Ambition, Chapter 2; The Law of Scoundrels

Isle of Caelcorwynn, 1585 HC Sarimier

Jarod sat before his brother, “King of the Southern Isles”, bound in chains and charged with high treason against his fellow people, fellow pirates. Crimes against those people are no light matter, and Jarod reflected inwardly about how his well-calculated plans went horribly awry. The pirate seat of power was built upon a cliff overlooking the recollection of houses, and hulls of ships on beach front, the keep boasted large stone rooms, and impressive stone statues that dotted the interior, all from some distant era, now served as the perfect base of operation for the scoundrels that pillaged the Straits of Aerele.

For his enquiry, Jarod found himself in the central throne room, accustomed with a large stain-glassed window behind the throne which was unfortunately broken but still maintained the awe it once produced, and an overhead wooden balcony from which members of the court anxiously looked on. Jarod could not make out any figures he recognized, but he knew he had to have had several brothers in the audience. Brothers had always been a problem of his, he thought as the one eyed clerk announced that the trial would soon commence. After all, jealousy of his eldest brother and malice towards the others are the reasons for his current troubles. As he continued recollecting the events of the past few days, mainly having failed to secure the flagship of his brother, the King of the Pirates shattered his train of thought with a direct question.

"What do you have to say for yourself, brother? Have you any idea about the shame you have wrought upon our family? Not to mention the calamity you could have caused with this actions of yours. Conspiring against your brothers and sisters, attempted murder, how ironic, inciting mutiny...need I continue?"

"No," replied Jarod. "My only regret is that my plans have failed. So let's get on with this and stop wasting our time."

The Pirate King sat quietly for a moment. Colleagues have been put to death for less severe crimes than those committed by Jarod; yet Jarod is family. The King looked up at the scumbags in the balcony, among them family, friends, enemies, and notable figures from all corners of the Southern Coast. What would they think of me should I release my brother? What would they think of me should I have him executed? These questions roamed his mind and greatly disturbed his emotions. Jarod must be punished, he concluded, but mercy should be shown. He stood and announced loudly so all could hear, "Jarod, I hereby sentence you to exile. Be gone at once from my sight. Never again will you return to the Isles."

Jarod remained silent while standing to his feet. As he did so a number of scoundrels came forth to escort him out. The rest above broke their silence however, and began chatting among themselves. The King seemed not to be able to make out any clear responses with regards to the sentencing. Although he knew that his place amongst them allowed him executive authority, and that he could enact any command he wished, he also had enough streetwise to be aware of the fact that his other brothers all exerted significant influence throughout the isles. Some of his brothers even encouraged certain entrepreneurs to be outright disloyal to the King, but the King was powerless to curb them. An act against them would entice the others to rebel, and his power would be in jeopardy. The King left the room before it was entirely vacant. He needed to return to his quarters at once to reflect upon the day's events.

He knew Jarod would not be the only brother involved with some power-grasping conspiracy. At least in Jarod' case, the conspiracy took place elsewhere. The King realized his 'kingdom' characterized a loose confederacy more so than it did an actual kingdom. While considering the faults in his rulership, and the banishment of his own brother, a troubled look appeared on his face, something his bed-maid took notice off.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." He retorted.

She pressed on, "I know how difficult it must have been to banish your own brother, but you did what you had to do."

The King found little comfort in her presumptions regarding his inner thoughts.

She continued having her say, "It's for the good of the rest of the scoundrels that come under your power. You must be very confused right now, but that doesn't mean you have to injure yourself over this. Jarod was a troubled man, and no one could have helped him satisfy his ambitious nature. Why, I remember once when I was a young girl, I had a friend like Jarod. He always undermined everyone in such a way that reminds me of how Jarod would always undermine your authority. Eventually he grew up and..."

How can I be spared of this constant state of torture. She always goes on and on with her meaningless stories...

"Beqit, come in at once!" the King shouted. He rarely called upon servants, preferring instead to handle his own needs and wants, but this time did so just to silence his bed-maid. She at having been interrupted and apparently taking notice of his motive, turned frustratingly aside and moved to the other side of the room to resume her window gazing. Just then, a servant stationed in the hallway appeared at the door. "I require some rum." He said. The servant replied with a nod and made for the kitchen although he stopped him before he could exit the room. "And see to it that there is double ration of it. Rum is the best thing I can recall since the days I was…”

The King, realizing he had been mostly talking to himself, dismissed the servant with a wave of the hand; however, he continued expressing his thoughts. And for the wise King, his thoughts often coincided with nonnegotiable facts of reality.

"Yes, Emperor Kalien may have streetwise, but he proves to have no true mind for business. A trade embargo of Mieres could not be more foolish. What does he expect to do,

punish all of Mieres for some personal grievance against one man? Ha! So juvenile is he...there will be recession in both Mieres and in all of the Southern coast, meanwhile we will be able to plunder goods while he will need us to patrol the waters of the southern seas!"

The Archduke, having felt satisfied with his correct assessment of current events and their ensuing consequences accelerated the speed of his rocking chair. Curious, the King slowed his rocking chair while simultaneously glancing in the bed maiden’s direction. She stared out of the window, just as when he entered the room, but with a focus and determination rarely seen in a small-minded individual. He became intrigued at whatever could be keeping her silent for this long. He stood from his chair and walked over to her. Standing beside her, he stared through the window at a disturbing scene below on the beach.

There stood Jarod, being freed from his chains by some buccaneers, and being ushered into a small rowboat whence he would sail into the wild blue yonder, never to return.

*Jarod was first mentioned in the short story counter-attack