As Andelbert and I turned toward the docks, my mind wandered back to a year earlier when I first arrived at my newly acquired estate. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Large trees in orderly rows lined the road leading to the manor, providing shade for the entire length of the ride.

The house itself was a large stone country house with two floors of rooms, each lined with rows of windows. The stonework was white with a hint of gold. It was the best stonework I had ever seen. The roof was black slate, and four towers jutted out from the corners of the house. A large staircase with stairs running up both sides led to the entrance.

The grounds were equally impressive with a pool in front of the house and beautiful gardens in every direction. A staff of groundskeepers attended the property with great care. The estate sat on the crest of a hill overlooking the village of Kapri below.

Kapri, a small cluster of homes and shops surrounding a courtyard where people set up a market on Saturdays, is situated on a half-moon of land that juts out into Lake Kapristratt. Which, in turn, empties into a canal that works its way out to sea. In the wintertime, the entire village comes out to skate on the canal and enjoy each other’s company. It is quite charming.

I am confident once I have had a few more life experiences, I will be content to settle into a regular routine as a Baron in this fine village. But for now, I must remain faithful to my plan. So with a mix of determination, excitement, and apprehension, Andelbert and I made our way down to the docks.

Upon our arrival at the docks, Goatbeard’s man Snoffduffle was there waiting for us. I had no doubt he would be. What Goatbeard says he will do, he does. His word carries great weight.

Snoffduffle briskly stated, “Good day, Baron Blastfurnace. All is prepared for your journey. Please follow me, and we will begin.”

With those few words, Andelbert and I were ushered onboard Goatbeard’s personal barge. The barge took us across Lake Kapristratt and down the canal on our way to one of the Grand Duke’s cargo vessels, loaded and waiting in the harbor.

I have always loved ships. Their beauty and the freedom they represent is hard to resist. The world is connected by water, so they say. And a man with a ship can venture anywhere he has the nerve to attempt. I only hoped my nerve would hold long enough to reach France.

Soon we reached the harbor, and excitement grew in my heart as Goatbeard’s ship grew closer. It was named Sea Merchant II. Goatbeard is a businessman, not a poet. The functional name bestowed upon her in no way reflected the beauty of the fluyt on which we would be traveling.

Her graceful curves and towering masts were a sight to behold, and the smell of canvas and rope was intoxicating. She was a merchant vessel, designed for minimal armaments and crew. Still, she was as beautiful to me as any galleon I had seen.

Once on board, I was introduced to Captain Desmet. A tall man with a strong, weather-beaten face. The kind you would expect of a sea captain. The Captain had little time for pleasantries. He fulfilled his welcoming duty quickly and got back to the business of setting sail.

Snoffduffle showed us to a cabin and told us it would be ours for the journey. He then wished us good sailing, briefly consulted with the Captain on some matter of importance, no doubt, and quickly left the ship.

Then it sunk in. Andelbert and I were leaving all we had ever known behind. I had no plan, and I couldn’t fathom what we would do once we reached France.