to notice the tears falling to pat loudly on the wrappings.

When we were down to the last body, I choked. It took me three tries to force the words out.

“I remember Bodrin. He was a good man who was dealt a bad hand. He is the reason we stand here today. Without him, I would have been content to rationalize away my participation in the slave trade. His loss and his humanity touched me when I was growing callous. His words convinced me to free him, and resulted in all of our freedom. I remember how he saved my life from that gang-leader, from the guard-captain, and his choices let us survive the pirate ship. He was the heart and soul of our team, he was the best of us, and he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

I stepped back and let my eyes burn as every single person assembled added some words of their own. Even Berta joined in.

“When Bodrin find me. He was not scared. Everyone scared of Berta, not Bodrin. He had soft eyes. Kind eyes. He returns now to bosom of the earth mother.” She clasped her hands and bowed her head “May she grant peace in his next life.”

I personally lowered Bodrin into his grave and we stood silently for a minute before refilling the graves with dirt. We surmounted each mound of dark earth with a large stone and anointed each one with deep red wine, taken from the pirates’ stores.

The freemen left singly and in pairs until only Berta and I remained. The sky turned a deep purple as I thought about the people I had gotten killed. No matter how many times I told myself that leaving them on the island would have been a death sentence, and no matter how many people thanked me for their lives and freedom, I couldn’t shake that feeling of guilt. What was the point if I ended up getting two or three people killed for every one I managed to save? Eventually, Berta broke the silence.

“You, sad?” she asked “Why is?”

I glared at her. “Weren’t you paying attention? I got all those people killed. I’m not a hero, I’m a monster. These are just the people we didn’t throw into the sea like garbage!”

She smiled down on me in a matronly, knowing way and I pricked even more.

“Silly savior. People die, this is. You can not change this, but you not monster. Monsters kill, you care. The crew, they see this. They see burial. They see tears.” she bent to wipe a tear from under my eye with surprising gentleness. “You not so bad, just little. Do better. This is all.”

With that, she stood, slung the empty boat over her shoulder, and tromped away through the trees leaving me alone to wrestle with my thoughts. It was a back and forth battle which lasted all night and left me feeling like a wrung-out rag by the time the sun started peeking over the horizon but my mind was settled. This was a fight worth fighting. Despite all the death, I had given almost eighty people a second chance. The empire would keep chugging along, taking and abusing innocent people, but the empire wasn’t something I could beat with isolated raids. My little rebellion was hardly an inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. If I really wanted to shift the balance in this world, I’d need a different strategy and a lot more resources. I’d need to take a long-term view. As cathartic as it was to try and save those slaves, you can only do so much when you’re alone.

I stood, brushed off my soiled pants and looked out over the shimmering water reflecting the sunrise, making it look like the entire sea was on fire. Deciding on a whim to head to my old stomping ground for a swim, I made it about halfway down the hillside before the earth under my feet shook and gave way. I scrambled even as I fell underground in a cascade of dirt and rocks. When the clattering stopped I could hear something else, a lilting song sung in a gravelly voice.

“Dolamite, Cuprite, Calverite and Bauxite. What type of Hematite are you? Huhuhu! Lanky fools they war for ore but gurdy knows where there’s much more, waiting to be found in the quiet underground!”

I pulled myself out of the small landslide and into complete darkness. After gathering some mana in my palm, the darkness grudgingly retreated. An unnaturally flat stone floor stretched out beneath me for nearly thirty feet before ending abruptly. Edging forward I peered into the abyss beyond my ledge. I found myself uncomfortably high up in the air and Gurdrim was glowing with a radioactive-green aura far below. He was also doing a funny kind of dance accompanying the song. The enormous cavern almost looked like an underground opera house with tiered balconies around a central clearing. What stopped my breath was the way the earth danced with him. Massive swaths of it flowed with each sweep of his arms, briefly resembling liquid before locking back into place. Each of his shuffling steps caused a pillar to shoot out of the ground providing support for the growing cavern. As I watched the dance wound down and the dwarf stood with his hands on his hips, admiring his handiwork. That’s when he noticed me.

“What the depths do you think you’re doing barging into a construction site! Get out!” He stomped like he was throwing a tantrum and the earth surged, spitting me back out onto the hillside. I broke out into a smile and started laughing. I had barely scratched the surface of this world and I was thinking of calling it quits? My hands might be bloody, but that didn’t make them useless. I’d just have to roll up my sleeves and get to work until all that blood is wiped away.