It was a warm evening, and the winds of destiny blew fiercely around the world. Today those winds blew east, pushing the prow of the ship onwards to its fate. The bustle of activity belied the calmness of the voyage, and the carefulness of the plans laid. Yes, today would be a historic day, and even the waves knew it.

Iwan drew in a deep breath, savoring the fresh salty scent, and blew it out slowly as he tried to contain his enthusiasm. He would, however, continue to let the smile on his face shine brightly for the whole crew to see. Iwan was a strict ruler, harsh almost to the point of cruel, and he knew it; he let his reputation work for him to bring obedience to his subjects. Most obeyed because of his great aspirations for his dying country, but the few that didn’t would certainly be brought in line by the weight of fear.

Seagulls called from above, and the shouts from the helmsman indicated that he was preparing his men to bring them into port. Sailors bustled about the deck, heaving large ropes around and careful slacking of the main sail. The captain called for steady adjustments and aimed the ship two degrees to port. Such efficiency, such organized chaos, such anticipation; this what Iwan strived to achieve, and he would see it through.

The captain was a rough man, tall and covered in scars; he spoke with the kind of authority that had to be earned and maintained, but he had won that many years and leagues ago. “We should be landing by sunset, Your Majesty; right on schedule.” The burly man spoke in a low bass and a thick sailor’s accent. Iwan turned to meet his eyes, green as the ocean and as fierce as a hurricane; the look every proud sailor could only dream to have. Iwan acknowledged him with little more than a curt nod, and the captain went back to barking orders at his men.

Only a few hours now stood between Iwan and his greatest plans fruition, and he savored every moment of it. But he knew he could not stay here relishing in his soon to be victory; now was the time to set the plan and address his men. He strolled across the helm, careful of the overhanging boom, and made his way to his steward who was hunched over the side of the rail, much the same way he had been since they started their journey.

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“Tellum!” Iwan shouted over the wind. The steward lifted his head in a jolt, spinning to face the young king. As near as Iwan could tell, Tellum was a fine enough steward; taxes were always collected in a peaceful manner, the kingdom affairs were swiftly handled, and the nobility were always appeased. But when it came to the sea, the man was next to useless.

“Yes! Your Highness!” He straightened his clothes, a thick cotton shirt and a leather jerkin which was a stark contrast compared to the fine silks that he normally wore. “How may I serve you?” He said with his chin slightly raised and his body now perfectly straight.

“Assemble the troops below deck. It’s time to give them their orders. See to it that General Zeke assigns platoons of 10 men with only a single captain. I want our forces organized, but mobile. Once we reach the docks, we will have to move swiftly to reach the palace walls before they are closed and fortified.”

“Right away, Your Highness.” And with that, the stately man scuttled off, carefully making his way down to the lower decks. He crossed paths with a large man in full armor that had just emerged onto the upper deck. A large bird sat nestled on his shoulder, red as flame, and he carefully removed a small slip of paper from the bird’s leg. It took him only a moment to read the slip before he turned and marched up to Iwan. “Sir!” He barked in a manner very befitting a military man. “The spies are in position and ready for your signal.”

Iwan squared up with the soldier. He was close to two heads taller than Iwan, and very sturdy; his muscles were bulged and taught in a salute with his right arm brought to his left shoulder in a fist. One might think that his open coat was because of the hot air, but Iwan had never known Gaull to ever button his coat.

“Very good.” Iwan said, putting the soldier at ease. “Send out the order when the captain orders the sails drawn, but before we drop anchor.”

Gaull nodded, saluted again, and was off without another word.

Castle Sirene could already be seen in the distance and the docks were finally coming into view. Iwan grabbed the hilt of his sword and squeezed, more so out of habit than any worry. His wry smile found its way back onto his face, always proud of a plan well executed. He spared one last glance on the glittering castle. He laughed to himself and thought Happy birthday, Princess. I give you the greatest gift I have; the gift of war. And with that he strode confidently across the deck and disappeared down the steps.