Around him, his soldiers stood in careful ranks, nestled at the heart of a fleet of galleys and cogs, the flagship large and broad sailed, dark wood painted with red shapes that might have been intended to signify the blood of his foes or the fire of a world torn down. Hed had it built, as hed had all the rest of it built.

How long until the island will come into sight? Ravin demanded of the closest sailor.

The man fell to his knees, head bowed. An hour or less, Majesty.

It was a wonder to Ravin that his men could chart these things so precisely. Not because the skills seemed impossible, but because his men had learned them so quickly and so well. He had built a body of sailors willing to go beyond the sight of land, just as he had built all the rest of it.

He had planned for this, planned for all of it, almost since the moment when he had taken the throne.

He could still hear the whisper of his fathers last breath, caught in surprise, a dagger plunging into him that was so thin it barely left a mark. Another dozen daggers had risen and fallen that night, killing the others his father had sired, and their mothers, and those who might support them.

Ravin turned to the sailor. Do you know what the most powerful weapon for a king is?

The man looked shocked that his king would ask such a question. No, Majesty.

It is the ability to plan more than his enemies, to know more than them, to set things in motion knowing how they will turn out.

The sailor stared, but then, such men probably had little experience talking to their betters. King Ravin didnt mind; it was still better than talking to the courtiers who prattled round him, promising this or that, flattering and scheming.

I have been planning this since… well, since before I became king, Ravin said. Becoming king was only a part of it, and that took enough planning. It is not enough to kill those who stand in your way, of course. One must arrange things to have control afterwards, forge alliances, or at least the appearance of alliances.

Ravin drew the man to his feet. He looked up into the tangle of lines and sails above. Men clambered among it, swaying with the rest of the ship as it rolled from side to side. Consider the… rigging, I believe it is called?

Yes, Majesty? the man said.

Such a complex web of ropes, each with a purpose, each moving in a specific way. If they tangle wrong, the progress of the ship is impeded. Disaster might follow.

Yes, Majesty, the sailor agreed, although Ravin could see that he didnt understand the point.