"Bazu, will you tell the slaves to quit rocking the carriage so damn much?" complained High Clan King Vertulis as his forces made their way south in the direction of the war. "They're giving me whiplash from the way they keep slinging me about!"

Bazu snapped to attention quickly, taking out his lash and already starting to beat the men who carried the carriage. The profligate beatings did no good for Vertulis, and his carriage rocked even more as the slaves received the unexpected blows.

"Don't beat them right now, you idiot," seethed Vertulis. "Can't you see you're making it worse!"

Bazu turned white as his lash fell harmlessly to the side. "A thousand apologies, Your Majesty."

Vertulis shook his head and sighed. How desperately he wished to send the driveling idiot to the mines. It had been a couple days since they'd set out from Septhada, the king's entourage including most of his court as well as his Sciavo regiments that formed a protective ring around the inner group. Vertulis had almost forgotten the perils of Andalucian weather during the daytime, the sun beating down on his lightly-wrapped scalp with a fury he'd long since noticed. In the fortress of Septhada, they had ways of keeping the temperature down. Out here in the elements, he found himself missing the comforts of ruling.

At least he had the news of the war to keep him occupied. He'd found out about yesterday's defeat from his riders almost immediately after the engagement, with the Tur'hava Jack Easterbrook not only living to fight another day but collecting yet another clan into his swelling ranks. Vertulis ground his teeth. It wasn't just any clan that he'd claimed—it was his former clan, the Burlada, who had lost their clan chief, a distant cousin of his. It was only a minor distraction whenever Easterbrook took those smaller clans—the Numratha and the Muthada. The Burlada were different, powerful enough to throw their weight around. It was an injustice that he wouldn't let stand. Not as long as he was king, and it only added to his purpose to destroy Easterbrook.

Putting it out of his mind for now, Vertulis once more looked out the carriage window at his nearby entourage. He never left his fortress without the comforts of the palace, and all around him could be seen his servants, envoys, slaves, and even his whores. He intended to sacrifice nothing on his way to destroy Jack Easterbrook, no matter how long that might take him. However, it was one envoy in particular that caught his eye, and he quickly snapped his fingers to get his attention.

"Berimund, come join me in the carriage," said Vertulis, waiting as the gray-robed Swabian quietly climbed inside and sat in front of him.

"Greets, Your Majesty," said Berimund with a honeyed-tongue, innocent smile on his lips. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"For one, please pass along my thanks to your lord back in Swabia. I always have a need for funding, and I'm sure that will come in handy in the coming weeks."

"Lord Avila is happy to placate his own allies," said Berimund smoothly. "He always knew we'd be able to set reasonable accommodations with the Andalucian king."

"Are you in contact often with your lord? How often do you get messages back to him?"

"Often enough that he knows what's going on in Andalucia," said Berimund vaguely. "There isn't much that escapes his notice. He's very adept at reading the situations of his allies and his enemies."

Vertulis chuckled. "And what does he make of our situation?"

"He's watching it very closely. He doesn't privilege me with his opinions, but I do know that he's as committed as ever to securing our means of commerce that we've worked so hard to establish."

"Well, that's comforting to say the least," said Vertulis. "I wouldn't be able to do half of what I wanted without the assistance you're providing. It's just as—"

The king never completed his sentence as Bazu stuck his head inside the carriage. "Your Majesty, a rider has just appeared at the front of our column. He says that Jack Easterbrook wishes to surrender to you!"

Vertulis snapped to attention. "Come again? He wishes to surrender?"

Bazu nodded his head incessantly. "That's what he claims. He says Easterbrook is on his way towards you at this very moment. Not long after the battle ended, he surrendered himself to a group of Sciavo, and they are bringing him here as we speak. He claims he wants his surrender to end the war. Says he'll willingly be a slave if it means an end of hostilities."

Vertulis threw his head back and laughed. "So he wishes to quit after only a few battles? Perhaps I misjudged this man. To want to surrender that easily—he could never have been the Tur'hava. This is truly a great day. While I wouldn't mind getting my sword bloody with this man's guts, it never hurts to have a war end before you even arrive either."

"If I might ask, Your Majesty," interjected Berimund from in front of him. "What is to become of this Jack Easterbrook? What will you do with him? Kill him, yes?"

Vertulis shrugged noncommittally. "It matters not now to me what happens to him. Clan chiefs don't surrender. They forfeit their right to lead if they do so. To that end, he's no longer clan chief of any of the clans so he matters not to me anymore. I'll throw him down into the mines. He could last a long time down in there or not a long time at all. Either way, he's not my problem anymore."

Berimund nodded quickly while he listened. "Your Majesty, I hope you don't fault me for voicing my opinion, but I'm of the belief that this is a dangerous man. This Easterbrook has caused a lot of trouble in this part of the world, not just in Andalucia. Lord Avila knows of him and believes him to be a troublemaker. No doubt you would make my lord a very grateful patron if you were to serve him Easterbrook's head on a silver platter."

"It doesn't matter to me what happens to him," said Vertulis casually. "Make him a slave or kill him, I care not. He'll be in for a rude awakening though if he thinks he can just surrender to me to spare his life."

"Especially if you kill him on the spot when he might expect to just be enslaved," sneered Berimund. "Can you imagine the sight? He'll think he's forfeited his rights but soon finds a sword in his stomach. It will be a fitting end for such a troublemaker."

Vertulis started to chuckle. "I like the way you think, Berimund. I wonder if Lord Avila would be acceptable to sharing you from time to time. I could use servants who utilize their brains more often." The king cast an annoyed glimpse over to Bazu.

Berimund inclined his head. "Unfortunately, Lord Avila is most possessive when it comes to his assets, although your kindness is much appreciated."

"A pity," said Vertulis with a shrug. "It was worth asking."

"I think you'll find relations between yourself and my lord quite. . . elevated by the killing of Easterbrook," said Berimund. "And I'm sure he'll send much more gold your way for the accomplishment. As a way of saying thanks."

"We could always use more gold," said the king covetously. "Fine, it's decided then. We'll not enslave Easterbrook when he arrives. We'll kill him on the spot instead. I'll have my men remove his head from his shoulders as a gift to my dependable Swabian ally in exchange for a chest of gold crowns? That's fair, wouldn't you say?"

Berimund seemed to struggle to retain his complexion. Vertulis knew he was asking for a small fortune by any standard, a price completely inflated for one man's head, no matter how much of a nuisance he was.

"I will . . . have to run that by my lord," said Berimund noncommittally. "Such a sum will be hard to come by."

"Not for the man who runs half the mines in Swabia," said the king with a lighthearted chuckle. "I'm sure if he wants Easterbrook that badly, he'll be more inclined to open his pocketbook."

Berimund's face turned sour for a brief moment before he resumed his more neutral expression. "I'll see what I can do."

Vertulis didn't respond, simply rubbing his hands together with excitement. The war was nearly over, there'd been little bloodshed from his own troops, and now he was going to get a small fortune from the head of the dead man soon to be walking into his camp.

It's good to be the king.

*****

Not far from the king, but still in earshot, was Kat. She gripped the metal bars of the mobile slave pen so tightly that her knuckles had long since turned white. Not only was she extremely hot from the extra layers of clothing covering her head and her hair—necessary as soon as she saw the Swabian to prevent him from recognizing her, but now she had to listen in great detail as the king and the envoy discussed their intent to double-cross Jack.

Her heart ached with sadness. It had felt like so long since she'd seen him for that brief moment in the king's fortress almost a week ago—when he'd promised her that he'd find a way to get her out. And now, if what she heard was true, he was surrendering. As soon as he was here on his knees, they would kill him.

Kat shivered at the thought of harm coming to him. Not with whom she believed him to be. Not with what his destiny was for the peoples of the Vector, including her own. Jack had to live or else everything was lost.

But what could she do? How could she get word to him that they intended to kill him?

She rattled the bars of the pen helplessly, regretting her decision to separate from him so easily. None of this would have happened if she hadn't taken that ship out of Sorella and stayed with him. In that moment, she felt truly at blame for everything that had befallen them. And it would get even worse if something happened to him.

"Step away from the bars, girl," said one of the older whores as she whacked Kat's fingers with a hairbrush. Kat let out a small yelp and pulled away from the woman whom she knew as Lina, a whore who'd been with Vertulis the longest and had assumed a healthy degree of clout with the other girls. However, Lina always looked at her with disdain, a constant reminder for Kat to never let her guard down.

She scampered away from the rest of the girls into a quiet corner of the pens, before looking once more at the king's carriage. The Swabian envoy had already left, leaving the king to take a reclined nap against the back side of the vessel. She felt truly helpless in that moment. Her only asset to attempt to right the wrongs—her voice—was the one thing she couldn't use lest someone find out who she really was.

Kat had never felt more alone or more powerless.

*****

Luke was getting agitated.

Or perhaps annoyed was a better expression. He couldn't help but sigh continuously as the Valiant spent yet another sortie alone in the open ocean. Well, not technically alone, as he still had the Stardust and a few destroyers with him, but it was a much smaller force than the one that had engaged the Occitanians over a week ago.

Since that fateful day, no signs of the enemy had been seen. It was almost like the Occitanian force had completely disappeared. At least, they had fled from the waters around Quiller's Cove, and not a sight of them had followed since. It wasn't from a lack of trying either. Every day their forces had split up in different directions, searching out the enemy fleet with no success. And every day, they returned to base with nothing to show for it, the enemy force having long since left.

Luke knew exactly why. The attacks and stalking of Quiller's Cove had been nothing more than bait. Intended by the Occitanians to draw off the majority of their forces while they slipped into the Vector, the plan now put Jack's forces in a high amount of danger. Everything that they'd accomplished since entering the Vector months ago could be undone by a crafty commander, and every second spent delaying the repatriation of their forces with Jack was time lost.

If it were up to him, Luke would have sent every ship under Admiral Reynolds' command to link up with Jack over a week ago. However, despite Luke's promotion to commander, that remained out of his area of authority. He still had to do what he was told, and on yet another useless sortie, that fact rankled him to no end.

"You're so restless right now," said Kim to his side. "I can feel your tension even sitting several feet away from you."

"I think I have good reason to be," growled Luke. "This is such a waste of our time."

"I know it is," she conceded. "But we can't go against direct orders. You know how the admiral is."

"But surely he has to see by now that the threat to this area is gone," said Luke. "The Occies have left! And I'm sure they're not going back to their homeland with the busted lip we gave them. They had enough ships to continue on and be a threat to Jack. It just kills me to continue sitting on the sidelines."

Kim nodded wordlessly as she moved closer, her hand drifting to his back. She caressed him lovingly as she had many times before, offering a degree of support to her frustrated lover. Luke appreciated her touch, the only person alive who could get him to simmer down with the simple feeling of her fingers.

"You must think I'm a terrible hothead," he said finally, turning his pleading eyes toward hers.

"Not at all," she said softly. "I think you're one of the best of men. I know your frustration, and believe me, it's shared by me and the rest of the officers. Just what are we to do about this?"

"Surely Reynolds has to see by now this is pointless," said Luke. "Perhaps I can convince him. I doubt he'll willingly release the ships but perhaps I can get him to go along with us?"

"Then it would be Reynolds' mission, not Jack's," said Kim. "He outranks him handily."

"True, but it might be the only thing that would appeal to his ego enough to let us leave this useless mission, Kim. Maybe if we can convince him he can find glory and action in the Vector, he'll be more willing to come along."

"How would you want to approach this?" asked Kim while she bit her lip. "I don't think it will be easy for you to convince someone so high up in rank on your own."

"I'm not sure. Do you think the commodore will help us? Lucas seemed to think it wasn't a bad idea to let some ships go back with Jack right after the engagement last week."

"I think Commodore Lucas is an intelligent man, and I think he'd be likely to help you," said Kim with an unconfident shrug. "But will he? What's to make him put his neck out for us in direct contrast to a superior?"

"I think Lucas will do the right thing. I think he'll see that us sitting out here and twiddling our thumbs is not the best thing for Java right now," said Luke firmly. "Perhaps if we can make Reynolds see some sense, it'll be our best way out of here."

Kim nodded and then leaned in to hug him. "I'll support you the best way I know how."

Luke smirked. "I might need you to start praying. I don't think we have much of a chance to get this through even with Lucas' support. But I feel like we have to try. I don't want to continue doing this waiting without knowing I did everything I could to get back to our mission."

"Do you want me to see if I can get a meeting scheduled for all of us? I can radio the commodore and request a meeting tonight once we get back to base?"

Luke nodded his head. "That would be great. Hopefully yet another day of seeing nothing will put Reynolds in an agreeable mood. If you can get something set up, I'd appreciate it."

She offered him a quick kiss. "Let me see what I can do. I'll also send a heads-up to the commodore with what this will be about. That way, he won't be caught off-guard. We'll need all the help we can get!"

*****

"Absolutely not. No way, no how. I forbid it."

Admiral Reynolds slammed his fist against the table in an act of finality before shaking his head from side to side causing Luke to let you a small sigh. It was after hours and only about thirty minutes since the task force had docked back in Quiller's Cove. Kim had done a great job of looping Commodore Lucas and the admiral together, meeting at Lucas' headquarters that evening. By a quick glance at Lucas' face, he seemed to have expected the admiral's sudden outburst.

"Sir, if you would just let me explain my rationale, I'm sure it would make sense. Can I just have a few moments to explain?" asked Luke.

Reynolds rolled his eyes. "It's the least amount of courtesy I can afford another officer but don't think you'll be able to convince me. My mind is made up on this subject."

Luke nodded and chose his next words wisely. "Sir, I know that the threat to Quiller's Cove was the most pressing matter at the time of the creation of this task force, but I firmly believe that the impetus for its creation has now passed."

"And how do you figure that, Commander? Have you seen any Occitanian battle plans? Intercepted any messages? How do you figure?"

Luke flinched. The way that Reynolds worded his phrase made it sound accusatory in nature. It also made him feel about ten inches tall.

"No, sir. I just see that we keep going out day after day and finding nothing. I believe that the Occitanians were sent here for a single purpose – to make us concentrate our forces in an area of the ocean that's of little importance to them."

"It's a very important spot, Commander. Whoever controls Quiller's Cove controls the entrance into the Vector. It's a highly strategic spot that could be devastating if we lost it."

Luke gulped. "It used to be that strategic, Admiral."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, before we adopted the polonium boilers, we needed to have Quiller's Cove as a refueling and resupply station. With the polonium lasting so much longer now, it takes off one half of that need for us. Not to mention, we've developed our own allies in the Vector, meaning we don't need Quiller's as a resupply point now anymore either. It's not as strategic as it once was."

Reynolds' face split into anger as Luke kept talking. Finally, the admiral closed his eyes. "Just because you do not see the need for us to be here doesn't mean it's not a strategic spot."

"That's not what I'm saying. I can understand why we're here and why it's important to defend Quiller's, but I think the threat has moved on. If the Occitanians go after Jack in the Vector, they'll erase everything we've worked so hard to accomplish."

"Luke, I can understand your frustration on that," said Reynolds. "But you're not the one that gets to decide strategy for our navy. You don't even get to decide our strategy for this task force. You're a commander, and you'll do as ordered. Leave the thinking up to other men who have more experience."

Luke had to grit his teeth in order to hold his tongue. He could feel his face turning red. Thankfully, the commodore interceded on his behalf.

"Luke does make an interesting point though, Admiral," said Lucas. "We've seen next to nothing in the past week. Who's to say the Occies haven't moved on?"

"I don't care if they did," he snapped. "My orders are to stay here. And I'm not splitting this task force just to go chase after someone's gut feeling. I won't move until the Admiralty tells me to, and that's all you can expect moving forward."

"But, sir, if we can—"

"Enough!"

Reynolds smacked his fist against the table once more and Luke could practically see the smoke billowing from his nose. He ceased any kind of argument and closed his mouth just as quickly.

"I will hear no more of this talk," said Reynolds in a quiet, controlled manner. "We will follow orders here. I don't care if that means we have to sit the rest of this war out in this small corner of the ocean, but I've heard enough of this. Luke, you are to go back to your ship. Lucas will take care of Quiller's Cove, and I'll lead this task force out every day until our orders say otherwise. Are we clear?"

Luke didn't respond right away, feeling at a loss for words at how this had turned out. He'd expected a strong reaction from him yet it was still a kick in the pants to receive such a severe rejection. Jack would have to wait. There was no way Reynolds would ever think outside the box or let them show any initiative on their own.

"We're clear," said Luke quietly.

"And you, Lucas?" asked Reynolds as he swiveled to the commodore.

"Clear as can be," answered Lucas although Luke detected a minor expression of annoyance on the man's face.

"Excellent," said Reynolds, his mood changing back to his usual neutrality. "Let's put it out of all of our minds and prepare to go back out tomorrow. Luke, you'll be with the Horton tomorrow for the sortie."

"Yes, sir," answered Luke glumly.

Reynolds gave one final nod and stood up from the table, quickly making his way to the door. Before he left, he stopped and looked back at both men. "Try not to be so gloomy, boys. There are a lot worse postings out there."

With that, the admiral turned heel and left the building, leaving the two of them to themselves. With the admiral leaving, Luke saw no reason to linger and went to push up from his seat a moment later. However, Lucas raised his hand, gesturing for him to sit back down. Luke waited for several moments to see what he wanted, waiting until they heard the sound of the admiral leaving the floor.

"What a tight-assed shit he is," muttered Lucas finally, earning a genuine smile from Luke. "He has his nose so far up the chain of command that I doubt he can smell anything but shit."

Luke started to chuckle. "Thank you, sir. I really needed a good laugh after all of that."

"I think we all did. You raise a good point though, Luke, which is the only reason why I've kept you in the room. Reynolds chafes my ass and he has since he's gotten here. He's a by-the-book type of admiral, but then again, most of them are. I think that most of them lose whatever good sense they have left when they get that patch added to their outer jackets."

"I think I can see why Bancroft doesn't like you," said Luke with a grin.

The commodore started to chuckle. "There's a lot more reasons than just that, I assure you."

"As much as I hate to say it though, Reynolds is in command. It's not like I can just sail away back to the Vector," said Luke. "I'd be court-martialed and executed in under a week for something like that."

"Yes, yes, you would," agreed Lucas. "You'd have barely made the order before we'd be putting you six feet under. But Reynolds did bring up a good point though."

"What's that?"

"He'll do what he's ordered to do," said the commodore. "By-the-book admirals don't question orders. They follow them to the letter. And even as deep as he is up the Admiralty's ass, we can't forget that Bancroft's pet project is the one who leads in the Vector."

"Jack," whispered Luke.

"Exactly. Bancroft has spent so much time grooming Jack that he's unlikely to let him perish in the Vector if he thinks there is a credible threat to his force there. Don't get me wrong, I like Jack just as much as the next man, but you can't deny that Bancroft has been guiding his career. He's unlikely to part with him after all that time spent investing in him."

"So you're suggesting we get Bancroft to override Reynolds' orders," asked Luke. "That way, he has no option but to release his force to join Jack. He'll have to follow orders."

"Precisely," said Lucas as he reclined in his chair. "I don't think it will take much to convince Bancroft, but it does run into one tiny problem."

Luke frowned. "What's that?"

"The man hates me," said Lucas with a chuckle. "If I suggest this to him, he'll do the opposite of what I suggest just out of spite. I can't be the one to give him the idea."

"Who else could do it though? Does anyone else on the island have rank above the individual ship commanders besides you and Reynolds?"

Lucas shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Him and I are the highest ranking officers on the island. If you want this to go to Bancroft, you'll have to make the request yourself."

Luke pursed his lips. That was a daunting proposal. It wasn't that he didn't know Bancroft, it's just the only time he met him was upon his graduation from the academy. He hardly suspected that five minutes worth of chatter after receiving a diploma warranted remembrance fifteen years later. Despite Jack being in his class, his comrade received much more attention from the older officer, and he had guided his career ever since.

In that way, it couldn't have been Luke either. What he was asking was a way to go around another officer's orders, and he couldn't make that request from the head of the navy with whom he had no personal relationship. Such a request could only come from someone who had a layer of trust established with the man already. Someone who could count on confidentiality even if the request was denied. Someone that Bancroft relied on.

"I can't do it either," said Luke finally before breaking out in a grin. "But Jack can. I can get word to him this evening. Bancroft has nearly acceded to every other request Jack has made. If anyone could do this, I'm sure it would be him."

Lucas started to nod. "I figured you might say that. It's the smart choice after all. Why not get the star protege to beg for the reinforcements? This task force is the closest force to Jack so any support that's needed quickly would have to come from us. Bancroft will be more willing to listen then."

"I'll have a message sent out as soon as I'm back on the Valiant," said Luke. "Although we should agree that this idea didn't come from us. We shouldn't speak of it again, just in case word gets around. Reynolds is still an admiral after all, and he outranks us. If he found out about this, he could still make enough trouble for the both of us."

"Found out about what, Luke?" the commodore asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I quite agree with you that we shouldn't speak of this again. I would also suggest to you after you send the message out to Jack that you delete the transcript. You know as well as I do that the admiralty keeps logs. You'll want to cover all bases."

Luke nodded his head excitedly. "Will do. I'm glad you said something about this today. The situation looked hopeless until he left the room."

Lucas let out a long sigh. "As much as I hate to be the one to have to side with Bancroft, I think you raise a valid point. The danger here has passed. It's time to get these ships out where they're needed the most."

"I fully agree with you, sir."

"Are you so eager to get back out there, Luke? I know of a lot of officers who would be happy being away from harm. Who would enjoy spending out the war without the daily threat of death. Are you really this gung-ho to go back to the Vector?"

Luke nodded emphatically. "I feel like that's where I belong. We're doing good work there, and it's starting to pay off. Plus, I'm not one of those officers you described. I belong where the action is. I always have and always will."

Lucas started to chuckle. "I could tell that right away. Good luck with your message tonight. And remember, don't forget to erase the transcript!"

*****

"Wrap his hands together. Make sure he's restrained so he can't try anything," grunted the Sciavo guard, issuing the orders to the men in front of Jack.

Jack felt the rough, gritty binding wrap around his wrists in an erratic and jerking fashion, only looking up as the Sciavo finished, his leer worn prominently on his lips.

"That should do it. You're all mine now. It's off to see the king with you now, foreigner."

The last word came out much like a curse word to the Andalucian warrior. Jack bowed his head, as he looked around the camp. How his fortune had changed since just last evening.

The frightening part was that it had all been done by his own will.

Jack turned to look back at the camp of his small army, still sheltered on the peninsula, the front lines looking so minuscule in the distance. He was so far away that he could barely make out the sight of the Destiny off the coast, although he knew the true reason for that. The enemy clans had been so threatened by the large ship that they had pulled back into the interior after the battle. He'd only reached their lines after about an hour of trekking through the sands.

Of course, that was after a night of both Abigail and Vera begging him not to do this, not to surrender himself to the forces of the Andalucian king. Their arguments were mixed with enough logic to give them weight, but it was only after he found counterarguments to their points that the emotion started—the tears and the pleas to stay. It hurt him to have to make them suffer in that way yet this was the only way to escape their current situation in Andalucia. It was one last gambit designed to see them through this ordeal before the weight of the opposition completely crushed them.

And the odds were heavily against his favor. Jack had no idea what Vertulis might do once they caught up with him. He just needed to be in front of the king for ten minutes, an audience of that length would suffice. However, if he was deemed expendable before then, this whole stratagem would fall apart. It wasn't a comforting thought that his entire mission, the life of Kat and even his own, rested on the whims of an erratic sovereign.

The binding around his hands was tied around the back of another Sciavo, preventing an easy chance of escape. Jack slowly baked in the hot morning sun as the elite warriors prepared to depart, leaving the other clans to keep his forces penned against the coast while they delivered him to the king. Suddenly, his hands were yanked forward without warning and Jack almost landed face first into the sand, causing a hearty round of laughter from the nearby Sciavo.

He pushed off the sand in front of him and followed them along tentatively. The Sciavo moved without many of the creature comforts of the other clans. They moved quickly as a force, their pace nearly double that of the clans. At first, Jack found it not hard to keep up with them as he had plenty of energy. However, they only gave him enough food to keep him on his feet, and as the next couple days slipped by, he found it harder and harder to match their pace.

They made their annoyance known in various ways. Several times when Jack could barely keep his eyes open, they would yank the rope and launch him into the sand. Most of the incidents would happen after nightfall though, when the Sciavo stopped for resting. One guard in particular that watched over him had quite the cruel streak. Jack didn't have the privilege of sleeping in a tent, often left out in the sand wherever they had stopped for the night. The guard that was assigned to him for the first two nights would often wait until he'd just about fallen asleep before delivering a startling wake-up kick to the ribs.

The first few times it happened, Jack howled in pain yet it only seemed to make the situation worse. His cries of pain only disturbed the other nearby Sciavo who were also trying to sleep, often taking their frustration out on him. After the first couple times it happened, Jack learned to muffle the pain and absorb the punishment. Surely it couldn't be much longer until they arrived in Septhada to the court of the king.

The only thing that got him through the day was the thought that at least hostilities seemed to have stopped since his surrender. He was lucky enough to listen to all sorts of snippets of conversation between the guards, most of them detailing the standoff with his forces on the coast. As long as they stayed put on the peninsula, they were safe behind the barrels of the Destiny's guns. Yet, Jack knew they couldn't stay there forever. Sooner or later, something would have to give.

In other quiet times, he thought mostly about the people in his life. Often about Abigail, or Kat, or even Vera. He hoped that Abigail and Vera would be able to forgive him for his decision, especially if it didn't work out the way he hoped. He hoped Kat was still doing well and still hanging on. More than ever, he felt the promise he made to free her. He just hoped it was one promise he could keep.

On the morning of the fourth day of travel, Jack became aware of the Sciavo column stopping not long after they had started marching. He lifted his eyes to the northern horizon, seeing a small entourage in front of him, all dominated by a garish, black carriage right in the center. The size clearly indicated that someone important was inside.

Upon his noticing, the malicious Sciavo guard not far away from him started to laugh. "There's the king right there, foreigner. I hope you're ready to face your fate."

Jack gulped. I hope I'm ready too.

*****

The blonde would still not pay attention to him.

No matter how long High Clan King Vertulis leered in the direction of the mobile pen of whores, she would still not look his way. He cleared his throat loudly, once more trying to draw her attention his way, and he got more angry when almost every other whore looked his way.

Ever since that blonde bitch had arrived in the harem, she'd been content to ignore him. Vertulis doubted that he'd ever held eye contact with her. She always seemed lost in her own world, a pitiful look worn prominently on her face. Vertulis had his suspicions why, none of which really mattered to him. All that did matter was making sure she was trained enough to be a capable whore for him. Even in his moment of annoyance, she was still looking quite sexy to him.

"Bazu," barked the king. "The blonde whore over there. Is her training complete? I'm about ready to sample her wares."

Bazu squawked about like he always did. "N-nearly ready, sire. She's proven to be most disagreeable though. She'll barely talk. She's a haughty one, that's for sure."

"I don't care," said Vertulis as he leered at her from his carriage. "Look at that body. That long, blonde hair and those hips. She's got a body for fucking, and I want her. If your men can't break her then maybe I can."

Bazu wiped sweat from his brow. "I can see if they can make her available tonight for you, Your Majesty?"

"Do it," said the king as he reclined in comfort. "I've waited too long to drive my cock through her warm, wet hole."

Bazu ran along to complete the order while Vertulis grinned to himself. Not too much longer until I get a chance to sample that blonde cunny. I'm looking forward to it.

For the next thirty minutes, Vertulis busied himself with matters of state until he became aware that his caravan had stopped moving around midmorning. The king peered ahead of the group, seeing several figures in the distance who were the reason for the delay.

"What's going on up there? Go find out," said the king to a nearby Sciavo. The warrior soon bounded forward to join the ranks of his brethren in front of him, only bringing back news about ten minutes later.

"Your Majesty, it's Jack Easterbrook," said the Sciavo, with an excited point.

Vertulis grinned. "It's about damn time they caught up to us. I've been expecting him. Prepare my tent. I want all the comforts of home ready for me before I receive the prisoner. Only send him in once you hear my signal."

The Sciavo nodded and quickly set about his tasks. Vertulis stepped out of the carriage to wait while a small army of servants set about putting up his travel tent, a grand affair that reached high into the sky, with many roomed partitions and a grand entrance hall, fitting of his royal presence. Even though he wasn't in his fortress, he still wanted to impress upon Easterbrook the majesty of his person and the insignificance of the foreigner's life. Especially one that had brought so much turmoil to Andalucia.

While Vertulis was pacing, he caught sight of Berimund not too far away from him and beckoned him over. "You must be pleased to know that Easterbrook has arrived. This is ending today one way or another."

Berimund grinned and bowed his head. "Such a fitting end for one who has caused so much trouble. I take it you still plan to end his life?"

Vertulis nodded. "I do. It won't be the mines for that one." The king stroked a very fine knife hanging from his robes. "Something quick and dirty. Fitting for his type."

Berimund smiled. "I'm glad we are on the same page with this."

"As am I, Berimund."

"May I be part of his presentation to you, Your Majesty? I'd very much like to see the end of this man."

"Rest assured, you'll get his head when I'm done with him," said Vertulis with a shake of the head. "But I'm afraid this is a state matter. It's already enough that I have one foreigner there, even if he is technically a clan chief. But I can't have any others."

Berimund looked temporarily dismayed but he recovered quickly. "I will await his head then when you are finished with him."

Vertulis patted him on the back. "Good man. I'll see to you afterwards."

In another half hour, the tent was fully raised, and Vertulis sat on a makeshift throne that he used exclusively for travel in his entrance hall while a small group of Sciavo brought forward the man who'd turned his island into a full war zone. Easterbrook was more tattered than the king remembered, his impressive uniform torn in several places and his flesh looking worn and dirty. Vertulis could tell from his eyes alone that he hadn't had proper sleep in days. He was a much less impressive man than the one that stood in his fortress almost two weeks ago.

"Well, Jack Easterbrook. What a different set of circumstances we find ourselves under, hmm?" Vertulis couldn't help but let out a lingering leer, watching as the foreigner's eyes settled on him finally. This was almost cruel. He liked to kill men in their prime, especially when they were at their strongest. Yet it was clear that Easterbrook was severely weakened. It wouldn't make his death as satisfying, making the moment bittersweet for the king.

"What, nothing to say now? No quips? You disappoint me, Jack," taunted the king. "I was hoping your capture would at least make for some entertainment."

"What do you want from me?" asked Jack with a cough. "I'm here now. The war is over. You can enslave me now if you want, but the only reason I did this was to stop the fighting."

"Oh, but the fighting has stopped. There's no more of it now," said Vertulis. "But I think it was just a matter of time until all the clans crushed you. You couldn't stand up to them for very long, despite how much you tried. I think your surrender only forestalled the inevitable."

To his annoyance, Jack shrugged. "It matters not to me now. If other lives can be saved by the sacrifice of mine, so be it."

Vertulis could have almost laughed at that statement. "Oh, but they won't be saved. I fully plan to crush what remains of your pathetic army even after today. The clans that you've taken will get new clan chiefs, and what remains of your forces will be ground to dust."

Jack's eyes flashed with anger. "For what purpose? It's me you wanted and you got me. Leave the rest of them out of it."

"I consider it retribution for all the trouble you've caused me," sneered Vertulis. "This doesn't just end with you today, but with anyone who thinks they can sow dissension in my land."

Vertulis hopped off his throne and approached his prisoner, taking a few circles around his prey. The few Sciavo around him pushed away, giving the king a wide berth to tease his toy before he killed him. Easterbrook barely noticed his movements, only fixing his eyes on him when he crossed his front. How easy it would be to plunge his knife through his back and take the last breath from his lungs.

"I had originally intended to throw you into the mines," said Vertulis as he continued to walk. "You wouldn't last long there. No one ever does. Then at least you could be somewhat useful to me. You could make me richer while you worked away the rest of your life. But fate has brought me to a different path, and as a consequence, a different path for you as well. It serves me no purpose to keep you alive. I wish you dead for the trouble you've caused me as well as my allies as well."

"Allies?" muttered Jack. "What allies?"

Vertulis grinned. "My Swabian allies of course. Surely you knew of my involvement with them, didn't you? Who else in the world could keep up with our rapid demand for slaves? They bring in slaves for me, and I pay them with gold that the slaves mine. Many of those payments get reinvested back in Andalucia, making me and my clan chiefs quite rich. It's a wonderful little arrangement, but you had to threaten that."

"I had a feeling this went deeper than just my arrival," said Jack weakly. "You've been targeting me since the moment I arrived in Andalucia."

Vertulis pursed his lips. "Not entirely, but once we got word from our allies of who you were, it was easy to make the decision. You see, Jack, my kingdom has enough cockroaches in it. Sometimes I think there's as many of those as there are grains of sand. And this is one that I'd like to be rid of myself."

Vertulis stopped in front of Jack and pulled the knife out of the scabbard at his side. Casting a glance at the Sciavo near him, he gestured for them all to back up. "Step away from him. He's no threat to anyone now. I want to savor this kill."

All but one of the Sciavo moved away from Easterbrook, and several of them left the tent as he commanded. The one that remained close to Easterbrook's side earned a scowl from Vertulis, and he vowed to deal with this man after the foreigner was dead.

As Vertulis stalked his prey, Easterbrook's eyes drifted away from his, closing in that moment to await the plunge of the knife. It was over for him now. He'd finally accepted his own impending death. All that remained was the blow to come.

Easterbrook was going to die.

*****

Jack closed his eyes, waiting for the slip of the knife between his ribs. He could almost hear the king's breath as he drifted closer, wondering if this was truly the end. Instead, the next thing he heard was a gasp from the king.

Vertulis had shuffled back from Jack at the last second as the Sciavo next to him had unsheathed his wicked-looking sword and held it aloft.

"What the hell are you doing?" barked Vertulis as he pulled away. Jack looked over as the Sciavo walked calmly over to Jack, cutting the rope that bound his wrists. Jack pulled it away freely as a look of steely determination filled his eyes. The Sciavo then placed the blade into Jack's hands, his grip settling against the handle.

"Traitor," boomed Vertulis as he shuffled back from them. "I'll have both of your heads for this! Guards!"

In response to such an allegation, the Sciavo simply shrugged and went to remove his protective head covering. As he unwrapped the fabric from his flesh, the long-familiar face of another man came into view.

Throwing the fabric on the floor, Greg let out a grin of approval. "Damn, that thing was hot."

Vertulis had turned pale. "Trickery! You've tricked my guards."

Greg shrugged. "It wasn't that hard. Your Sciavo keep themselves so wrapped up that it wasn't hard for us to steal the robes off a dead man and slip into the procession. I'll admit, it was hard to get into guard duty near Jack here, but well worth it once I was there. Sorry for all those kicks to the ribs, Jack."

Jack started to chuckle as he brandished the sword. "No apologies needed." He then pressed forward to the king.

"Guards! Come back in here at once!" squeaked Vertulis as he waved his sword around.

"You handle him," said Greg while pulling out his sidearm. "I'll take care of the other Sciavo."

As the sounds of gunfire began to echo throughout the tent, Jack approached the now wild-eyed king. Vertulis finally stopped retreating as a final look of rage appeared on his face. "I'll have you drawn and quartered for this trick! Everyone in Andalucia will know the fate of Jack Easterbrook and how he tried to deceive his king." Vertulis then lashed out with a flourish of his sword.

Jack parried the king's thrust easily, remembering his time spent with the sword in Sorella. However, Jack was no novice this time around, and Vertulis was no Daimanos. Despite all his perceived prowess with the weapon, the king couldn't help but swish it around like a helpless boy just learning the art of swordsmanship.

The soft years of kingship had stripped the king of most of his combat prowess.

"It's time for us to end this," said Jack quietly as he performed a quick slash with his wrist, only doubling back at the right moment. It caught Vertulis completely off guard and the blade quickly slashed against the king's dark-colored robes.

Vertulis let out a mighty howl, only audible between Greg's rapid firing. His wounded side now exposed and lacking strength to parry the next blow, the Javan commander slipped his sword a few inches below Vertulis' left breast, not stopping until the king's mouth fell open. Vertulis turned nearly white as he started to shake, the blade pulling free only with difficulty. The king clutched his wound with confusion as his fingers became stained with his blood. With one last look at Jack, Vertulis fell to the ground, dead upon arrival.

The magnitude of his death couldn't have been felt more instantly. Jack had barely turned around to look at Greg before the marine's firing completely stopped. The Sciavo guards who had been attacking up until that moment had ceased all movement, their eyes plastered to the fallen king. As one body, they assumed their knees in front of him, their heads soon touching the ground in front of them in a position that Jack was well-familiar with.

"High Clan King, it is our pleasure to serve you," said the hollow-mouthed Sciavo who had just been attacking them a moment before.

Jack turned to look back at the fallen king, his blood now pooling underneath his body. They'd done it. Vertulis was dead.

Greg seemed to echo his thoughts. "Is it over now? Are we safe?"

In an answer to his question, all the former servants of the king appeared in that partition of the tent, many of them piling in where they could find room. Jack looked around to see all sorts of pages, envoys, Sciavo guards, and others assuming their knees in front of him and cast him their allegiance.

"I think so," whispered Jack. "This is unreal."

"A prayer of good fortune to your health, High Clan King," said one young woman as she grabbed Jack's hand, placing a kiss against his skin. Others grabbed at the remains of his tattered uniform, many of them acting as if they'd never been in such a presence before.

"It's true. I always knew it to be true. You're the Tur'hava," said one of the sentries, his cheeks glistening with tears as he grabbed Jack's hands.

"The Tur'hava lives! The Tur'hava has come to fix Andalucian society!" yelled another nearby man.

"Bless the Tur'hava!" screamed several nearby girls.

"I guess this means you're stuck with that funny title," whispered Greg out of the side of his mouth.

Jack grinned. "I guess so. But I'm more amazed that this little gambit worked. Never had I thought we'd actually get close enough to kill Vertulis."

"I'm just surprised he wanted to do the killing blow himself. He seemed a little worked up once he found out that you would be equally as armed as he was," said Greg with a chuckle.

"Maybe now we have a real chance to help these people," said Jack as more Andalucians danced around him. "Maybe we can set things right once and for all."

"It sure would be nice if they'd stop fighting us at every turn," said Greg. "I don't know about you, but I could use a vacation."

Jack started to laugh. "I never thought I'd see the day when you were tired of war."

Greg shook his head. "Not tired of war. Just tired of this war."

Jack grinned as he looked back out to the crowd, his smile slowly dipping when he realized one face he didn't see. The face of the one person he came here specifically to liberate. He turned to Greg in a hurry.

"We have to find Kat."

*****

"Bless the Tur'hava! The Tur'hava lives! Long live the new king!"

Berimund stiffened as the cries rang out from the nearby tent of Vertulis, the blood soon draining from his face. It had only been a short while since he'd separated from the king, and he'd been eagerly awaiting the appearance of Jack Easterbrook's head as a sign of the final triumph. Yet, like the rest of the camp, his attention had been spiked by the sounds of gunfire. The Andalucians didn't use firearms, so there was only one explanation for the gunfire in the tent.

Easterbrook.

Berimund pulled out his own firearm and stalked closer as the rapid gunfire kept coming, the sounds of screaming filling the tent. But as abruptly as the noise started, it ended just as quickly. That's when Berimund heard the yelling.

"Long live the Tur'hava! Andalucia is saved! Long live King Jack!"

Pulling away from the tent, Berimund had to get away quickly. If there was a new king, it meant that Vertulis was in no position to help him any longer. Worse still, if the new king was Easterbrook, their plans were in serious jeopardy. He needed to get away. He needed some serious distance between himself and the new king.

Around him, the Andalucians in the camp faced similar conundrums as he at the sounds of cheering in the tent. The vast majority of them hit their knees as he fled away, their faces dipping to the sands in their version of homage. Berimund sneered at them. Fools. Changing allegiance at the drop of a hat to some foreigner who couldn't care less for them.

Others were more like-minded. A small cohort of Vertulis' former followers scattered, making for all directions as they used the nearby dunes to conceal their tracks. It wasn't like anyone else in the camp was off to follow them anyway. The celebration in the center tent was too strong of an attraction.

Berimund ran until he couldn't run anymore. Then his gait descended into more of a shuffle, his feet slipping into the sandy dunes below. Lord Avila would not be pleased with this turn of events. He wouldn't like the loss of coin that resulted from the Andalucian mines, no doubt to soon be put to an end by Easterbrook.

No, Lord Avila would not surrender the place so easily. Jack Easterbrook had not seen the last of the Swabians.

The fight for Andalucia wasn't over yet.

*****

"A prayer for your good fortune, Your Majesty," came yet another reply from someone Jack had never seen before. It was obvious the man was a servant in some capacity although it was still off-putting to be addressed in such a way when he was only a prisoner a half hour ago. It was something that would take some getting used to, although Jack couldn't yet tell if being the king of Andalucia was a desirable post or not.

It was something that he wasn't able to dwell on in the current moment. The only thing that consumed him was finding Kat. As Greg worked to organize the Sciavo to defend the camp, Jack searched around to find the whore pens. He doubted that Vertulis would have left his fortress without them, and surely they would have to be nearby. At least, he hoped they were.

"Long live the king," said a reverent girl no older than twenty as she performed a deep curtsy to Jack. Despite her dark-colored headgear, he could just make out her features underneath—short, dark hair and deep brown eyes.

"Ah, thank you," said Jack awkwardly, not yet figuring out a proper response to such a greeting. "Tell me, did Vertulis bring his whore pens with him to this camp? Or did he leave them in Septhada?"

The girl let slip a knowing smile. "Vertulis never went anywhere without them. You can find them just on the other side of the main tent over there." She pointed in the only direction Jack had not yet searched.

Jack thanked her profusely as he dashed away, no doubt leaving her thoroughly tickled at her first interaction with the new king. At that moment, Jack didn't care. There would be time to learn the proprieties of kingship later. For now, he had to release the person he came here for.

After he got to the other side of the tent, he found the slave pens. A mobile wagon, barred up on each side to prevent escape, sat in the sand and remained covered from the intensity of the late morning sun right above them. It was also the only wagon filled with women—desirable women at that. Jack gripped the outer bars, his eyes searching inside for the features he longed to recognize. At first glance, his search came up empty, not finding the mane of blonde hair that he'd expected.

"Can I help you find something, Your Majesty?" asked an older woman close to the entrance to the wagon. She was much more scantily dressed than those on the outside of the enclosure, and her lascivious smile was extremely inviting. "My name is Lina. How can I serve you?"

Jack looked back to the rest of the girls in the pen. "I'm looking for a blonde woman, about mid-twenties in age. She goes by the name of Kat."

The smile dropped from Lina's face as a scowl soon replaced it. Before she could respond to him, Jack heard the sound he'd been waiting to hear for weeks.

"Jack!"

He turned to look as a figure sat up near the back of the pens. She was heavily-covered but as soon as he heard his name, her pale fingers quickly pulled the clothing away from her hair, unleashing the blonde mane he'd been hoping to find. It was her.

"Kat!" He then turned to look back at Lina. "I need you to open this door."

Lina pursed her lips in disinterest as the metal bars that made up the door were unlocked, the enclosure opening with a loud creak as Kat made her way to the front. She quickly pushed off past Lina, nearly jumping into Jack's arms. He caught her with a small laugh as her hair fell against his face and her sky-blue eyes locked on his.

"It's you. It's really you, Jack," she said as her hands caressed his cheeks.

"I told you I'd come back for you," he whispered.

"I knew you would. I didn't know how you would but I didn't doubt you'd find a way."

"Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked.

Kat shook her head. "No, not in the slightest." She then turned to look back at the pens with a worried look. "Although I'll be happy to be out of there. I don't think they liked me too much in there."

"Vertulis is dead," he said, drawing her attention back. "Apparently, I'm the new high clan king of Andalucia."

For a moment, a look of disbelief crossed her face, as if what he told her was too fantastical to believe. Yet, that expression yielded after a few seconds, and a look of knowing confidence replaced it.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," she said finally. "I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that you were going to be important to all of this. I see that I'm not wrong."

Before Jack could respond, he heard one of the women in the pens clear her throat. Turning to look back, he saw Lina giving them both a disgusted look. "I'd hate to interrupt this, sire, but what are you to do with all of us now? Are you going to keep us on as whores or what?"

"Whores?" said Jack with a laugh. "No, I have no use for whores. You're free to go. Either back to your clans or to your homelands if you're not from Andalucia. I don't need a slave harem."

The expression on Lina's face changed. "You mean we're free? Are you certain? You don't want to think about it more?"

Jack chuckled. "I'm quite certain. You're free to go." With that move, he pulled open the bars further and extended his hand to Lina in an offer to pull her down. She eyed his hand warily for a moment before accepting it, her fingers warm to the touch when she finally did. With a quick pull of the hand, he helped her down from the enclosure as her feet hit the sand.

"I haven't been free in quite a long time," said Lina with a hint of a smile.

"Enough time has been stolen from you," said Jack. "Perhaps it's time for you to start living?"

One by one, each of the whores exited the enclosure. Many of them stopped to offer a prayer to Jack as the new king. A few of them set off right away, making for the nearby road to leave the camp. Some joined together in small groups, content for the friendship of the other whores made throughout the years. The majority of them were happy at finally having their freedom, now looking for a place to call home.

Even Lina wore a broad smile at the end of all of it, especially as another woman pressed against her side. "Thank you for our freedom, Your Majesty," she said before looking at the woman. "Nadira and I won't forget you."

It was obvious that there was something between the two women, and the looks they gave each other only confirmed it. "Go now and enjoy your lives," said Jack as he reached out to pull off the metal clasp from around their necks. Both women beamed as soon as the ugly metal hit the sand, walking away hand in hand.

"You're full of surprises today, Jack," said Kat with an amused giggle as he resumed his attention back on her.

"My life has been full of surprises since I got here, and most of them have been bad," he said as he reached out to undo her own clasp. "This should never have made it around your neck in the first place. At least I can finally set this right."

Kat rubbed the area of her exposed throat once it was gone. "I'd almost gotten used to it. You have no idea how amazing it feels to have it gone."

"It's just amazing to see you alive and well. It was hard to sleep thinking about you being here and in these conditions, Kat."

"Thankfully, my protector came to find me," she said with a grin before she wiped some sweat off of her brow. "Can we have some time to ourselves? I really need to get out of this sun."

A short while later, Jack had set the two of them up inside the king's tent, creating a partition for just the two of them. He'd grabbed several comfortable pillows to make a comfortable place for them to recline against, and soon Kat pushed into his arms as he wrapped them around her body.

"You have no idea how much I missed you, Jack," she whispered once they were finally secure and alone. "I thought about you every second since I last saw you."

"As did I," he said while caressing her hair. "I knew you were captured to be a slave from the beginning. The hardest thing for me to accept was that they'd make you a whore."

Kat locked eyes with him. "Some whore I turned out to be. I didn't have to do anything. Or anyone for that matter."

"Truly? How does that happen?"

"I don't think that condition would have lasted much longer," she said with a shudder. "But not just any slave gets to be in the king's harem. There's training that has to go on. I'd almost call it like a breaking instead of a training. They aim to create the perfect whores for the king, by teaching what he likes, his tastes, how to greet him. There's even a hierarchy for them. Long story short, I never had to lay with the king."

Jack wanted to let out a deep sigh of relief. He hated to even think about Kat being a slave in the first place, but being a whore was worse than anything else. No one should have such intimate use of Kat or her body in his mind. No one except me maybe, he thought silently. That's the part that had worried him the most. For a long while now he had thought that eventually Kat would be his. The idea of another man with his hands on her filled him with a torrent of rage. Knowing that it never came to pass was the best kind of relief.

Kat seemed to understand the range of emotions boiling below the surface. She reached up to caress his face once again. "Vertulis never had me, Jack. In fact, no man has ever had me."

His face filled with confusion. "None at all? Does that mean you're a—"

"It does," she said with a smile.

"Wow, I didn't have any idea," he said sheepishly. "I mean I thought you might of. With how gorgeous you are . . . and um, it just didn't seem right that you wouldn't have done it. I thought there'd be many who might have tried." He finally stopped talking, realizing he wasn't making much sense. To his relief, she started to giggle.

"You're so very cute when you're flustered," she said with eyes sparkling. "I haven't laid with any man, but I do have one in mind that I think I'll pick ultimately." She ran her finger along his jaw, her eyes glued to his to give no doubt to her meaning.

"Truly? You're sure about that?"

She nodded her head emphatically. "I'm sure. It's not the right time yet, but I know what I want. I know who I want. And that's you."

She bit her lips in such a way that couldn't hide her inner desire. Jack stared into her sky-blue eyes for several moments, feeling the intensity of their connection. Kat's feelings blazed like a bright beacon of emotion, and the vulnerability in her eyes had him quickly losing sight of everything else. His lips pressed down to hers with gentle eagerness, and her response was unquestionable.

She slipped her hand around his neck and pulled into his kiss desperately, moaning against his mouth while their tongues greeted like long-lost lovers. She turned her body so that she could press closer into his, her breasts rubbing against his chest as they sought the depths of each other's mouths. It was a moment of extreme passion and tenderness that only melted to resolute longing as the kiss went on uninterrupted.

Jack wasn't sure just how long they'd sat there kissing as time soon lost all forms of meaning. He gently explored Kat's mouth just like he'd wanted to do the entire time she was gone, and her soft moans of approval continued to beckon him forward. It was only a long time later that Kat pulled away from his kiss, her moans having stopped completely. When he opened his eyes, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What's wrong," he whispered softly.

"Jack, I'm so sorry about Vera," she said with a faint whimper. "When I got captured on the Swordfish, I was one of the first to be caught. I couldn't do anything to help her. I feel like she's now dead because of me. Because I let us be separated from you and go on that damn trading ship."

Jack held her closely, but he shook his head vigorously. "Kat, Vera's not dead. She's very much alive."

Her head snapped back to his. "Are you sure? She's alive?"

He chuckled lightly. "Vera's alive. She's back at our camp on the coast with the rest of my army."

"How though?" she asked with confusion. "The last I saw of the Swordfish, it was burning and starting to sink. She wasn't one of the women brought off the ship. How did she survive that?"

"We weren't that far behind you. We saw the Swordfish on the horizon as it burned and changed our course to intercept," said Jack. "We were able to pull her off the ship. She was only one of a very few who were still alive at the time. Despite some bumps and bruises, she's still with us."

"Oh, thank the heavens," said Kat as she pressed in a tight hug. "I was so worried about her. It was so chaotic that day on the ship. I feared I'd seen the last of her face."

"Now that this is over with, we'll have to bring her to us," said Jack. "If this war is truly over now, I can arrange to have my army meet us in Septhada."

"Your army?" whispered Kat. "How much has changed in these three weeks, Jack?"

He started to chuckle. "Quite a lot. I'm afraid it's a long story."

"Luckily for you, we have plenty of time," she said while once again caressing his jaw. "I really don't plan on leaving your side anytime soon."

"Good, because I wouldn't let you anyway," he teased in return.

She gave him a coy grin. "I can't believe you're the king of Andalucia. I knew that one day . . ." Kat stopped, clearing her throat before resuming her speech. "I mean, of all places to become a king, it's Andalucia. That was completely unexpected."

"For you and me both," said Jack with a laugh. "Maybe we can do some good here. There seems to be a lot of backwardness here in Andalucia. Perhaps this can be a good thing? We can set things right."

Kat started to nod eagerly as her hand slipped behind his neck. "I like that idea. Now, kiss me, my king."

Jack obeyed her order without any further words.

*****

In the days that followed, Jack had quite a bit of work carved out for him as the new king of Andalucia. The first thing that needed to be done was to get word to the rest of his forces on the coast. Thankfully for that, Greg had managed to smuggle his command radio under the robes he'd taken from the dead Sciavo warrior, and Jack was able to get the first message down to Abigail about their change in fortune.

"Thank god that plan worked," she said through the radio. "We were as nervous as could be with all this radio silence."

Jack started to chuckle. "That silence was necessary so that the Sciavo didn't find out that Greg had infiltrated their ranks. But all is well now. Come on up to Septhada with the rest of the army."

"What about the remaining clans in front of us? They still don't look too friendly just yet."

"Don't worry about them," said Jack. "I'll make sure they get word from me."

Thankfully with all the Sciavo now under his control, he was able to send a small group out to relay the ending of the war to all the remaining clan chiefs, including those that had once surrounded his forces. In that matter, Jack wasn't sure what to expect. He always found it discomforting the way Andalucians were able to pick up alliances with their former enemies within a split second, but would those that had fought him so hard truly be able to set aside their differences now? It was one thing he was eager to see how it played out.

It was clear though that Vertulis' death had sent out a shock wave throughout the land of Andalucia. The old king had been at the helm of this island for quite a long time. Many Andalucians had only known that man as their king. What was even more challenging for them was the new king was recognized as the Tur'hava, the one prophesied to unite the clans and change Andalucian society forever.

While Jack wasn't sure he believed all that nonsense about about prophecy, he knew that Kat did. And just like when they were back on Sorella, it appeared that once again, she seemed to hold back something from him. A knowledge of something that she just wasn't quite ready to share. Even though he made several half-hearted attempts to pry it out of her, it was clear she wasn't going to divulge it to him just yet.

Not that it would have made much of a difference for him in the moment—he had too much to occupy his time as the new king. Especially after they arrived back in Septhada to find two clan chiefs already waiting for him. As they assumed the knee in front of him and swore their fealty, Jack realized his life had changed greatly. More riders continued to slip into the fortress, all of them bearing messages from other clan chiefs as they wished him good fortune and pledged to arrive in Septhada soon enough to bend the knee.

He'd come to Andalucia to find a woman. Instead, he found a kingdom.