Astoria

t h i r t y - e i g h t

The night was dark, the moon a mere crescent hanging suspended in the sky. The stars were out, constellations showing vividly in the sky, constellations such as Estelle or the dagger and many others that Nathan knew, their names stored away in his mind from years of using them to navigate by. He stood on the hill that overlooked the town of Hampshire .

He had crossed from their island to the mainland because he had felt that, after years of keeping himself on the island, it was time to set foot once more on the land that he had been born on, the land he had grown up on.

He smirked evily down on the sleeping city of Hampshire and, in the distance, the small town of Dunkirk.

The king has spent the majority of his life growing up right in this area. An attack here will most certainly draw his attention more than any other.

He frowned at the sound of huffing and puffing that suddenly arose behind him. Turning, he saw Sawyer mount the hill with ease, while Spad brought up the rear. It soon became evident to Nathan that Spad was the cause of the heavy breathing. He managed to hide his disgust. The promise of an imminent attack was enough to dull his irritation somewhat.

"Look at it...everyone sleeping," hissed Sawyer. "So... peaceful!" He laughed evilly.

Nathan smirked. "It is time to begin making ourselves well-known."

"Shall we take prisoners?"

"I think that we shall, tonight...Our spy in the palace has given us the information we need to make the captures that will most benefit us. Our goal is to get the king's attention. Jurmala was play; this is real."

"Of course," said Sawyer, grinning.

"You know where all of this leads, don't you?"

"Enlighten me again, boss."

Nathan frowned irritably. "What do you think the king will do when we become enough of a threat?"

"He'll look to the mercenaries of the royal army, of course," said Sawyer.

"Yes. I shall allow them to take me in. They will be a laughing stock when I escape from the palace prison, the eve before the execution they'll surely plan for me."

"Of course, sir," said Sawyer. "They'll be humiliated. But it seems rather pointless to allow yourself to be captured."

"I have my reasons," said Nathan, nodding. "For tonight, however...let's only focus on our goal. Two prisoners. No others. You know exactly what to do. Anyone who gets in the way is dead."

"But sir..." said Spad, suddenly piping up from the background.

Nathan closed his eyes in irritation, before turning to the man.

"What is it?" he snapped.

"I...understand how capturing the man will gain the attention of the general...but how will capturing the boy gain King Antony's attention? He does not even know the urchin!"

Nathan smirked once more, allowing himself to compliment, mentally, on the brilliancy of his plan. "Trust me, Spad," he said, simply. "If we can count on the word of our palace spy, we'll gain his attention well enough. If we can't...our palace spy is dead."

Spad nodded, before sinking back into the background, as usual.

Sawyer turned to Nathan. "Now?" he hissed, impatiently.

Nathan simply nodded. Spad dutifully lit the end of the arrow and Sawyer shot the flaming beacon high above the heads of the men gathered beneath the hill. The men sprang into action.