The deck of the same ship, 4 days later, off the Macedonian coast.
Waves crashed over the side of the boat onto the deck, knocking many of the sailors that were trying to rescue the boat straight off their feet. Yells went up from one corner of the boat as a particularily vicious wave smashed a lesser mast clean off and into the raging seas. The torrential rain, so ferocious that it stung the skin of those still braving the elements upon deck.
Visible in the distance were the other ships in the Castillian fleet, whom had ridden the storm, and, apparently failed to see the trouble that General della Rioja's ship was having in the extreme conditions.
Below deck.
General della Rioja hadn't slept since the storm began, and it was beginning to show. His face, pale from his sea-sickness already, became more paled and wrinkled as the days went by, and the dark bags under his eyes were the only semblance of colour left. He lay on his bed, the only proper bed on the ship, with his eyes wide open, unable to sleep, despite being exhausted. The boat rocked violently again as another wave hit the side, but the General was beyond the ability to be sick.
There was a knock on the cabin door.
"Enter," the General said weakly, and the door creaked open. The man walked down the steps and laid a damp cloth on the ailing soldier's brow. The man was Major Roger Gonzalez. He kneeled beside the General and took a wooden bowl from the bedside table, though it's contents had been mostly spilled by the storm, and placed it to della Rioja's lips. Rioja's eyes widened as the water passed into his mouth and down his throat, as if the liquid rejuvenated him. When Gonzalez removed the bowl again, the General's eyes slowly, very slowly, closed and he passed into a dreamless sleep. Little did he or anyone else know that he would not wake up for a long while."
