Zachary took his leave of Karigan in a considerably better frame of mind than he had been in when he first arrived at her house. He had Stevic G'ladheon's permission to court Karigan. On top of that, Mender Brigand had examined Karigan and declared that she would make a full recovery. Things seemed to be heading in a positive direction. Of course, he still had to convince the Lord Governors that the match was in the kingdom's best interests, but that prospect scared him much less than talking to Stevic had.

They stopped an inn so they and the horses could rest. The inn boasted a warm meal with each room, and Zachary gratefully took the bowl of soup the kindly innkeeper offered. He was still wearing the uniform of the Sacordian militia with no mark of his rank, so no one gave him a second glance as he sat at a corner table eating. Two of his Weapons, also in the garb of the militia, sat at a table nearby. They watched the room carefully as they conversed.

"Yes, that is what I heard. The king has still not returned from the Wall," a nearby man remarked, drawing Zachary's attention to their conversation. "Everything has been very hush-hush, but he has not been in Sacor City for over a season, so there is obviously something going on. Some say he has disappeared into Blackveil."

"Come off it, Yaric, what would the king be doing in Blackveil?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure."

"I think your sources are wrong. The king's a good man. He wouldn't be messing around with dark magic." Zachary smiled to himself when he heard his defender's impassioned words.

"Be that as it may, he still left without an heir which means if he doesn't come back, he's doomed us to another civil war." Zachary's smile turned to a frown. Did the man not realize that he had prepared for just such a contingency? He may not have had an heir in his direct bloodline, but he had certainly left explicit instructions for who should be the next king should he die before siring a child. He knew as well as anyone the dangers posed by leaving the kingdom without a king.

"I do wonder why he's never married. I mean, he is still young, but given his position, you would think that he would feel the need to marry sooner rather than later."

"I've heard that he has a mistress holed up in Hillander province somewhere."

"I've heard it's not a woman." Zachary suppressed the urge to snort into his food. He had heard both rumors before, but they were both so patently ridiculous that he could do nothing but ignore them.

"I did hear there was a contract he was considering." Zachary's ears perked up, and he leaned back in his chair to hear the man's next words more clearly. "Lord Coutre apparently proposed a marriage contract with his daughter. I hear she's quite lovely."

"Now, that would be a fine match. Maybe that's why he's been waiting." Interesting. Lord Coutre had indeed proposed a marriage contract to Estora shortly before Zachary left for the Wall, but he had not accepted, knowing his heart lay elsewhere. Lord Coutre had seemed quite surprised, and Zachary realized he had probably had quite a lot of interest in the lovely Lady Estora. Zachary, however, had chosen his bride, and nothing would sway him from the choice.

The men's conversation soon switched to less interesting topics, and Zachary ate the rest of his stew quickly. He was hoping to make it to Taros the following morning, so he knew that he needed to leave at first light. His Weapons followed him up the stairs, and Fastion checked the room before stepping back to allow him to enter. It was not the nicest room Zachary had ever stayed in, for he did not want to give away his identity with something too expensive. However, it was clean, and there was a bed. He did not care about much else. Locking the door firmly behind him, he shed the militia uniform he still wore, slipping on a simple linen tunic and cotton trousers before falling deeply asleep.

They reached Taros just before midday the following day. The city was in shambles. A number of buildings were on fire, and others had been razed to the ground. Zachary forced the horror back, his eyes searching for any sign of the combatants. He finally found a trio of Sacordian soldiers at the edge of town, dragging the fallen bodies of their comrades to a large pyre. He halted his horse near them. "Where is Major Ghaskin?" he questioned. The soldiers glanced up at him, hesitant. Finally, one cleared his throat and spoke.

"He was at the town hall last I saw him. But he's a busy man; I doubt he will appreciate disturbances." Zachary simply nodded, moving away. He followed the main road through the town until he reached the town hall, swinging off his horse and tying him to a nearby post. Two Weapons stayed outside while the other two followed him into the low brick building.

"Major Ghaskin," Zachary called, attracting the attention of the three men who stood at the center of the large room he had entered. Ghaskin's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth, likely in rebuke. Zachary let a small smile play on his lips. "I understand that I am a bit haggard-looking from the road but surely you recognize me." The major peered at him more closely before his eyes widened. He gave a hasty bow, and the two men with him followed suit.

"Sire, I had not expected you so soon."

"I was able to leave quicker than I had anticipated, and the roads were good."

"And the young woman who was injured? She will be alright?" The king frowned. He knew he had run the risk of showing his hand too soon, but in his concern for Karigan, he could not bring himself to care.

"She will recover in full. She saved my life, so knowing that comforts me greatly." Zachary heard a murmur from the other two soldiers. He hoped they were the sort to gossip. He needed the story to spread quickly and allay suspicion.

"Of course." Ghaskin turned back to the map spread across the table. "We have secured the town, Sire, and killed most of the invaders. The few that remained alive have been captured for further questioning. I have the men burning all the bodies now per your instructions."

"Good. What were our casualties?"

"Only about a score of soldiers. But the people who lived here. . . did not fare so well. Many of the men were killed, and the women were not treated kindly." Zachary could tell from his tone exactly what he meant by "not treated kindly," and he closed his eyes briefly against the onslaught of emotion.

"What has been done to help the town rebuild?" The major stared at him in confusion.

"Sire?"

"Rebuild, Major Ghaskin. You said yourself that the invaders devastated this town. Simply driving them out is not going to be enough for it to recover." When the major still did not speak, Zachary stepped forward to look at the plans on the table. "One of you, go find the mayor and ask him to come immediately. We have a great deal to discuss."

It seemed the mayor had not survived, but his deputy had. Fortunately, the deputy, though nervous around Zachary, seemed to be a competent man with a genuine desire to help his town recover. Once he grew more comfortable speaking with the king, he even contributed a number of intelligent ideas to the discussion. By the time Zachary dismissed him and the other officers for the night, they had the beginnings of a decent plan for rebuilding.

Since the only inn in town had burned, Zachary decided to join the rest of the families displaced from destroyed homes in the main hall, a large building in the center of town that the mayor explained was typically used for town events and festivals. The major suggested Zachary stay at the military encampment instead, a suggestion the Weapons agreed with, for he would have better protection there. However, Zachary was insistent. He refused to distance himself from his people and their suffering. And it quickly became clear there was a good deal of suffering.

The main hall had never been intended for use as a bunkhouse. The floor was hard stone, and Zachary noted that most of the people sleeping there had nothing between their bodies and the stone except the clothes on their backs. Some had drug in straw or thin blankets to create makeshift beds, but they were few and far between. Zachary felt his own bed roll was exceedingly decadent despite the fact that it was one of the least impressive beds he slept in.

He and his Weapons found an empty spot by one wall, and they all spread their bed rolls there. The townspeople gave them only cursory glances before turning back to their own conversations. A number of other members of the militia were sleeping in the main hall as well in case additional invaders came. Zachary thought the possibility unlikely, but he still agreed with Ghaskin's decision to place his men there. As Zachary lay back on his bed roll, he pulled his notes from the discussion with the mayor from his pack and began to read over them. He caught snatches of some nearby conversation, and the topic caused his attention to wander.

"Doomed, I say. First the magic leaking in and now this invasion. And the king has gone missing. He hasn't been in Sacor City in over two months."

"I suppose all hope is lost." Zachary glanced over to see the speakers were two women a few years older than him. One had a small child sleeping on her shoulder. Both had dark circles under their eyes and far more lines on their faces than their ages would indicate they should. They looked haggard; in fact, everyone in the room looked haggard. A sense of hopelessness and despair seemed to permeate through the air.

Zachary made his decision quickly. He knew the Weapons would not like it, but they had no choice in the matter. The people in the town had suffered enough. If he could give them a bit of hope, perhaps that would be all they needed to recover. At least it was better than nothing. Setting aside his notes, he dug through his pack until he found the crown he had brought with him. Though he generally wore it while at military camps, having found that officers responded better when he did, he had taken it off for travel to retain his anonymity. Now, he no longer wanted that anonymity. "Sire-" Fastion began, obviously sensing his intention. Zachary gave him a sharp look.

"You will not stop me. You know as well as I that these people are no danger to me." The Weapon fell silent, and Zachary slipped the crown onto his head. Standing, he strode purposefully to one end of large room. It did not take long for people to notice him, and a hush fell over the group, broken only by whispered comments. When Zachary reached the end of the room, he glanced around briefly before climbing onto a wooden table that had been pushed against the wall to make room for everyone to sleep. The whispers had grown in volume, and Zachary simply stood for a moment, letting realization spread to everyone in the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully modulated so it would carry without sounding loud, something he had perfected long before.

"Citizens of Taros," he began. As soon as the words left his mouth, all whispering stopped. "I know this has been a trying time for all of you. I know your homes have been destroyed, your lives left in shambles. Many of you have lost friends and family members. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain you all feel." Zachary let his emotion show on his face so that they could see he was truly saddened by the events that had occurred. "Rest assured, we will find those responsible for this travesty and ensure they are not able to orchestrate such destruction again. And while it may seem that all hope is lost right now, we will rebuild this town. I have already been talking with Deputy Mayor Hammerstein about how to do so, but I know we will not be able to do it alone. We will need your ideas and your labor to ensure that the Taros we build will be greater than what it was before. I know it will be difficult, but you have all already shown that you can face great difficulty and still survive, so I do not doubt you will rise to this challenge as well. And I will do everything in my power to ensure you succeed." A cheer spread throughout the crowd at his words. Zachary let the crowd settle a bit before continuing, briefly outlining some of the plans they had already made before promising to hear anyone who had other ideas in the town hall the following day. As he stepped down from the table, he was happy to note that the spirit of those in the room did seem to have risen with his speech. A number of townspeople bowed to him as he passed, and some even dropped to their knees. Zachary waved them all off, having never been one for ceremony. A few of the braver souls approached him, and he listened to them attentively before asking them to rejoin him at the town hall the following day so others could hear their ideas as well. By the time he finally made it back to his bed roll, he was decidedly tired.

Zachary remained in Taros for nine more days. He spent every day at the town hall, listening patiently to the ideas that the townspeople had to rebuild their home. Once a few dared approach him, the rest seemed to grow bolder, queueing up out the door in their eagerness to speak with him. It was tiring, but by the end, they had a workable plan for rebuilding. He left a small contingent of soldiers for protection, giving orders for the rest to return to their base camps in the surrounding area. When the major left with Zachary's orders, the town hall was empty save Zachary and his three Weapons for the first time. Zachary let out a long breath, taking a seat on a nearby bench. He allowed the weariness to show on his face as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. When he opened them again, he saw a new figure in the doorway of the room. His Weapons stepped out of the shadows to stop the man, but Zachary waved them off, motioning the newcomer forward. As the man stepped into the light, recognition hit Zachary, and a smile broke through the weariness. "Quinn? What are you doing here?" Zachary stood, reaching out to grip his cousin's hand in a hearty shake.

"Did you think that I would let you travel so close to Hillander without coming to greet you?"

"I had intended to pass through Hillander after I finished here. I sent a message ahead about the Kmaern, but I wanted to discuss more details."

"Well, now I have saved you a trip. We received your message, and Father is already preparing the land for them. He says that if your sigil had not been on that parchment, he would not have believed the words written there. Both of us always considered the Kmaern to be people of fairy tales."

"Not fairy tales. Merely a forgotten people driven out long ago. Much like the Eletians."

"Yes, there does seem to be a preponderance of races long thought extinct suddenly returning to Sacordia. I know it is something that has worried others, but that is not why I sought you out."

"I see. How did you know where to find me?"

Quinn laughed. "You are the king of Sacordia. People take notice of your location, especially when you announce it in such a memorable fashion. I believe travelers will be talking of how you saved Taros for months to come."

"They saved themselves. I merely facilitated."

"A humble king. It still surprises me." Quinn chuckled again, but after a few seconds, the smile slipped from his face. "I suppose you are wondering why I am here." Zachary nodded for him to continue, and Quinn stepped aside. It took a moment for Zachary's gaze to drop, landing on the small boy that had been previously hidden by Quinn's body. The boy stood just higher than Zachary's knees and looked to be no older than five. He had amber hair, similar to both Quinn's and Zachary's, and his eyes were the familiar almond ones that marked the Hillander clan. Zachary guessed what Quinn's next words would be before he spoke. "This is my son, Xavier."

Zachary nodded, gathering his thoughts. "I am sure you are both hungry from the road. I will have someone bring us a late supper, and perhaps then we can talk."

Twenty minutes later, they sat around one of the small circular tables in the town hall, three bowls of stew and half of a warm, crusty loaf of bread in front of them. The boy—Xavier—still had not spoken, but he ate his stew eagerly, dripping some of it onto the table. Quinn watched him for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I suppose I owe you an explanation."

"You do not owe me anything, but I will admit my curiosity."

"You know as well as I that things have always been. . . tense between Haden and me. We married because our parents wished us to do so, but I have always thought we were much too young for such a commitment. I see the wisdom of your bachelorhood now though I teased you for it before."

"Perhaps you were right to tease," Zachary said, thinking of the comments he had heard in the inn. "But I took no offense at the time and still do not."

"Anyway, we have had our good times and our bad. One of the worst was about five years ago. The menders had told us that we would likely never have children, and we lashed out at one another. I left for a time, and while I was gone, I met a woman. Xavier's mother." Zachary nodded, encouraging him to continue. "She was different than any of the women I had ever courted—less refined, uncomfortable in fancy clothes or surroundings. I relished that. Alas, I took things too far. We spent three months together, but I did not know she was pregnant when I left or I likely would have taken a different action. As it was, I returned to my home and began to try and work through my difficulties with Haden."

"How did you find out?" Zachary asked.

"She found me. We had talked about who I was, my position, for I did not want to lie to her, so I suppose it was easy enough. She told me that she was struggling to find work where she was and wished to travel east where she thought would do well as a seamstress. But travel is difficult with a child, and many in those areas are quite traditional. They would not take kindly to an unmarried mother."

"She gave up her child?"

"I think she felt that Xavier would have better opportunities, a better life with me." Quinn glanced at his son who had finished the stew and was steadily working his way through a hunk of bread, crumbs dusting his travelling cloak. "I could not deny the truth of that. And I have no doubt he is my son, so I certainly could not refuse him. Fortunately, Haden has been away on a trip to see her family, but she is due to return in three weeks' time. I have been trying to come up with a solution, but I think in this case honesty is my only option. However, I believe that the news may be more palatable if I can break it gently and slowly." He cast a significant glance at Xavier.

"I suppose that would be difficult with proof of your indiscretion standing in front of her," Zachary guessed. Quinn sighed.

"You have to understand, Zachary, if I could think of anywhere else to go, I would. Aeryc knows you have enough problems of your own. But I could not think of where else to turn. I know he needs to be away from Hillander if I am to have a chance to break the news to Haden without her learning of his presence first. There are few that I would trust with this, and none of them as much as you."

Zachary glanced at the boy, noting that he closely resembled what Zachary himself had looked like as a child. A wry smile formed on Zachary's lips at the thought. "I cannot even begin to imagine the court rumors that will start when they see him with me."

"I will be no more than two months behind, and I will admit my indiscretion then. That should stop any unsightly rumors. I just need a chance to tell Haden first." Zachary considered for a few moments. He had been working hard to build goodwill with the nobles, and he suspected a rumored bastard heir would destroy most of it. However, if the nobles later learned that they had judged him harshly and wrongly, perhaps they would be inclined to appease him in other matters. Despite how long he had been in politics, he still found the behaviors of the court difficult to predict.

In the end, however, the fact of the matter was that Xavier was an innocent child and kin no less. Zachary would do whatever he needed to do in order to protect the boy, no matter the result. "I will take him with me," he agreed. "That is, as long as he is amenable to the idea." Zachary turned to Xavier, smiling broadly at the small boy. "What do you say, Little One? Would you like to ride with me to Sacor City and see the castle?"

The boy's gaze flitted between the two men before he finally spoke a single word. "Horse?"

Zachary laughed, the sound echoing in the empty room. "Yes, my boy, we will be riding a horse. I'm sure he will not begrudge me your additional weight." That seemed to satisfy Xavier who nodded, shoving two fingers in his mouth as he continued to stare at the king. Zachary noted that his eyelids had already started to droop, and he imagined it would not be long before Xavier succumbed to sleep. "Come on," Zachary said. "I shall show you to the main hall where many have been staying."

"Thank you, Zachary. This means more than you could know. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask."