Ambition, Chapter 1; The Gambit

Seaward, Domain of Mieres, vassalage of His Grace Emperor Kendar Kalien the I,

Sarimier 1585 HC, some time after the celebration  of the Day of Rebirth

"This is an absolute outrage," spoke the head member of Vaumel's Aerele Shipping. "He can't treat us this way...without us Anuire is nothing. What exactly happened over tHise, Your Grace?" His voice boomed throughout the grand chamber of Seaward's royal palace. 

"Well kind sir," the Duke replied, "As I previously stated, Emperor Kalien of Anuire has placed an embargo upon our cities. He won't allow any trade. I warned you before that he would present nothing but deliberate mischief after his coronation."

After having recently returned to Daene Vaumel with news of the Emperor’s official decree, the Duke assembled all of Vaumel's significant merchants to deliberate appropriate courses of action. They sat patiently around a long rectangular table and listened attentively, for their livelihoods -and that of their domain and trade- depended greatly on what was accomplished Hise and now. The Duke, flanked on both sides by his two henchmen, continued his report in his typical pompous demeanor. To the entrepreneurs of Aerele Shipping, his words came across like those of a prophet of doom. To them, nothing could bear more truth than his speech.

"The Emperor has deliberately sabotaged our economy, our way of life, and he has marred our heritage and culture with this embargo. He must be made to see the error of his ways, through force of arms if necessary." With this suggestion a light murmur could be heard throughout the chamber. The dozen or so members all turned inwards to their neighbors with surprised looks on their faces. "Furthermore," The Duke continued, "I have come to a most terrible and horrific realization. Emperor Kalien is in league with dark sorceress! He has somehow managed to harvest the powers of snow and ice, and has wrecked a terrible carnage upon His own lands. Summer turns to Winter, and many people cry out against his evil ways. His disposition is not only warranted by the facts brought before you today, but by the morals in which we pride ourselves."

As the side conversations between various guild members grew louder, one spoke out with reference to the Duke's proposal and made himself heard. "It's impossible," he said. "We have no ships apart from our trade vessels, and we have no military apart from our local guard and police force. Not to mention that if Emperor Kalien is in possession of magic powers as you claim, we won't stand a chance."

At this the members of the Aerele Shipping all voiced their opinions. The Duke silently wondered how so few voices could sound like so many. One member remarked, "His powers matter not. The people of Anuire will rise against him."

"His powers are everything. We couldn't possibly win," spoke another.

"This must be a war! we can win!"

"No, we most certainly cannot!"

The small assembly grew louder and more rambunctious. Insults and accusations of cowardice could be heard among the rabble until eventually the guild leader has had enough.

"SILENCE!"

The head member slammed his fist onto the table as he yelled. The magnitude of force caused a wine glass to topple onto the floor, but no one dared move a muscle to retrieve it. All were silent, just as the head member demanded.

"This is preposterous," he exclaimed. "We'll have recess to collect our thoughts, and then return on the morrow for further deliberation. A decision of this importance cannot be made hastily."

The guild members remained silent while nodding their agreement. One by one they rose from their chairs and made their way to the exit. The Duke made an effort to be the last departure. Accompanied by his two ever-faithful servants, he made his way through the corridor of Seaward’s palace and out to the courtyard which led to the bustling city street.

The Duke expressed his inner thoughts, "Look at all these fine people of our glorious city. Soon they will have nothing to buy, and soon the merchants will have nothing to sell. We'll starve at the hands of that so called Emperor in Anuire...unless...yes, of course!" He stopped walking and put his index finger to his chin. Those walking behind him now found difficulty in maneuvering around. Many expressed anger towards the arrogant duke, only to mute their sentiments at the sight of his two intimidating henchmen.

"I know what I must do," said the Duke. He turned towards his men. "Go the local brothel, and there you will find the mercenary pirate captain. Have him come to my manor tonight at midnight. It will be well worth his while."

The henchmen obediently nodded their heads in unison and walked briskly towards the nearest side alley. The Duke quickly returned to his personal residence. So much to do, so much to do, he thought. I must get to work immediately.

Later that night the Duke found himself hard at work at his desk. His home reflected the luxurious lifestyle of a duke. Portraits hanging on the professionally decorated walls, glass chandeliers in the larger atrium-type rooms. Silk curtains and antique furniture made up the interior decor. Despite his privileged life, the Duke had little time to marvel at such things. For the moment his mind was doing what it did best: contriving schemes. His hand frantically worked a quill pen across multiple sheets of paper. Through his scribbling, he could hardly make out the distant bell tower signaling the arrival of midnight. The Duke heard a loud knock on his front door and rose to answer it. Typically he would have a doorman for such mundane tasks, but tonight the Duke could take no chances; what occurred that night must remain an absolute secret. Upon opening the double doors to his home, the Duke gazed at three hooded figures, all three of which he recognized. This were his henchmen, competent as always, and the mercenary pirate captain, whose loyalty always went to the highest bidder.

"Come in, come in," said the Duke as he motioned the cloaked men inside. "Were you followed?"

Both henchmen spoke in unison again. "No, Your Grace." The four men made their way into the living quarters. The Duke began his descent into a large and expensive chair when the mercenary sat first. Both henchmen remained standing. "By Eloele, have you no manners?" The Duke chided the mercenary as would a teacher to a misbehaving schoolboy. "I am the Duke of Mieres, and am always first to sit. Rise to your feet at once." The mercenary captain expressed a look of disbelief. Any stranger who spoke to him in such ways would have spoken his last, but the mercenary knew his paycheck depended upon this arrogant fool. Containing his suppressed anger, he rose to his feet. The Duke sat down speaking as he did so, "Now you may all resume your seats." The Duke knew this meeting would alter the course of history, not only that of Mieres, but

that of himself. He breathed deeply and began to speak directly to the mercenary.

"I need every man you have, along with every ship you have. I can accommodate the necessary supplies and wages. I need them ready to depart the day after tomorrow."

The mercenary pirate replied, "Your Grace, that's quite a request..." he paused. "and just what do I get in return?" A half smile appeared on the duke's wrinkled face. "All the riches in the Southern Land and Isles."

The next day the Aerele Shipping members reconvened to finalize their intentions for their alliance with Anuire, the Duke of course being the last to be seated.

As usual, all the members were speaking at once, with no sign of civilized order present. These half-wit peons, the Duke thought, They have no decency. The head member smashed his fist into the table for lack of a proper hammer.  "I call this meeting to order," he said. "The honorable Duke of Vaumel will now give his final testimony on the matter of declaring war on Anuire."

The Duke leapt to his feet. "Thank you, old chap." He spoke with a condescending tone. "I've

given this grave matter much thought yester night, and have concluded that war with Anuire at this time is not only most impossible, but most undesirable."

Every member of the guild rose shouting their opinions, chairs falling backwards in the process. Proponents of peace applauded what they presumed to be the Duke's revelation, while proponents of war accused him and all others who disagreed as being cowardly. Food even flew into the face of one of the more outspoken members.

The head member seemed lost in insanity. "ENOUGH I SAY!" In a blind fit of rage the council head grasped the rather large table with both hands underneath and tossed it into the air. It crashed loudly onto the floor with all its contents rolling and bouncing in every direction. The perplexed guild members stared at their head member in disbelief. Feeling as though he had somewhat regained control of the situation, the head member spoke to the Duke who up until that moment had been standing some distance away with his hands clasp behind his back silently collecting his thoughts. He seemed not to have noticed the outburst.

"But Your Grace," spoke the head member to the Duke, "just yesterday you were the most enthusiastic of war. And yet now you want to maintain our alliance. How can one have such a reversal overnight?"

The Duke replied, "I've come to realize that even if Anuire has a sly impostor on its throne, and even if he has enacted a most dishonorable trade restriction upon our great city, going to war would be an atrocity to our people. We would be no better than Emperor Kalien."

The head guild member stood still with a puzzled look on his face; he never knew the Duke for being an advocate of morality. The Duke turned and exited the chamber without waiting for the head guild member's reply or the opinion of his companions. He had said all that was needed. He was the Duke, ruler of Mieres. If he wanted war, there would be war. If he wanted peace, there would be peace. Anuire would come later, he thought. For now, all that remained was to return home and prepare for tomorrow's voyage.

The next day invited a new sense of purpose into the Duke's mind. He awoke early, and instructed his servants to pack his personal baggage. Just a few weeks ago he was being tossed like a bail of hay onto a Mieran-bound ship after being dishonored at the hands of Emperor Kalien, and now he would be embarking to the Isles to avenge his recent mortification. The Guild, or anyone from Mieres for that matter, knew nothing of his plot. Not even his two henchmen were fully aware of the scale of his plans. After his servants packed and loaded his baggage onto a stagecoach, the Duke boarded, and ordered the driver forward. The Duke rode in silent, much to the satisfaction of his driver who usually had to listen to consistent rants on such journeys. Onward the coach went from the Duke's manor, through metropolitan Seaward, and finally arrived at its final destination: the docks. There the mercenary pirate captain had gathered his flotilla of ships and his rag-tag band of followers. Upon arrival, the Duke barked orders at his servants.

"Begin loading at once!" He shouted. As his servants loaded his baggage onto the flagship of the mercenary pirate captain's fleet, the Duke walked to where his henchmen and the captain had gathered immediately interrupting their conversation. "Shall we depart then?"

The mercenary pirate captain said nothing, but by the expression on his face one could assume that whatever words he might have spoken would have been sarcastic. The Duke boarded the captain's ship, followed by the Duke's two henchmen, and finally the captain. Once the Duke's exaggerated amount of personal baggage was loaded, the flotilla set sail. The sun had been in the sky for sometime before the final ships of the fleet left the harbor. The captain stood on the bridge of his ship, admiring the collection of ships and men he assembled. "A fine day to sail," he said. "The wind is at our backs, and the Southern Isles host hospitable waters. We should be there in a few days."

"Excellent, just excellent," the Duke responded. "I shall retire for the day in your quarters, captain. Send one of my men to wake me should any pressing matters present themselves."

The captain glared viciously at the Duke's back as he made his way into the bowels of the ship, leaving behind his two henchmen to accompany the captain. The captain knew that 'for the day' meant for the remainder of the voyage. To the captain at least, the Duke being inside meant he would be absent from the bridge...an arrangement the captain could be content with. He still knew very little of the origin or objective of this voyage, but one thing he did know is that the Duke pays well. The captain steered his ship in the direction of the Southern Isles, and made for open water.